#my next work is done! second chapter tomorrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holybibly · 4 months

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IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide.

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling.

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before.

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside.

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds.

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left. "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom.

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you.

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome."

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

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azurefanfics · 2 months

Text

Incoming call from Lover Boy <3

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: A late night call from your lover Wonwoo after successfully wrapping up his second Tokyo concert.

Note: To celebrate Nana Tour coming to an end I decided to FINALLY write the fic idea I’ve had since episode 1. Please forgive my rusting writing skills - it’s the first fic I’ve actually written in years!

“Incoming call from Lover Boy <3��

The familiar nickname flashed up on your screen, causing you to pause in your reading, smiling slightly at the phone. It was just a joke at first - changing your boyfriend’s nickname in your phone to see how he would react, but the sheepish pink blush that painted his cheeks whenever he caught a glimpse of it drove you to keep it that way ever since.

Your phone continued to buzz angrily, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What’s up?” you questioned, picking up the phone right away. It wasn’t unusual for Wonwoo to call you when he was away, but you knew he’d just wrapped up a concert that night and usually he’d prefer to either celebrate with the boys or just sleep, especially this late.

“Sorry baby, were you asleep?” a familiar face came into view, picking up on the slightly sleepy tone of your voice and voicing out his concerns.

“No, I was just finishing up this chapter, don’t worry. Is everything ok? What happened to drinking with the guys?” you asked, turning your camera on in turn.

“I had a drink already, but I thought I’d turn in early or else I’d be up all night with those idiots. We do fly out at 6 am after all.” The rosy flush that dusted over his features revealed the truth in his statement, as he shook his head fondly at the questionable sleeping habits of his members. “Besides I couldn’t miss out on speaking with you, it’s the highlight of my day.”

This made you smile a little to yourself. Although you’ve never doubted your boyfriend’s love for you, it still felt good to hear that your presence lights up his day in the same way his does to yours.

As you continued chatting about anything and everything - mostly the boys’ antics during the concert - Wonwoo began to remove the remnants of his stage makeup and get ready for bed. You did the same, basking in the moment of shared domesticity despite the ocean between you both. Despite all of the moments you’ve shared together, perhaps watching him sleepily rub his eyes with makeup remover is the most romantic of them all.

Before long, Wonwoo was done cleaning his face and headed back into the hotel bedroom as the two of you chatted. The lights went out with a click and you heard faint shuffling noises as Wonwoo struggled with his clothes. Eventually, he turned on the bedside lamp to reveal himself lying down, shirtless with his glasses on and his head on the pillow.

“You should take your glasses off hun, that’s got to be uncomfortable”, you chastised him, “and that can’t be good for the frames either”.

“No, I want to see you properly”, came the petulant response, “I won’t be able to actually hold you until tomorrow so this is the best I can get”.

“I can’t wait until you’re home.” you sighed. Although it had only been a few days, the pandemic and the fact that you were able to go with them on the last tour meant that times where you’d been away from Wonwoo were few and far between. Although the two of you had been very lucky in that regard, it did make time apart more of a struggle.

“Me neither, it’s not the same sleeping in these hotel rooms without you…”, he sighed. “I’ll be home tomorrow though! Do you have any plans? I know you’re working but maybe we could have a night in? We can watch a movie and order food? Oh! We should try out that new pizza place near ours, you know, the one Mingyu was talking about?”

“Oh yes! He made it sound so good - I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while! We should get extra and then we can have some leftovers for breakfast the next day!”

“…Babe… What are you talking about…. Pizza isn’t breakfast, you monster.” he deadpanned. At this, your cheeks puffed out a little in frustration.

“Breakfast can be whatever you want it to be! You can’t convince me that you had a healthy breakfast every day when you were living with Mingyu!”

As you continued to bicker back and forth about the validity of various breakfast(?) foods, you took a second to admire your breathtaking boyfriend. Even with his face smooshed into the pillow and his glasses askew, his handsome features and plush lips pulled into a subtle smile never failed to make you swoon.

Eventually the conversation turned to your days, catching up on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Although yours was quite uneventful - “just my manager being an idiot, as always” - Wonwoo was full of stories of shopping with the boys earlier that day.

“And then Hoshi just ran away with Coups’ crutches! He was just sat there on the floor pouting!”

As you giggled at his latest story, Wonwoo couldn’t help but join in as well. Your laughter never failed to give him the deepest joy - he would share stories until his throat ran dry, just to see you smile. He’d even endure the endless teasing from his members to buy magazines with his own face on to bring back to you. He didn’t understand why you needed them when you had the real thing - “They’re good to make collages out of, ok? Don’t judge me!” - but he’d dutifully bring them home to you to catch a glimpse of that bashful blush and shy smile of yours.

As your giggles died down, a wave of exhaustion washed over you and you couldn’t hold back your yawn. Despite doing your best to stifle it off camera, your ever attentive boyfriend still caught on.

“Are you tired baby? Sorry for keeping you up, we can always catch up tomorrow instead”, he said apologetically.

“No, no, if anyone should be tired it’s you. You’re the one that just finished a whole concert! Besides, I like hearing you talk. Tell me more about your day”.

At your gentle prompting, Wonwoo launched into another story about Dino’s latest antics. Despite his animated retelling of the members bullying their maknae, you felt calmed by his voice and felt yourself slowly being lulled to sleep. As your eyes drooped further, a gentle “sleep well baby” was the last thing you heard before your eyes shut completely.

—

The next morning you wake up to a text received at 4 am:

‘Sorry honey, we’ll have to take a rain check on our plans today. I’ve been kidnapped’

‘We’re going to Italy. I’ll bring you back some limoncello to make it up to you x’

You wracked your sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of his message before you remembered - Youth Over Flowers! You felt a slight twinge in your chest at having to cancel your date night, but that was quickly overtaken by excitement for your boyfriend, whom you know has never been to Italy before. You had considered visiting together in the past, but you’d never been able to make it work with your boyfriend’s packed schedule. Your boyfriend had rarely been able to go abroad for leisure at all in the past, let alone with almost all his members. The fact that Na PD somehow managed to surprise the boys, despite them losing all hope of the trip actually happening, just made it that much more sweet.

As you set to work looking up restaurant recommendations in Italy to make sure that your boyfriend was able to enjoy his trip to the fullest, a knock sounded on your door. Jumping out of bed and pulling on a dressing gown, you quickly made your way to the door.

“Pizza for Y/N?” It was the pizza place you’ve been wanting to try.

“I don’t think I ordered this? Do you have the wrong place?” you responded, bewildered.

“It was ordered to this address under the name of Jeon Wonwoo. There was a note left on the receipt.” At that your heart swelled, and you accepted the box gratefully from the delivery driver.

As you settled down at the kitchen table with the still hot box, you unfolded the receipt and took in the message your lover left for you.

“Sorry I can’t be there today baby. Please take this as my peace offering while I’m off expanding my pizza horizons in Italy. I hope you have a good day at work, can’t wait to see you soon! 10 days can’t go by fast enough. Please wait for me a little longer love <3”

You smiled softly at the thought of him, bleary eyed, having to pack all of his belongings in a rush, but still taking the time to think of you.

You took a bite of the piping hot pizza covered in your favourite toppings - delicious. Who ever said pizza wasn’t a breakfast food anyway?

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen imagines #seventeen kpop #kpop #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction

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luneaticlab · 4 months

Text

AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

----------------------------------------------------------

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

----------------------------------------------------------

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

----------------------------------------------------------

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

#jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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highvern · 6 months

Text

adamas et aurum

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: gross domestic fluff, boyfriend mingyu

Length: ~1.7k

Note: more Drunk Goggles couple bc im beating a dead horse. idk why i do this to myself :) crying :) in :) the :) club :)

read more here

“You owe me a kiss.”

“Oh, do I?”

Mingyu huffs, face covered in sweat, backwards hat matting his hair to his skull, bare chest rose-colored from the fiery sun and swampy humidity. You’ve both spent all morning moving boxes to and fro so he’s about two seconds away from laying down on the floor for a much needed nap. When it came to heavier stuff, Mingyu insisted you stay and start unpacking the necessities so the apartment would at least be somewhat functional around all the mess. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that his shredded patience couldn’t handle any more of your help. Thank god some of the guys are coming over tomorrow to help him with the furniture.

Because of his chivalry, you’ve stayed cool in the AC, humming to the music blasting from a speaker in the kitchen as you work to make the new space a home. All the while Mingyu slaves away to lug in stuff he doesn’t remember either of you owning.

“Boyfriend tax.”

“Ahhhh,” you nod.

Jumping up on your toes, you deliver a cartoonishly wet smack on his lips as a thank you for his hard word.

“How’s it going?”

“Bathroom is mostly unpacked but we need to get some bins to organize under the sink. Oh! And the beds made too!” You chirp, turning back to your task of wiping out the cabinets and drawers of your new kitchen. “If you wanna wash up and lay down, I’ll order something to eat.”

“You’re the best.” he sighs, stepping into the space behind you, chest against your back, face tucked into the curve of your shoulder, hands grasping the edge of the counter on each side of your hips.

“My man works hard, gotta take care of him.” You praise, twisting your neck to drop a kiss to his temple causing you to get a whiff of his sweat.

“Now go shower, you stink.”

“Hey!” Mingyu objects, face moving over your shoulder so he can look at you. “I’m sorry I’ve been roleplaying as your hot shirtless mover for the last two hours. Bust my butt and this is how you thank me?”

Turning to face him, you tangle your arms around his neck, linking your hands behind his head and pulling him into a bear hug. His palms slide around the sensitive skin of your back, pulling you closer as your shirt sticks to his sweaty chest uncomfortably where you press together. But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, you’re together, in the new apartment you share, starting the next chapter of your lives.

“Thank you, Mingyu. I love you.” You whisper into his collarbone.

“Damn right.” He mumbles, tilting his head down to drop a sweet peck to your mouth, arms giving a tight squeeze before swatting at your ass as he turns towards the bedroom.

“Hey!”

“Boyfriend tax!” He calls over his shoulder, amusement bubbling in his voice.

Your eyes trail after him, heart swelling as it begins to fully register what you’ve done. He’s here and his name is on the lease next to yours; your matching keys hanging by the door, assigned parking spots downstairs next to each other. Mingyu just went into your shared bedroom, to take a shower in your shared bathroom, and tonight you’ll curl up beside him in your shared bed.

Wonwoo moving in with his girlfriend has been the catalyst for the much needed conversation. Mingyu had essentially been living out of your apartment for months already, only returning to his own place every few days for fresh clothes or to see his friend. When his roommate told him he was planning to move out after their lease ended in four months you simply scoffed at his distress about where to live.

“You basically live with me anyway.” You mumbled, not thinking about what the statement implied.

“I—,” he gapes. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I just mean, you already stay here so much anyway.” You grumble, suddenly feeling awkward in his hold.

“Can you just ask me nicely?” He whines. “I wanna be romanced.”

Humoring him, you slide to the floor in front of the couch you two had been draped across. Dropping to one knee, you cup your hands together in a makeshift box like you’re proposing. Your eyes round and brows raise, attempting and failing to give him an earnest expression.

“Kim Mingyu, love of my life, future father of my children, bane of my existence. Will you do me the honor of moving in with me?”

“Bain of your existence?”

“Focus.” You snap your fingers. “Will you move in with me?”

“Duh,” he beams, tackling you to the ground and snaring you in a bear hug as you squeal in delight.

Your friends had warned you about signing a lease together; that no matter how many nights Mingyu stays at your apartment (twenty three in a row is his record), when you call the same place home things will be different. And all of his bad habits won’t change just because he’s living with his girlfriend. If anything they may get worse because it's his home now too and he’s no longer a long staying guest.

You already knew that Mingyu tends to leave the seat up after using the bathroom, and will collapse with laughter if you fall in; that he insists on burying his cold feet under your butt when sitting on the couch, occasionally wiggling his toes just to piss you off; and how he will put the carton of milk back in the fridge even if there's only a drop left no matter how many threats against his person you make.

But Mingyu also sets his alarm ten minutes earlier than needed so he can hold you in bed before starting the day, basking in each others drowsy warmth before braving the world outside the sheets; he frequently insists you sit between his legs on the floor and let him dry your hair after you shower, gently combing his fingers through it, sometimes twisting the locks into messy braids or buns with his clumsy hands; how he’ll surprise you with a candle light dinner, insisting you both dress up even though your sitting at the kitchen table on a Tuesday eating reheated leftovers, just because he can.

No matter how annoying his bad habits are, the good ones are worth their weight and more in gold.

A shockingly girlish shriek shatters your daydream.

Hightailing it to the bathroom, you spot your stark naked boyfriend through the plastic of the shower liner, quivering in the corner of the stall like a leaf blowing in the wind.

“What’s wrong?”

“Its fucking hot!” He cries, over his shoulder, trying to shield his body from the spray by curling into the tiled wall.

Heaving a sigh of relief and annoyance, you can’t help rolling your eyes as you step towards the front of the tub and twist the faucet, adjusting to a cooler temperature for him so he doesn’t have to stick his arm through the scalding rain.

“Big baby,” you grumble before heading back to the kitchen.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

Mingyu shuffles into the bedroom, towel draped low on his waist, beads of water falling from his hair to his collarbone as he looks for the duffle bag he packed with clothes for the next few days; but the scene before him stops him in his tracks. The sun from the window casts the room in a buttery yellow, beams of light dappling your figure sprawled on the bed, mouth open slightly and hair a mess around your face. He leans a shoulder against the door frame, tired eyes full of love and mouth lifted in a gentle smile as his soulmate snores quietly a few feet away.

When you asked if he wanted to move in together, Mingyu lacked the self control needed to stop from jumping up and screeching like a kid in a candy store. The thought of living with his favorite person in the world had his heart tremble and his palms sweat. Despite all the oddities and quirks he learned about you in the past two years of dating, almost everyone warned him that you can’t really know someone till you live with them. He thinks the months before today had prepared him for the inevitable annoyances you two would face.

He’s accepted that you leave hair on the walls of the shower that eventually clog the drain, pooling water around his feet when he hops in the stall before work; how you push around takeout boxes and spoiled produce in the fridge for days instead of throwing them out; and that piles of unfolded laundry will sit on the edge of the couch for days on end until one day the planets align and you decide to re-organize your entire closet after folding the wrinkle garments.

Mingyu accepts all of those things because he also knows you like to surprise him by grabbing all the ingredients for a recipe he mentions wanting to try in passing, happily volunteering to be his sous chef and taste tester, insisting you both don the couple aprons his mom got you for Christmas; that when he isn’t feeling well you’ll scratch his back until he falls asleep with his cheek squished on your stomach while you fret over him; how you always wait up for him when he gets ready for bed, glazed eyes opening every few minutes to blink lazily, soft breath tickling the skin between his shoulder blades where your head lays only interrupted by an occasional sleepy kiss on his spine while he brushes his teeth.

His friends mentioned all the ways moving in together will change the way you see each other. But in the two years you’ve been dating, each time your relationship changed it's been for the better. When you two started hanging out on your own and he found his opinion on you shifting completely. When you admitted you liked each other and he learned you were a lot braver than he was. When you two fought for the first time and he realized that as brave as you were, you weren’t invincible. When he said he loved you for the first time by accident and discovered you were just as in this as he was. All the fights that challenged you to understand each other better, the struggles that strained your ability to take care of one another; all of it had changed your relationship but pressure makes a diamond.

A lot like the one he plans to give you when he asks if you want to change your relationship again one day.

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #dghe couple #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #🫡 highvern #OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH BOY

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 month

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [11] - Arrogance

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Engagement period is supposed to be romantic.

Word Count: 3300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

For the next couple of days, you barely had any time for yourself. It wasn’t as if you were naive enough to believe planning a wedding would be relaxing, but this?

This was something else.

“Can I just let you handle the whole thing?” you asked your wedding planner on the phone, leaning back on your seat while you kept your eyes on the people in the café and she let out a laugh.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your trust in me,” she said. “But you still need to choose among the things I send you, otherwise it’ll be like it's my wedding.”

“I don’t know, you strike me as a person who has good taste,” you said. “I might not be completely opposed to that idea.”

“Thanks but I already planned and had my wedding.”

“Right!” you said, snapping your fingers. “You said you were married to a professor, right?”

“Mm hm.”

“Was there like an open floor for discussions on your wedding?”

“Nah, more like an open bar,” she said. “And don’t try to distract me, my assistant sent you like one hundred emails.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered. “At least I decided on the place.”

“Yeah one down, ninety-nine to go,” she said. “Barnes weekend residence. We’re going there tomorrow right?”

“Yeah at 2 o’clock, it’s already on my calendar.”

“Great,” she said. “Answer my emails by then, please?”

“I will, talk to you later!” you said as you saw Ethan walk into the café and you waved at him after hanging up.

“Hey!” he said, coming to hug you when you stood up from your seat. “It’s been a while!”

“Hey yourself,” you said and pulled back from the hug to smile at him, then sat down when he did. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been busy.”

“So I figured,” he said after ordering a coffee to the waiter who approached your table to take his order and you sat up straighter.

“How about you?” you said. “How is everything at the company?”

“Also pretty chaotic,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve been working overtime, a lot.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” he said. “Yeah it’s just…it’s a really big company that wants things done in a certain way.”

“Do you want me to send someone around so that they can talk to your boss?”

His eyes widened.

“I—you—” he stammered. “I’m— I’m honored but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” you asked, tilting your head. “If they’re giving you a hard time, it’s only fair if they have a hard time as well.”

He stared at you as the waiter put the cup of coffee in front of him, and then he cleared his throat.

“I’ll never get used to your lifestyle I think.”

“That’s a good thing,” you said with a small smile. “Please don’t.”

“So how about you?” he asked. “What have you been up to?”

You blinked a couple of times, nervousness churning your stomach before you took a sip of your coffee.

“That’s actually why I asked you here,” you muttered. “And I—I know it’s going to sound a bit rushed, but um…”

He pulled his brows together, his whole attention on you.

“What is it?” he asked and you swallowed thickly, then tried to smile.

“I’m getting married.”

He gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence as if he wasn’t sure if he had heard you right while you just sat there, nibbling on your lip.

“You…you what?” he asked when he could pull himself together and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Getting married,” you said. “In a month, actually.”

“I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship—”

“I wasn’t,” you cut him off and a look of realization dawned on his face, making him pull back slightly.

“This is what we talked about all those years ago, isn’t it?” he asked. “Back at college. I asked you numerous times and you said no but in your world—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted him again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You can say no,” he insisted and you sipped your coffee, reminding yourself to not let anything show on your face.

“What makes you think I want to say no?”

“You want to get married?” he asked with a dry laugh. “And to whom, if you don’t mind me ask?”

“Bucky Barnes.”

Ethan blinked a couple of times.

“…Bucky Barnes as in the guy you hate?”

“Things change,” you said calmly and he scoffed.

“Do they?” he asked. “So it’s a love marriage? Nothing to do with your family business?”

“To repeat, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your world—”

“Ethan, I don’t mean to be rude,” you said through your teeth. “But if you genuinely believe that you know anything about my world, you’re fooling yourself.”

He pressed his lips together, then took a deep breath and pushed his chair back, your bodyguards sitting up straighter as if on cue but you held up a hand, gesturing at them to sit still. Ethan looked between you and the bodyguards, then let out a somber chuckle and put some cash on the table.

“For the coffee,” he said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Ethan…”

“If they’re forcing you to do this—”

“Nobody is forcing me,” you told him, looking him in the eye and he nodded his head slowly.

“Then I guess congratulations on the wedding,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m not going to pretend I know anything about your world Y/N, I’m just…I’m just wondering what happened to the girl who told me she’d only marry for love, that’s all.”

With that, he walked out of the café and you gritted your teeth, then pressed your palms on your eyes, slouching in your chair.

“I killed her I guess,” you muttered to yourself and lowered your hands. “Occupational hazard and all.”

As you knocked on the door to Becca’s apartment, you could swear your head was about to explode from the headache pounding in your temples. You heaved a sigh and rubbed at your eyes, then heard the footsteps before the door opened.

“Oh hi Y/N!” Leila said. “It's great to see you, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, offering her a smile. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all, come in!”

“Is Becca here?”

“Yeah!” she said as she stepped aside so that you could go in. “We were just watching—um, are you okay?”

“Not exactly,” you grumbled and made your way to the living room to see Becca sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand.

“Hey, I didn’t know—” she started but stopped talking when you flung yourself on the other couch across from hers, letting out a groan. You could hear Leila entering the living room as well and you raised your head from the pillow with a sigh.

“Do either of you have a painkiller?”

“Oh yeah, let me get it for you,” Leila said and rushed to the kitchen while you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, then hugged a pillow over your stomach.

“What’s going on?” Becca asked and you huffed out.

“Terrible day. Do you want to go out for drinks?”

“I’d love to but I have plans,” she said apologetically. “I’ll go out in like an hour.”

“What plans?”

“Uh…therapy,” she answered as Leila came back to the living room holding a glass of water and a pill.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you took them from her and she smiled at you, then went to sit beside Becca after you swallowed the pill and put the glass on the small coffee table.

“So?” Becca said. “What happened? Is it Bucky?”

“For once, nope.”

“Congratulations on the engagement by the way!” Leila said. “To be honest, I could kind of tell something was there even when you two kept arguing that night.”

You raised your brows and stole a look at Becca who shrugged her shoulders subtly. It wasn’t that you thought she would say anything to anyone about the real reason why you and Bucky were getting married, but she had fallen so head over heels in love with Leila that it took you by surprise that she hadn’t told her either.

But on a second thought, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised. Not only would you trust Becca with your life, but Becca was also raised with the same rules as you and Bucky were, and secrets were almost sacred in your world.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile. “It’s a bit rushed but when you know you know.”

“That’s so true,” Leila said, holding Becca’s hand and a cute blush spread over Becca’s cheeks, making you smile despite the headache.

“So it’s not Bucky then?” Becca asked and you massaged your temples.

“Ethan.”

“Oh I liked Ethan—” Leila started, but stopped when she saw the look on your face. “Or you know, I could also hate him if we hate him now, I don’t mind.”

“No no,” you said. “He’s sweet but um…I told him the news about the wedding and he understandably did not like it.”

“You two weren’t together though?”

“Eh, there was still something,” Becca said. “He likes you, a lot.”

“He thinks I’m being forced into this,” you said and Becca shot you a smile.

“As if anyone could force you into marrying my brother.”

“I mean it’s not the nineteenth century,” Leila pointed out and Becca let out a laugh.

“So, how heartbroken was he?”

“I wouldn’t say he was heartbroken,” you muttered. “Just angry I guess. And I get it, I haven’t been completely honest with him—” You were cut off when your phone started vibrating and you took a look at the screen, then pushed yourself off the couch.

“I’ll be right back,” you said and walked to Becca’s bedroom, then took the phone to your ear.

“Yeah?”

“Hey beautiful,” Bucky’s voice reached you and you sat down on Becca’s bed, fully aware that you were pouting your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’s your day going?”

“Meh,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “What is it?”

“I just called to let you know we have a dinner reservation tonight,” he said. “I’ll pick you up from the hotel around 8?”

You made a face. “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t like your presence any more than you like mine,” you stated. “And it’ll be harder for me to ignore you in a restaurant if it’s just the two of us having dinner.”

“I mean, you do realize you don’t have to ignore me—”

“I know I don’t have to, it’s more of a hobby,” you said. “So? Why are you taking me out to dinner?”

“Because if we want people to believe it’s a love marriage rather than what it actually is, we need to be seen outside as a couple,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then ran a hand over your face.

“Right.”

“So then—”

“Yeah you can pick me up at 8,” you said and he paused for a second.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You sound a bit…”

“Yeah I’m fine,” you said in a rush. “It’s just you know, this whole marriage thing—I’m fine. I’m great.”

“Very convincing,” he deadpanned and you scoffed a laugh.

“Just pick a nice restaurant, will you?” you asked and hung up before he could retort, then huffed out and got up from the bed to walk back to the living room to see Leila walking to the kitchen.

“So Becca has stuff to do but I figured we could drink and watch trash TV if you’d like?” she asked as soon as she saw you. “I can make mimosas.”

You blinked a couple of times and nodded fervently.

“That’d be great!” you said and she gave you a happy smile, then entered the kitchen. You smiled to yourself, then flung yourself next to Becca.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you said and Becca tilted her head.

“About what?”

“About what I said earlier,” you said. “You totally should propose and marry her, she’s amazing.”

Even you had to admit, the restaurants in Bucky’s territory were better than the ones in your father’s territory.

It was rather annoying but considering your house with him would of course be in his territory, at least you already knew you would get good food whenever you two went out for dinner. Bucky’s palm was warm on the small of your back and if it were any other time you would have slipped out of his grasp but you let him guide you to the restaurant.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s an honor,” A man greeted you two by the entrance. “Your table is ready, please follow me.”

You looked around the luxurious interior as you and Bucky made your way to your table, and a waiter pulled your chair for you to sit down. You took a quick look at the menu before ordering and Bucky just asked for his usual, and you watched the waiter walk away with the man.

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” you told Bucky. “When did it open?”

“Around a year ago,” he said. “I like it here, it’s…private, mostly.”

You hummed while the waiter filled your glass with wine and you took a sip, enjoying the nice taste.

“So my dad called while I was getting ready,” you said. “Apparently he will talk to Stark sometime this week.”

“I have a pretty good guess about how that will go,” Bucky muttered and you bit inside your cheek.

“You think Stark will make things difficult?”

“I mean he’s not going to like it because two families uniting means a tremendous power in the city,” Bucky stated. “Let’s see how he reacts and plan accordingly.”

“Might have to sweettalk him,” you said. “Gift him a shipment or two. And Romanoff?”

“I’m meeting her tomorrow,” he said. “Steve will be there too, they’re old friends. Any stupid comments from Ian lately?”

“Nope. By the way I was going to ask you but I forgot—that night, when you and Ian were talking,” you said. “What did he tell you?”

Bucky scoffed before taking a sip of his wine.

“He was saying that you wanted to be an active player in the business,” he said with a small smile. “Just in case I didn’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Idiot.”

“But I don’t think he suspects anything.”

“No, he thinks the same as my dad,” you said with a dry laugh. “I get married and pop out a few babies and become a fucking Stepford Wife.”

Bucky shot you a grin, then his head shot up.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he said and took out a small velvet box out of his pocket, then put it on the table. You arched a brow.

“Is that the ring?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah you can take it back,” you said after sipping your wine. “I’ll go and check some jewelers tomorrow and get something pretty, they can send you the bill.”

He pulled his brows together. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I don’t need to, I’ve seen the women you dated,” you pointed out. “Something tells me they didn’t educate you well about jewelry so there’s no need for—”

You stopped talking when he reached out to open the small box for you and your eyes fell upon the ring, the rest of your sentence getting stuck in your throat. The pear-shaped diamond on the delicate rose gold band was so pretty that for a couple of seconds you could only stare at it while it glimmered under the dim light of the restaurant, almost hypnotizing you before you remembered to pull yourself together.

It was definitely to your taste, as if…

“Becca helped you,” you managed to say as you reached out to take it into your hand and he nodded.

“Mm hm. Today.”

“Well played.”

Bucky gave you a proud smile, his piercing blue gaze almost too hot on your skin and you slipped the ring onto your finger, then held up your hand so that you could look at it better.

“It’s pretty,” you said. “I’m keeping it in the divorce by the way.”

He clutched as his chest. “Don’t be so romantic Charm, I’m going to get emotional.”

That made a laugh spill from your lips while the waiter brought your food, and you thanked him while Bucky leaned forward on his elbows as if he wasn’t even aware of anything else but you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“How did you use to imagine it?”

You looked at him. “Imagine what?”

“Your engagement period, your wedding, you name it,” he said and you hummed, then leaned back.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe we can make the wedding the way you pictured it,” he said and you scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt it,” you said. “When I pictured my wedding, I always pictured myself in love. There was this fairytale wedding, gorgeous wedding gown, we’d go to Paris for the honeymoon and he’d be reciting poetry about how much he was in love with me in bed.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

“I’m not good with poetry.”

“Never thought you were,” you said. “Eh, maybe my second marriage will go the way I pictured it.”

That caused a shadow to cross his eyes but he recovered fast, sipping his drink.

“How about you?” you asked. “How did you use to imagine your second marriage?”

He tilted his head. “What happened to my first marriage?”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said, pointing at him with your fork. “Funny story. You knocked her up and you guys decided to keep it because you got emotional and it would be your first heir, so you two ended up getting married in a rush and named that baby your actual heir.”

An amused smile curled his lips. “Interesting. Go on.”

“But after the baby, that marriage turned into one full of resentment and then you decided it was a good idea to fuck your secretary.”

“So I live in a porn scenario?” he asked and you nodded.

“Pretty much. Then your wife left you, took away all your things—”

“I don’t have a prenup?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Impossible.”

“You don’t exactly have a prenup with me.”

He winked at you. “Maybe I trust you.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” you retorted, making him chuckle. “But yeah, your first wife divorced you. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“It was good while it lasted, I’m sure.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure, she hates you,” you said airily. “Rightfully, that is. Then you meet your second wife who definitely deserves better than you, but by some miracle she stays with you.”

“Thanks a lot, she sounds amazing.”

“Right?” you said. “There you go. Your two marriages.”

“Very creative,” he pointed out. “Do I recite poetry to her in this scenario?”

“Yes but you also have performance problems so romance makes up for it, in a way,” you stated and he smirked.

“You seem to put a lot of thought into my performance, pillow princess.”

Your jaw dropped as you gasped. “Wh—how dare—you don’t even—”

“Please,” he said. “You dream of a guy reciting poetry to you on your honeymoon.”

You could feel your cheeks burning as you glared daggers at him.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, making him smirk.

“That being said, you have nothing to worry about my performance.”

You rolled your eyes at him while you chewed on your bite, then swallowed it.

“See Bucky, this is exactly why when I divorce you, I’m keeping the ring and the weekend house,” you pointed at him with your fork, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “You’re too arrogant for your own good.”

Chapter 12

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob! bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob!au #mob au

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tonyspank · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | GET ME

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

Warnings: Jenna’s husband being a dickhead. And I think that’s all?

Words: 5.7k

A/N: I’m going to try and get chapter six out for the party and the after party tonight or tomorrow!

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Two weeks. Fourteen and a half days, or three hundred and forty-eight hours. That's how long it's been since you've held a conversation with Jenna, and it feels like an eternity. You've been wanting to talk to her and apologize, but she's been avoiding you. And she's doing a wonderful job at it, but you can't lie and not act like you're making it any harder for her to do so.

Instead of waking up at your usual time, you've been waking up thirty minutes earlier, and getting a ride for Eli. After practice, Eli drops you off before heading home himself, and then you'll grab a snack from the fridge, check for towels before you shower, sleep, and then repeat.

On the days you don't have practice you're out with Olivia, doing whatever comes to mind. Again, she's a very sweet girl, kind and loyal, and you can't help but admire her. You've been spending a lot of time with her and it's been great because you both enjoy each other's company.

She's been telling you about how she's started writing songs and they're mainly about her ex-boyfriend. She says her songs are a way of healing, and letting go of her past. You have been supportive and encouraging her to continue writing, and you've been there to listen to her stories while she works through her feelings.

Eli thinks you should stop and hurry up and apologize to Jenna. For someone who wants Jenna for himself, he was so keen on you two being on good terms. Eli was over at your place since it was an early dismissal at school today, and also a Friday.

"I still can't believe you're not talking." You open your mouth to speak but Eli beats you. "Just apologize and be done with it, man." You feel your neck flush. You open your mouth to reply but it only comes out as a stutter. Eli shakes his head and sighs, "All of this because she saw your lil Jimmy John."

You take a bite out of your apple sending a slight glare while doing so. Eli laughs and you swallow your bite before speaking, "Shut up. It's not that simple."

Eli smirks and shakes his head. "You know it is," he says. "You just don't want to admit it." You glare at him, not wanting to give in. You take another bite of the apple, savouring the sweet crunch. "No, it's not," you say firmly.

"Yes, it is. You're avoiding her, she's not avoiding you." You sigh in frustration. You know he's right, but you can't admit it. You set the half-eaten apple down, "Because it's awkward!" He shakes his head and smiles. "It's never going to be not awkward if you don't talk to her. It's better to just go for it and get it over with." He reaches for your apple and takes a bite. "Trust me."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Keep the apple, bitch." He grins, taking another bite of the apple. "You started avoiding her after she saw you naked and then she probably took it as a hint that you didn't want to speak to her, which you don't and started to avoid you herself." You sigh and roll your eyes. He takes another bite of the apple. "She's just as embarrassed as you are."

"So why not just apologize and move on?" He shrugs, taking the last bite of the apple. "It's not that hard. Just be honest and it'll be over in no time and don't walk around naked knowing you have company over." He wipes his mouth and stands up throwing away the apple.

"Where is my wife anyway?" You stare at him blankly at the nickname, "She's out."

He looks around the room for a second before he sighs. "Alright, I guess let's just order pizza and finish the movie you fell asleep on." You throw your head back groaning, "Fuck no! I'm not watching that movie. I fell asleep on it for a reason." He laughs, shaking his head. "Fine. What do you wanna watch then?" You smile, "Puss N Boots."

He raises an eyebrow, but agrees, "Fine, Puss N Boots it is." He pulls out his phone and orders a pizza, and you stand up from the bar stool, heading into the living room.

Thirty minutes later, Jenna was heading home with her friend Emma. She had no idea you were home, and she definitely didn't know Eli was over with you. "Am I about to meet the too attractive for her age, Y/N?" Emma asks with a smile, repeating Jenna's words from earlier today. Jenna sends Emma a glare, unlocking the front door.

Emma giggles, stepping inside and turning to look at Jenna. "So, is it a yes or a no?" She asks with a smirk. Jenna rolls her eyes and walks inside, closing the door behind her. "No. She's at school." Emma's face falls and she sighs. "That's disappointing." She turns away and walks towards the kitchen. Jenna follows but stays silent.

"It smells like pizza," Emma says and looks back at Jenna who nods in agreement.

You pause as you hear sounds coming from the kitchen. You snap your head at Eli who's too invested in the movie to hear anything. He chews his cheese pizza letting out a laugh before taking another bite. "Eli." Eli turns to you and sees the worry in your eyes. He slowly puts down his pizza and turns down the TV. "What is it?"

"I think Jenna's home." His face lights up and he holds his pizza in his mouth jumping up happily, you follow the boy who nearly jogs to the kitchen. Jenna and Emma turn around at the sound of something falling to the floor. It's the pizza that slipped from his mouth.

"MY PIZZA! NOOOOOOO!" Eli yells out as you stare at the two women in front of you. Jenna and Emma smile, amused by the boy's dramatic reaction.

He quickly picks up the pizza and takes a big bite. "Dude, that's so gross." You mutter, squeezing past him and further into the kitchen. Eli continues to eat the pizza off the floor. "It's not that bad," he says with a mouthful. You shake your head in disbelief and watch as the blonde woman whispers something into Jenna's ear.

"I thought she was at school, hm?" Emma whispers, a smile on her lips. Jenna's cheeks flush and she quickly avoids eye contact with everyone in the room. You frown, wondering what that was all about, but it soon disappears as you examine Jenna's outfit.

She was wearing a cropped white button-up, a black tie and a long grey split colored skirt. One side was darker than the other, her socks matching it perfectly. Her shoes were black loafers that matched the tie. A pair of glasses sat on top of her head while her headphones hung from her neck. She really does always have a pair of headphones on her.

She had a unique style, one that blended modern and vintage elements creatively. It was eye-catching and inspiring, and it seemed to suit her perfectly. She looked amazing in it, and it was clear she had a lot of confidence in her own style.

The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi. It's so nice to meet you. I'm Emma, Jenna's friend." You smile back, holding out a hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you too—" Eli steps in front of you, shaking her hand himself and introducing himself. "Hey beautiful, I'm Elias Cooper the third." Emma looks taken aback, laughing in shock and surprise as she shakes his hand.

"He's not a third." You and Jenna both say in sync. You and Jenna exchange a glance, and Emma laughs again. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Elias," she says. Eli raises her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss onto her hand while not breaking eye contact. Emma giggles looking at Jenna, and Eli lowers her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too," he says, his voice low and rich. Jenna clears her throat, and you place a hand on his shoulder, rescuing Emma from the situation.

Eli stands up straight again, and you quickly shake Emma's hand. "I'm Y/N. Sorry about him." Emma's face lights up with a smile. "It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." She turns to Jenna with a mischievous glint in her eye, mouthing, "Sexy indeed." Jenna turns a deep shade of red and averts her gaze and Emma grins even wider.

"Don't you two have school? Why are you home?" Emma asks. Jenna sighs in relief at not having to ask herself. You nod and Eli speaks up for you, "We had an early dismissal."

"Oh, I see," Emma said. Jenna's eyes roam over you, taking in your white tee that fits your biceps just right. Or your black sweatpants that sag just enough to show the Calvin Klein band in your boxers. Jenna's gaze lingers for a moment before she looks away, blushing. She quickly turns her attention back to Emma, trying to focus on the conversation.

But Eli noticed it all his eyes widening as he stopped himself from letting his jaw drop in shock. He quickly regained his composure and tried to act as if nothing had happened. Eli glanced at Jenna, who was still blushing. He smirked, his lips turning up into a mischievous grin.

"— home safety." Emma finishes off, and you and Eli nod. "Yeah, I'm leaving as well. I just wanted to hang out with her since she's been spending all her time with Olivia." Eli says, staring you down at the last part.

Emma laughs while Jenna's lips twitch downwards. Who's Olivia? "Who's Olivia?" Emma asked with a hint of curiosity. You shake your head, "She's just a friend." Eli sends a quick look to Jenna before throwing an around your shoulder and placing a hand on your stomach. "A friend who wants to be more than friends!"

He tells Emma and you sigh at the boy. Emma's eyes widen, and Jenna scoffs quietly. You roll your eyes and move away from Eli, hoping to avoid any further conversation about Olivia.

"I should get going," Emma announces to everyone with a small frown. Jenna nods and Eli feels his pockets for his keys, "Me too." Eli begins walking into the living room and you follow behind him.

While that happens Emma and Jenna are making their way to the front door, Emma gives Jenna a hug pulling away with a smirk on her lips. "I saw those glances at Y/N." Jenna blushed, trying to deny it. She was about to say something, but Emma just laughed and shook her head. "Come on. Just admit it."

"Em, I'm married." Emma rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "Unhappily. When's the last time you even got laid?" Jenna opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She looked away, trying to hide the blush that had spread across her cheeks. "That's what I thought," Emma said smugly.

"Y/N is my best friend's daughter and not only that but she's eighteen," Jenna exclaims. There were a lot of reasons this was a bad idea, but these were her main concerns. Along with being engaged of course. She didn't want to get caught up in a scandal, and she didn't want to make your parents mad. Especially since she was already getting married.

Jenna knew she had to put a stop to this before it even began. She had to make it clear to Y/N that there was nothing more between them than friendship. She had to make sure that Y/N understood that she needed to focus on her future and not on Jenna.

But the way you looked, the way she felt, she couldn't help but think about what if? Her husband was barely home and he barely even called. And here you are, giving her kisses on her temple and sending photos of her to your best friend. She knew it was wrong but she couldn't resist the temptation. She wanted so badly to feel alive again.

"She's an adult. She can make her own choices. Plus, she seems respectful." Emma says, shrugging slightly. Emma looked away, embarrassed. She knew she was wrong in encouraging her friend, but she couldn't help it. She had been in her friend's shoes not so long ago and she wanted her to be happy.

She was trying to be supportive, even if it was misguided. She wanted her friend to be able to make the decisions that she thought were best for her, regardless of the consequences.

While they spoke, you and Eli were as well.

Eli searches the couch for his keys, tossing a few pillows to the side. You cross your arms, "They're on the table." He turns his head, and they indeed are on the coffee table. "Oh, shit. Thanks."

Eli grabs his keys, "Thank you, baby girl." You scrunch up your face, "Shut up." Eli laughs and throws his keys in the air. He catches them and gives you an exaggerated bow. "My humble thanks to you, my lady." You roll your eyes and Eli grins. "You better talk to her."

You uncross your arms, sighing. "And say what exactly? Oh, sorry Jenna. I didn't mean for you to see me naked, I was just heading to get a towel. I thought you were asleep." Eli pauses then gives you a single nod, "Yes. Say exactly that. It's not rocket science." You take a deep breath, then exhale. "Okay, I'll apologize."

Eli plays with his keys. "Good." He turns to leave but immediately turns back around. "Also! You can keep Jenna for yourself. I want Emma." You raise an eyebrow and look at Eli, confused. He smiles and rolls his eyes. "Just kidding. Hashtag Jenna for life." He laughs and starts to walk away. You watch him go, still trying to process what had just happened. You shake your head and laugh, deciding it was best not to question it.

Jenna opens her mouth to reply to Emma but closes it, turning around as Eli enters the room. He stops short when he sees the two and quickly puts on a smile. "Hey, ladies. Looking even more gorgeous than earlier." He says, Emma grins and Jenna shakes her head. "Hey Eli, leaving?"

Eli nods. "Yup, I'm headed out. See you around." Eli gives a small before walking out of the room, leaving Emma and Jenna alone. "He's cute as well," Emma whispers, smiling. Jenna laughs. "We'll talk later, yeah?" Emma nods and follows Eli out the door.

Jenna watched them leave, a small smile on her face. She shook her head and went back to the kitchen, slightly jumping when you were already there, waiting for her. A sad smile was on your lips as you leaned against the counter. "Hey, Jen. Can we talk?" Jenna hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, of course."

"I uh, I just wanted to apologize for--" You motion with your hands trying to find the right words. "For walking out without a towel, I honestly thought you were asleep." You look away, feeling embarrassed. You take a deep breath and look back, hoping for a response. "I'm sorry," you say again, hoping your apology is accepted.

There's a long pause, and you can feel your heart racing. Suddenly, your Jenna breaks the silence and says, "It's okay. Don't worry about it." You let out a sigh of relief and offer a weak smile. "Thank you," you reply.

Jenna smiles back and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You feel a sense of calm come over you as you look into Jenna's eyes. You give her hand a gentle squeeze in return, "Can we hug?" Jenna smiles and pulls you in for a hug. You wrap your arms around her and exhale, enjoying the feeling of being so close to her. A soft hand rubs up and down your back gently.

The warm feeling of connection between you and Jenna slowly dissipates as you pull away. You look at each other, a mutual understanding in your eyes. Jenna reaches up to caress your cheek before releasing you and stepping back.

Your face tingles from her touch and your face begins heating up. "There, um. There's still a box of pizza left if you want some." She hums, "What's on it?" You stutter in response, "Uh, cheese and pepperoni."

"I'm a pescetarian."

"Oh, um, sorry about that. I didn't know." You fumble for words, trying to think of what to say next. She laughs softly and says, "It's okay. I'll just have the cheese." You furrow your eyebrows, "Wait. Didn't you have chicken and rice that one day?" You refer back to the day she cooked for you.

"That was for you. I had eaten something beforehand." You feel guilty for not realizing it before. "I'm sorry," you say, "I should have known that." She smiles and shakes her head, "It's alright. I'll just order something else."

"That's why you ordered that veggie sandwich." You mumble loud enough for her to hear. She laughs, "Yes, that's why." You look down at the ground, thinking a bit before letting out a, "Huh." She stares at you, her eyes twinkling. She smiles and says, "It's good for you. You should try something new every once in a while." You nod, shrugging.

"Maybe." She gives you a knowing look. "Just trust me. I think you'll like it." You reluctantly agree, moving to sit down on the bar stool and continuing to talk to Jenna until Midnight comes. You can't believe you spent two weeks avoiding the older woman when the apology was so simple. You mentally groaned at the fact Eli was right.

Instead of being in bed Saturday morning, you found yourself in the school gym, your team and the opponent team warming up. "So, she just said it's okay and moved on?" Eli asks, dribbling the ball in behind him. As you sit down, you hum as you search through your gym bags for your shoes. "See! I told you, she probably thought you were upset. She's grown, I'm sure she got over it the next hour."

You pause for a moment, considering the situation. "I guess so," you finally reply. Where the fuck are your shoes? You glance behind you, looking for them. "Eli, do you have my shoes?" Eli frowns and shakes his head. "No, I don't. I thought you had them." You groan in frustration and turn away, searching the gym for your missing shoes.

You stop looking and take a deep breath. You know you must have left them somewhere, but you can't remember where. You retrace your steps, going back to the locker room and searching around the benches. "Fuck! I left them at home." You glance around the locker room one last time, just in case they were here after all.

You sigh and start heading toward your back. Eli is now sitting down with the ball in his lap. Eli notices your distress and offers to help you look for them. You tell him that you remembered they are at home, "I'll look in lost and found for another pair before Coach starts the huddle."

You nod, sitting down and reaching into your bag for your phone, dialling Jenna's number. Hopefully, she can bring your shoes in time.

Jenna pulls away her phone away from her ear, seeing an incoming call for you. She cuts off the man on her phone sighing, "Jacob. I have to go." Jacob stops her, "Jenna! I'm talking about something important."

Jenna takes a deep breath and clenches her fist in anger. "Suggesting an open marriage is important?! Are you fucking kidding me?" Jacob's voice rises on the phone, "Yes! Don't you think I have needs too?" Jenna's voice tightens, "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying that's not the way to solve this problem." Jacob pauses for a moment before stammering, "Well, what do you suggest then?

"Oh, I don't know? Maybe coming to see your wife every now and then? Taking some time off to build a family like you said you were the past ten times." Jacob clenches his jaw on the other side of the phone, "You're not my wife."

Jenna's heart sinks. She swallows the lump in her throat and says, "No, I'm not. Because someone is too fucking busy to officially marry me. You don't understand how embarrassing it is. We've been fiancées for so long that my family has stopped asking when the wedding is."She takes a deep breath and resigns herself to the fact that it's just not going to happen.

She feels tears welling up, but she quickly composes herself. "Then you have the audacity to suggest an open marriage? You're an asshole."

She places down the phone, putting it on speaker before speaking again. "Fuck you! And fuck this ring!" She takes off the ring, roughly setting it down on the kitchen counter. "Jenna--" she quickly hangs up, not wanting to hear his voice anymore.

She begins to sob, her hands shaking as she covers her face with them. Her phone starts ringing, and it's you calling her again. She takes a few deep breaths before collecting herself and wiping away her tears. She takes a moment to compose herself before answering.

"Jen! Thank God, I forgot my shoes at the door. Could you bring them to me? I'm at school and I have a game." She sniffles into the phone, about to reply but you interrupt her. "Jenna? Are you okay?" She takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'll be right there with your shoes." She hangs up and quickly grabs the shoes before rushing to school.

She arrives at the school and sees Eli, already on the court playing, but no sight of you. The woman recognizes your last name on your jersey, your back is turned towards her while you sit on the bench. Jenna takes a deep breath, smiles and jogs over to you, calling your name.

You turn around, surprised to see her. You jump up making your way to Jenna, a huge smile on your face. She hands you the shoes, and you bring her into a side hug. "Thank you so much," she nods in response. "Of course."

You stare at her, taking in her sad face and you can tell she has been crying. You set your shoes down, a slight frown on your face. "Are you okay?" Jenna nods her head, her lip trembling. She was doing a horrible job trying to convince you she was okay.

You wrap your arms around her and pull her close. You can feel her body shaking as she sobs into your shoulder. You squeeze her tighter, trying to offer her some comfort. You whisper reassuring words in her ear, letting her know she isn't alone. You stay there, hugging her until her body stops shaking.

She pulls away, wiping her eyes and shaking her head as she forces a smile on her lips. "Shit, I'm so sorry--" You interrupt her. "Don't apologize." You whisper softly, "It's alright, I'm here for you."

"You have a game to play." She whispers back, you shake your head. "You're more important than a high school game." She looks up into your eyes, her own still glistening with tears. "Thank you," she murmurs, and she takes a deep breath as her shoulders relax. You smile at her, and take her hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

You pull her back into a quick hug, pulling away and placing a kiss on the top of her head. You don't know why but you just wanted to before you let her go. She looks up at you, a small smile forming on her lips. "Go play," she says. You pick up your shoes nodding before asking, "Are you gonna watch?"

She shakes her head and pushes you away gently. "I'm more of a soccer fan but I'll support," she says. You take a few steps back, watching her for a few moments before turning away and running toward your coach. She smiles before finding a place to sit on the bleachers. Your coach calls a timeout, discussing a game plan to sub you in as your team is trailing 15 points.

Eli pats your back while you bend down to tie your shoes, looking away from your coach's whiteboard to spare a look into the crowd. His face lights up when he sees Jenna, waving at her.

It is Olivia that is seated in front of Jenna, and she thinks Eli is waving at her and her friends, so she reciprocates. Jenna smiles and waves back, but Olivia's face falls when she realizes Eli was not waving at her. Olivia turns away, trying to hide her disappointment. She forces a smile back onto her face and turns to her friends, pretending nothing had happened.

The ref informs your coach that his thirty seconds are about to come to an end, you all break out of the huddle and prepare to step onto the court. The whistle blows and the game begins. Both teams battle it out, and the crowd cheers as the energy of the game fills the air.

As Jenna's anxiety creeps up at the scoreboard, she reaches for her ring only to remember it's not there. Jenna quickly shakes her head and refocuses on the game. Clapping loudly as you steal the ball from your opponent.

You quickly pass the ball to Eli, who dribbles it to the basket and makes the shot. The crowd erupts in cheers for your team. You give Eli a pat on his back as he jogs back down the court.

It's the fourth quarter and your team is trailing by two points. Twenty seconds left on the clock. You walk up the court, calling out a play. Eli sets a screen for you and you run to the basket. Jumping off one foot, you go for the layup only to get fouled badly. You land hard but still manage to make the layup.

The crowd goes silent at the loud smack that could be heard around the arena. You stay laying on the ground, the pain coursing through your body. Jenna stands up from the bleachers, worry on her face. "Don't be hurt," she mutters to herself, repeating the three words to herself.

Chris, your teammate along with Eli jog over to you, helping you onto your feet. You take a deep breath and smile, letting your teammates know that you're okay. You give Jenna a wave and a thumbs up, and she visibly relaxes, sitting back down. Chris and Eli give you a pat on the back and the crowd cheers, relieved that you weren't seriously injured.

"Come on, make the free throw baby," Eli says, patting your back. You nod and make your way to the free-throw line. You take another deep breath, focus on the rim, and take the shot. The ball sails through the air and you hear the swish of the net. The crowd erupts and you turn to Eli who is grinning and giving you a thumbs-up. You can't help but smile back, proud of yourself for making the shot.

The opposing team is left with nine seconds on the clock, inbounding the ball and rushing it up the court. The opposing team takes a desperate shot, but it hits the backboard and rebounds out. The buzzer sounds and the game is won.

The home crowd erupts in cheers and the players on the winning team rush the court to celebrate their victory. The players hug and rejoice, thankful for the hard work they put in to secure the win. The losing team stands in silence, feeling the disappointment of the loss. They shake hands with their opponents, showing respect for the other team's effort. The game is over, and the winners bask in the glory of their victory.

As the other team walks into the guest locker room, you walk to the bleachers with a jolly smile on your face. You're staring at Jenna who smiles at you. She blows you a kiss and you dramatically drop your jaw holding a hand over your heart. She laughs, her eyes twinkling with delight. You can't help but feel your heart swell with joy, knowing that she understands your silly gesture of affection.

You jump as you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, Jenna's smile disappears as she watches you hug back the brunette girl. "Olivia! Hey," You say, pulling away from the hug. She smiles in response, resting a hand on your bicep. "You did so well!" Olivia laughs, her eyes twinkling in the arena lights. You glance back at Jenna, who watches you with a frown. You give her a small smile, and she tentatively smiles back.

Eli walks past the two of you, making his way up the bleachers to Jenna. You nod at Olivia's words but your eyes are on the two, Eli and Jenna embrace in a hug, and Eli whispers something in Jenna's ear that makes her laugh. Olivia notices your gaze and follows it. She turns back to you and raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable.

You look away, feeling embarrassed for having been caught staring. "Are you going to the party tomorrow?" You ask, and Olivia nods. Before she could speak your excuse yourself, joining Eli and Jenna at the bleachers.

The three of you chat for a while, and when you turn back to look for Olivia, she's gone. "Hey, Jen. Enjoy the game?" Jenna grins. "Yeah, it was very intense." You smile in response, "Well, I had to keep you on your toes somehow."

Jen laughs, "You definitely did. I think I'm going to go grab a snack before heading home. Do you need a ride home?" You shake your head. "Yes, please." Jen smiles at you, "Okay. I'll be at the front entrance." She says and heads off to get a snack. Eli turns to you, smiling. "Did you see her ring?"

You furrow your eyebrows, not remembering as you weren't paying attention. "Uh, no?" Eli's smile widens, "Exactly! Oh my god, this is one of the best days of my life!" Eli claps his hands and jumps up from the bleacher. He looks around, noticing the stares they were getting from the students in the stands. He leans in and whispers, "Come on, let's get out of here."

They quickly make their way down the bleachers and into the locker room. You try to remember if Jenna actually wasn't wearing her ring, but you can't remember. You follow Eli out of the locker room, still wondering if you were wrong. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," Eli says, parting ways with you. You send him a nod, seeing Jenna walking toward the main entrance, you follow her, and the two of you walk toward her car.

Jenna gets to her car and you place your bags in the back before entering as well. Jenna puts on her seatbelt and looks at you. "Hungry?" she asks. You shrug, "Not really. I'll just eat something at home." Jenna starts the engine and pulls out of the parking spot. She turns to you and smiles. "You scared me when you fell."

You laugh and look away. "It was nothing, I'm fine. Just a way to get the ref to actually call it." Jenna nods and puts her attention back on the road. You glance at her hands on the steering wheel. She wasn't wearing her ring. Would she mind if you asked? You take a deep breath and decide not to bring it up. You turn your gaze back out the window, watching the scenery pass by. It's probably better to just let it go for now, especially since she was crying earlier.

"Are you feeling better?" You ask, turning your head to her. She quietly nods her head and you let out a relieved sigh. You both sit in silence, the only sound being the hum of the engine.

"I thought you didn't have a girlfriend." Jenna randomly says as her mind reminded herself of the girl hugging you after the game. You quickly look away, not wanting to make eye contact with her. You clear your throat, not sure how to respond. "It's complicated," you finally say. "Well-- it's not. She likes me but I don't like her. Remember what I said when we were out for lunch?"

Jenna looks back at the road in front of her, feeling a little embarrassed. She nods silently before clearing her throat. "Yeah, I remember," she says softly. She takes a deep breath and continues to drive, her mind racing with thoughts. Some of them are about you and the others are about Jacob.

It was obvious she wasn't happy in her marriage, but she was too afraid to take the next step and leave. She knew it would be hard and she wasn't sure if she was up to the challenge. She was also thinking about what Emma said. She's an adult. She can make her own choices. Plus, she seems respectful. Respectful? You were more than respectful, she thought. You were selfless and more mature than the adults she knew in her life.

Yes, it might have taken two weeks but at least you apologized. You didn't exactly do anything wrong, it was just a lack of thinking and communication. And the way you were ready to prioritize her over your game, her husband couldn't relate. You showed that you can put other people's needs before your own. That you can be considerate and thoughtful. It's a good sign that you're growing up and learning to think of others.

When she arrived at a red light her eyes looked at you. Your head turned toward the window. She shamelessly examined you, your jawline, your nose, your eyes, your hair. Everything about you was attractive. She felt a connection between the two of you like she had known you for a lifetime. She couldn't help but smile, her cheeks blushing from the warmth she felt. She wished the light wouldn't turn green, so she could keep admiring you.

The light changed its color unfortunately, she had butterflies in her stomach as she realized what she's been thinking about. She was infatuated by you, and badly. No more denying it.

taglist - @raven-ss @godsfavouritelesbiann @jennasslut @niqmandu @amburntfreeman @returnnofdamac @starry-night17 @get-the-fuck-outta-here @morganismspam23

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna x y/n

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lesbianpepsi · 9 months

Text

Fuck it I love you

pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: When paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam.

series masterlist

words: 2.320k

warnings: mean sam, light swearing, reader being down bad for our sammy, bad writing

authors note: alright my darlings the first chapter to the sam mini series as promised. the wonderful anon who requested this, my dear i am so sorry it took so long for me to get to this. although it's taken a while, i do hope you still enjoy this! feedback and comments are greatly appreciated:)

The wonders of college.

You get to meet new people, explore your sexuality, party like there’s no tomorrow, try new things and staying up till three in the morning crying over a piece of work that’s due that very morning that you decided to wait till the last minute to do only to instantly regret it, saying you’ll never do the same mistake next time but knowing deep down inside you will.

And of course the trials and tribulations of group projects. Something everyone loathed, and if anyone said otherwise they’re lying.

You have never been a fan of group projects; so when your professor announced that you’ll be doing a pair project you couldn’t tell if you wanted to slap him or cry. Probably both. The absolute worst thing about projects that involve more than one party member is awkwardly asking a stranger if they’re willing to work with you.

That’s why when you heard that familiar sweet voice speak to you, you couldn’t help but smile.

“You cool with doing this together?” Tara Carpenter asked you with a nervous smile.

You and Tara aren’t exactly friends, more like acquaintances; if one missed a presentation the other would give them their notes to copy off of, saving a seat next to each other, saying hello if you ever see each other around campus.

It isn’t the fact you don’t want to be friends with Tara, she seems like a really kind woman but she’s quite distant and quiet. You can’t judge her or shame her for it since you’re shy, awkward and always in a state of anxiety.

Maybe this would be the push to make you and Tara become friends.

You smile at the brunette with an appreciative gleam in your eyes. “Please. I was already planning a speech on why the professor should allow me to do this alone.” Tara laughs, covering her mouth with her hand as the corner of her eyes crinkled with delight.

“Lucky for me then.” Tara stays silent for a few moments before she added. “Do you wanna just get the whole awkward phone exchange now?”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you dug out your phone from the pocket of your hoodie, unlocking it and passing it over to her. Tara stares between and your phone almost bewildered with the fact you just passed your phone over to her without hesitation, rather than just saying your number.

She slowly takes your phone and adds her phone number into your contacts texting herself before passing it back to you. You smiled at her as you pocketed your phone back into its original space of your pocket.

___________

A few days have passed ever since you and Tara exchanged phone numbers but no plans had been made on when you two should start. You refused to leave this till the last second like you’ve done so many times before, swallowing your nerves you unlock your phone and send Tara a message.

Me (11:32am): hey tara it’s y/n from class, i was wondering what day we can meet to start our project. i was thinking we could meet in the library whenever you can :)

Instantly you shut your phone off after the message is delivered; there always has been something so weirdly intimidating about messaging someone you don’t really know. Deciding to distract yourself you go make yourself a sandwich for lunch, leaving your phone in your room.

After two episodes of New Girl and a delicious sandwich had been eaten you returned to your room in search of your phone. Flopping down on your bed you grab your phone and see Tara has messaged you back.

Tara (12:15pm): hi y/n:) if you’re free we can meet today to get started on our project? the only issue is that i can’t come to the library

Me (12:23pm): im more than good with today!! :D

Me (12:23pm): do you wanna come over to my apartment then??

Tara (12:24pm): actually is it alright if you come over to my apartment, around half two?

Me (12:24pm): yeah idm, just as long as we start it lol. where do you live?

Tara (12:28pm): the apartment complex near Blackmore, apartment number 56

Me (12:28pm): okie dokie, see you soon :D

Tara (12:29pm): 😊👍

You grinned to yourself slightly proud you’ve decided to be smart and start this project early. You just hoped the actual planning of the project would go just as smoothly.

___________

At two you decided to leave your apartment, wearing a simple white shirt along with some mom jeans. Not even ten minutes into your walk it began pouring down with rain, leaving you sprinting towards the complex as your heavy backpack hit your bag with every step.

Slamming the double door entrance to the apartment complex open, you instantly gasp for breath as water drips off of every part of you.

How fucking typical.

You pull out your phone and with wet fingers you send Tara a quick message before slowly starting to walk up the stairs.

By the second floor you started to get tired, by the third you began wondering why the fuck there isn’t an elevator in this place, by the fourth you’re questioning your life choices and by the time you arrive on the fifth floor you’re breathing like a life long smoker who just ran towards the store after noticing they’re out of cigarettes.

Like a zombie you walk over to the apartment door with the number ‘56’ on it, sluggishly you raise your hand and knock on the door two times.

After a painstakingly long time a woman answers the door, and you’re pretty sure your heart explodes at the sight of her.

She’s got olive skin that looks so irresistibly smooth, dark brown eyes that glared at you, she’s around the same height of you if not maybe a bit taller. She’s leaning against the door frame as she’s only opened the door a small amount so her figure could be shown.

Her lips are pulled in a tight straight line as her arms crossed over her stomach, the tight grey vest top she’s wearing showing off her impressive biceps. She’s glaring at you with her cold eyes as she glowers down at you.

“Who are you?” She asks in a voice that is ever so raspy, her eyes gazing up and down your body. Your ears burn scarlet red at her eyes checking you out as you stare at her in awe. “I’m, uhm, Tara’s project partner. Y/n L/n.” You stutter out as you can feel your heart beating erratically in your chest.

If this isn't gay panic you don’t know what is.

“Why are you so wet?” She questions with judging eyes.

‘Cause of you

“It started raining after I left my apartment and I didn’t bring a coat.” You explained with a nervous smile as you locked eyes with the woman’s.

She hummed as she turned to look behind her, after a few seconds the door opened wider and Tara appeared next to the woman, the height difference between the two almost making you laugh.

Tara smiled a small smile to you before it faded and changed into shocked one. “You’re soaked.” She states in a matter of fact way. You laugh nervously as you nod your head, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “Started raining on the way here.”

She frowned concerned as she took a step back, allowing you to enter, while the older woman still stayed in the doorway, glaring daggers at you. You swallowed nervously as Tara glared at the woman. “Sam, she's fine, don't be a bitch.”

Sam

Sam stares at you for a while before she reluctantly leaves the doorway and back into the apartment, you smile at Sam’s behaviour as you turn to look at Tara.

“Sorry about her, she's just really protective over me.” Tara apologises with a smile as you enter the apartment, closing the door behind you.

As you get a good view of the apartment you notice two other people talking to Sam, you've seen them around Blackmore.

The three of them are glaring at you as they whisper among each other. When they notice you’re looking at them they silence, all silently staring back at you.

Without thinking, you wave your hand at them as you smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you two before around campus.”

Tara doesn’t allow you to say more as her slender fingers wrap around your wrist as she drags you towards the dining table, your eyes remained on her beautiful sister Sam.

“I'll get you a towel, you prepare.” Tara tells you with a smile before taking off. You nod your head as you do as she said, take off your backpack and take out everything from inside it and place it onto the table.

Tara thankfully returns a few minutes later with a towel and a dry hoodie, she passes them over to you.

“You can borrow the hoodie if you want since your shirt is more than less see through.” She says with an amused laugh, you look down at blush at the fact it’s quite obvious you’re wearing a black bra.

“Thank you.” You tell her with an embarrassed laugh as you shamelessly take off your shirt and throw it into your bag before putting on the hoodie. It's warm and slightly too big for you, but you don’t mind it.

Grabbing the towel you place it under you, making sure you wouldn’t utterly soak the chair from the rain on your pants.

She gives a smile before she begins talking about her plans on what you two could do, stretching to reach the notebook full of notes you had brought with you.

You tried listening to Tara, you truly did, but not even five minutes after Tara had begun talking Sam had entered the kitchen to make a drink.

Suddenly every word Tara uttered it went into one ear and flew right through the other.

Her back faced you as she grabbed the glass from the top cabinet, not even having to go on the tip of her toes to reach it, something the shorter Carpenter would definitely have to do.

You smiled without noticing the longer you gazed at the gorgeous woman as she carried on making her drink.

“Y/n.”

You snapped your head back at Tara who had her eyebrows raised. “Did you listen to anything I said?”

Sam turned to look at the both of you as she leaned against the counter, sipping her drink. Her eyes focused on you as she drank at a slow pace.

You smiled nervously at her to which Sam only scowled back at you.

“Yeah, uhm, work and stuff right?” You waffled with a smile, Tara simply sighed as she shook her head. She went to say something but got interrupted by her older sister.

“Is that my hoodie?” Your head whips back towards Sam’s direction, Sam’s eyes focused on you. You blushed as you noticed Tara and let you borrow McHottie’s Sam's hoodie, not hers.

Your fingers toyed with the bottom of the hoodie nervously, before you could reply with utter gibberish Tara answered over you. “I let her borrow it since she was completely soaked.” She explained with a brief tight smile.

Sam hummed as she dropped the glass onto the counter. “But why give my hoodie to her? Why not yours?”

“Because It was closest to me, Sam. Jesus she isn’t going to do anything so calm down.” Tara defended you in an annoyed tone now, her eyes glaring at Sam as she leaned on her hand. “And tell Chad and Mindy to cut it out with the staring.”

“I can give it back if you’d like?” You gingerly asked. Both of the girl’s heads snapped towards you at your words.

“You don’t have to-” Tara started before Sam interrupted her speedily

“Yes. Give it back.” She demanded, pushing herself off the counter as she advanced towards you. Without hesitation you ripped the hoodie off of you, pulling it over your head quickly as your shirt rolled up with it.

You smiled sweetly at her as you passed her the hoodie with your right hand, your left hand not so subtly pulling down your shirt. Her fingers grazed over your knuckles as she retrieved the jumper from your hand, her eyes ogling at your shirt momentarily.

Her eyes connected with yours again as she pulled the hoodie to her side, she glowered over you as you looked up at her with a nervous smile.

She’s so fucking pretty, oh my fucking-

“Don’t give my stuff out again, Tara.” Sam told her sister as her eyes stayed glued to yours, “Sure, whatever, will you just leave now?” Tara says with annoyance clear in her tone, Sam stared at you for a few more seconds before she fulfilled her sister’s wish by leaving the kitchen silently.

Your eyes followed her leaving until she was out of your sight. Your eyes landed on the glaring twins to which you smiled awkwardly at them before you returned your attention back to Tara.

The shorter girl huffed as she flicked through a few pages of a notebook. “Sorry about her, she’s just really protective over me.” She apologised again.

You smiled dreamily at her as you thought more of the older sister. “You don’t have to apologise, it’s actually kinda sweet.”

Tara gives you a funny look as she snorts a laugh, her fingers finally stopping as she lands on the particular page she was looking for. “You must be delusional if you think Sam is sweet.”

Guess I’m delusional then, you thought with a smile as your eyes gazed over the half full glass Sam had left in the kitchen.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #chad meeks #mindy meeks #fluff #angst #my fanfic #scream #scream six

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 4 months

Text

All Falls Down - Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who likes, commented and reblogged part 1. I'm happy you guys like it.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

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Four months… four fucking months

That was the only thing going through Kiyana’s mind the next morning as she laid in bed. Four Months. He had thrown away 23 years for four months. Sighing, she sat up and grabbed her phone checking for messages, rolling her eyes at the 27 text messages from Josh. With each message she could tell that he was drunk.

Getting out of bed, she carefully cleaned up the glass from the broken picture framed, then groaned when she saw the hole in the wall from the alarm clock she threw. Add that to her list of things to do today.

After getting dressed in one of Josh’s shirts and some gray sweatpants, she walked downstairs and into the living room, rolling her eyes at Josh’s passed out body on the couch, a half drunk bottle of Hennessy on the floor by his side. “Pathetic” she muttered as she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, opening up her Macbook to search for a good divorce lawyer.

After searching and saving some numbers Josh shuffled into the kitchen and sat down in the chair next to her. She said nothing to him as he peered into her laptop.

“Divorce attorneys? Key, come on. You being serious right now?” Kiyana looked at him like he had three heads. This man really done lost his mind.

“What part of you cheated do you not understand? It’s not like before when you missed Kaiden’s second birthday or our wedding anniversary. You stepped out on our marriage during one of the most vulnerable times of my life. I do not want to talk to you. I do not want to even be in the same room as you, but you just don’t seem to get that.”

“Baby-”

“Just stop. Please.” She sighed, getting up from the table and trying to walk out of the kitchen but he stopped her by grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him.

“I want to fix this Kiyana.” She shook her head,

“There’s no fixing this Josh.” She said softly, pulling her arm out of his grip and walking out of the kitchen

After getting her kids back from Talisua’s house, Kiyana tried to be cordial and tried to pretend like everything was normal for the sake of her kids but everytime Josh came near her she wanted to smack him in his face.

So for the rest of the day, she steered clear of him. Everytime he came into a room that she was in she immediately left it. She couldn’t escape him while making dinner though, and he knew that. She groaned quietly when he strolled into the kitchen and sat at the island counter with their oldest son Kamari who was six who was playing with his action figures.

Josh had tried to talk to Kiyana only stopping when she sent a deadly glare his way. When Kamari asked why she was ignoring his daddy she had come up with some lame excuse that she and Josh were playing the quiet game.

Later that night after putting Kamari and Kaiden to bed, Kiyana was sitting on her bed, rocking Kairo to sleep after giving him a bottle when Josh knocked softly on the bedroom door. “I have an early flight tomorrow, Key. I already said bye to Kamari and Kaiden.” He said, knocking softly again. “Please I just wanna see Kairo.. And you” She rolled her eyes and moved off the bed to open the door for him.

She said nothing as she stepped to the side to let him enter the room. She was tempted to knock him upside the head when he walked past her but she refrained herself.

“Thank you.” He whispered, taking Kairo out of her hands. “I’m only doin’ two house shows this weekend so i’ll be home after Raw on Monday.” He let out a frustrated sigh when she ignored him. “Is this how it’s gon’ be Key? You ignoring me?”

“Yes, until I can find a place of my own.” That stopped him in his tracks. He made sure Kairo was sleeping before he placed him down in his bassinet and walked over to Kiyana.

“Whatchu’ mean a place of your own? You movin’ out?” He gritted his teeth when she ignored him again. “So I make one mistake and you don’t even want to try to work things out?”

“One mistake that took you four months to confess. A mistake that if it was me, you wouldn’t of hesitated to file for a divorce, but since it’s you I’m suppose to just say fuck it and continue to be with you? No fuck that and fuck you!” She whispered/shouted. Mindful of Kairo.

“We don’t have to get a divorce Kiyana. We can go to therapy or counseling.” He tried to grab her hands but she pushed him away. “Key, we can talk it out like we always do.” She let out a sarcastic laugh.

“This doesn’t even compare to anything we’ve ever been through. For twenty-three years I stood by your side.” She seethed, pointing a finger at him. “When you quit your job and went to Houston with Eddie, I followed you so that you could train and we could still be together and when you hurt your knee before you got signed and needed surgery, I got a second job just so you could pay for the surgery. I had two jobs and was in the middle of nursing school but I did it for you.”

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation.

“And the worse part.” She let out a watery laugh, wiped the tears from her face “The last four months of my pregnancy were horrible, you know what I was going through- from losing my father to being hospitalized two weeks before Kairo was born and you still went and had an affair.”

Josh could only stand there and stare at her. He knows he fucked up and he wishes he could go back in time to not fall into temptation.

Just hearing how much pain and heartbreak he caused he made him break down. He pulled her into his arms, and held on to her tightly. He just kept repeating how sorry he was. It was all he could say.

She pushed him away from her and walked over to the bed, getting in it, she turned the lamp on the side table off before laying down. “Shut the door behind you.”

He stood there for a while, before sighing “I love you Kiyana.” He said before walking out of the room.

whew, i'm breaking my own heart with this series. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso angst #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #wwe x fem reader #wwe x reader #wwe x oc #wwe x you #wwe x y/n #black reader #black writers

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thisismeracing · 6 months

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King of my heart | MS47 | part. 18

Pairing: mick schumacher x hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff, angsty, mentions of anxiety and break up, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 3.3k

part. 17 | series masterlist | part 19 | taglist

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

A/n: Thank you so so much for all the love and support! I see you, and I appreciate you! *mwah* I hope you guys like this chapter, I may have shed some tears while writing it hehe I'll release the next one TOMORROW so you better get readyyy!

When Yn knocked at Lewis’ door he wasn’t expecting to see her with a running nose and teary eyes. In fact, he wasn’t expecting to see her. She was supposed to be at her apartment getting ahead with some work because she had dinner plans with Mick, that’s what the German had told Lewis earlier that day.

“Hey, bitsy, what happened?” the Brit asked, confusion and worry lacing his tone.

Yn could only crash into her brother’s frame, being engulfed in a tight hug and letting out some of the pain and anxiety she had been holding back. He knew how hard it was for her to let herself be vulnerable, which meant she reached her breaking point.

“I broke up with Mick,” she sobbed into his shirt, and Lewis took a step back to look into her eyes, holding her face between his hands.

“What did he do?”

And though Mick had come to be a close friend of his with the shared routine in the Mercedes team, Lewis wouldn’t think twice before distancing himself if he had done something to hurt his little sister. Mick knew it. Everyone knew it. That’s the reason he was so taken back the second he noticed the lingering touches and secret stares. It wouldn’t be hard taking sides, but it would certainly hurt doing so.

Yn shook her head, more tears doting her black skin, “Nothing, he did nothing wrong-” a hiccup passed between her lips. “Someone posted about me and Mason, and suddenly the whole internet is talking about the two, and me, and our personal lives and- Lew, they have pictures! There are pictures of me and Mason around the internet.”

Lewis closed the door behind her and guided his sister to his couch. Roscoe came running to her too and it wasn’t long before the three were cuddled in silence, the only sounds being Yn’s sniffs and sighs.

He knew not to pressure her too much, knowing that she needed some time to breathe before finally speaking about everything, or most things, that were going through her head. Lewis was worried about Mick too, but he would check on his friend later, for now, his sister was his priority and she needed him, all his love and attention.

It was an hour or so before the sniffs stopped and Lewis noticed that Yn had fallen asleep, she was probably tired from all the crying and stress she had been dealing with lately, and the outing of her past relationship with soccer player Mason Mount was the icing on the cake. Lewis peeled his body off of hers with caution not to disturb her peace and reached for his phone seeing tons of messages from a worried Mick asking if he knew something about Yn’s whereabouts. He quickly answered reassuring the German that she was safe and with him, and added for him to be patient with her. Yn loved Mick, it was a fact.

Lewis ordered from their favorite place and got some of her favorite clothes his for her to wear after a long and much-needed relaxing shower. He gave Roscoe his food, and while the dog ate everything eagerly, he opened Twitter and Instagram seeing how the internet was indeed going crazy about Yn, Mick, and Mason. It was crazy how people felt entitled to someone else’s personal life.

Assuming that Yn probably didn’t have the time and the energy to do something, Lew stepped onto his terrace, closing the door behind him and calling the family’s lawyer. He had no idea how those pictures ended up on the internet, or how his sister’s past relationship got exposed, but he was gonna make sure whoever did it would be held accountable for it. He wanted to call Mason too, to ask if he had any idea about anything, how he would handle it from his side, but that was too personal, that was something only Yn should do.

After the food arrived, and Yn showered, the siblings sat on the living room’s floor to eat, a ritual they used to share whenever they could since their early teen years. Yn nibbled on her food, not eating the way she would when her favorite was on the table, she felt a lump in her throat, it was like she was trying to swallow back her own heart and by doing so she couldn’t try and put anything else there. Lewis noticed and used the moment to try and make her open up a bit, and share her burden with him. And that she did. She poured her heart out, cried again, sobbed again, and confessed to him how stressed she was ever since everyone discovered she was his sister, to which she was quick to apologize too because that wasn’t a problem, but rather how people started treating her was the real issue. Yn loved being a Hamilton, loved sharing the same blood as Lewis, loved having him around as her best friend, loved to share her happy and sad days with him, but she hated how everyone seemed to compare them now, how Yn wasn’t Yn anymore but “Lewis Hamilton’s younger sister” or even “Mick Schumacher’s supposed girlfriend” and not in a contextual way, but rather derogatory, like trying to diminish her and who she was, to resume her to two men. And fair enough, she loved them, she loved them both so much, but she was her own person, she loved herself before loving them. And maybe, Yn thought, she just needed to get used to having her brother mentioned every time, just like her relationship with Mick, but adding Mason to it? Adding Mason to it was cruel.

She confided in her brother all the things that had been plaguing her mind, and Lewis listened attentively, catching a tear from her here and there with his thumb, and nodding attentively. He was a good listener. He was the best brother, Yn told him.

That night they watched TV until falling asleep on the couch with Roscoe by their feet. Something they used to do when they were kids and the days were so packed that they didn’t have much time together, Yn would sneak into his room, they would make a tent with Lewis’ comforter, and turn on the TV on the low volume so that their parents wouldn’t wake up, and they would watch Disney movies until both passed out. Life used to be easier at the time.

When Lewis had to start the hectic schedule for Silverstone weekend Yn went to her parents. She spent a week sleeping in her old bedroom, having every possible meal with her parents, and enjoying the hugs, kisses, and pampering from them. They couldn’t mend their heart back together, but while there it felt like they could glue it for some minutes. It would fall to pieces in the ground when she lay awake in bed at night, but when the sun shined through the windows and her dad woke her up so they could cook pancakes together while The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill played as background sound some of the pieces of her heart would flutter closer.

The second week was about to start when she got a call from Corinna. She cried when she heard the woman’s voice. The accent is so like Mick’s. The sweet and warm tone. Corinan asked Yn if she wanted to spend some time in Switzerland with her. It was a calm place, she wouldn’t be bothered by too many paparazzi, she could go off from social media, they would have tons of activities to do if she felt like it, and Gina would even fly there for the weekend. So Yn packed her bags, and by Monday afternoon she was in Switzerland.

Yn cried again when Corinna hugged her, told her how sorry she was for hurting Mick, and tried to explain everything, but the older woman just shook her head and hugged Yn together, assuring her that she wouldn’t judge, that she did not blame Yn. Life was complicated, but Corinna seemed to be sure that Yn and Mick would find a way out of the storm they were facing, and she made sure to tell Yn that. Without pressure, of course. In fact, they agreed on not talking a lot about Mick or her relationship, but it turned out that was a hard subject to avoid because Corinna made her feel safe and comfortable enough to want to talk, and everything at that house screamed his name. So much so, that Yn wandered around on her first night and ended up in his childhood bedroom, watching some of his trophies, posters, books, and toys. Yn fell asleep curled on his bed, hugging his pillow.

The coming days were good. Corinna distracted her the same way her parents would. Yn taught the German some of her vegan recipes, and Corinna seemed to like them. They would cook breakfast together, share tea by the garden, feed the horses, and solve crosswords while eating dinner.

After two weeks in Switzerland Yn went back to her apartment in London. She wasn’t exactly ready for the remainder of Mick at her home, yet she needed to work through whatever was plaguing her mind, she needed to recenter so that she could face him again. She knew the way they broke up wasn’t fair to him, knew that they would have to talk again eventually, either for closure or to get back together.

At the door, his slides were the first thing to greet her, then his smell that plagued the whole apartment. By her couch, there was one of Angie’s toys, in her room his shirt she used to sleep with, some of his clothes inside her closet, his toothbrush beside hers, his shampoo, little things that got there gradually. Some of them she still remembers the exact moment. The feeling of tranquility coming home with him and knowing his things were there too.

Yn kept everything intact: all his things inside her house. All the feelings inside her chest.

She went back to her routine, working, seeing her friends, trying to enjoy a bit of the privacy that was still left after she deactivated most of her socials. Except, now she wasn’t joining and cheering for her brother in person during the weekends, but rather watching everything from her couch. Sometimes, those weekends would be shared with Lewis’ friends and her friends as well, the ones that couldn’t make it to the GPs too.

When September Yn was ready for the launch of her winter collection. She was also ready to be in the same room as Mick, or so she thought, she had to be especially because her team had sent invitations for the whole Schumacher family and she had a feeling he wouldn’t miss it.

Sure enough there he was, and though they couldn’t exchange more than a longing stare and a friendly wave, Yn felt everything she kept tamed inside burst out in the open. She busied herself with the parade and all the little details that needed her attention, and because she was the main name tonight she wasn’t able to speak to everyone. Though, what would she say to the Schumachers? “Thank you for coming! And, Mick, I miss you, maybe I owe you an apology”, well maybe that’s exactly what she should have said, but the rush didn’t let her. Maybe that’s why Yn was surprised when everything was over and someone from the staff came with a bouquet of tulips.

It wasn’t anything new, she usually gets a ton of flowers during parades, and events in general, from fans to the crew she’s working with, but she never got tulips, and her heart skipped a beat, hands slightly trembling when she reached for it, and opened the envelope between the beautiful flowers.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a proper congratulations and hug. I’m really proud of you – today, and always. I’ll be here when you’re ready. - Your Mickey”

Yn knew exactly what ready meant.

And she also knew how meaningful it was of him to sign as her Mick. Not Mick Schumacher, or simply Mick, or anything, but “your Mick”. The version of him only she knew. A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks just when Lewis reached the door of her dressing room.

Yn looked at her brother silently, and he gave her one of his small smiles.

“You should text him,” the Brit suggests.

“How do you know I’m thinking about him?”

Lewis shrugs, draping his body on the blue couch, “You two went to see a field of tulips in Switzerland, right?” She nodded, and before she could joke about his memory Lewis added, “But that’s not how I know, he actually told me he would do it. Even asked me if I thought it was ok for him to show up.”

“Oh-” she utters. “I’m- I- I exposed him, put him in the spot. Mick is a super private guy, Lew, and I kind of blew everything up,” she sighs, knowing damn well she’s repeating the vent session they had back the other month.

“He told you he doesn’t care, didn’t he?” Lewis asks and Yn nods, biting her lips. “I think that’s proof enough that he’s ready to compromise if it means having you. That’s huge, Yn. He’s ready to give up part of his private life to stay with you, and not as in sacrificing himself and all this red flag thing, but as in: he thinks you’re more important. He loves you, can’t you see?”

“I’m still scared,” she confesses.

“Fuck being afraid, bitsy, do it anyways. If you let fear stop you, you’ll never fully live,” it’s his older brother's advice. “Besides,” Lewis adds, “You think he isn’t? He’s probably scared shit too, and that’s yet another reason why you should talk, dot it together because if you have one another the burden gets lighter – if there’s even one.”

She rolls her eyes, they’re full of tears ready to fall, and they do the second she smiles dropping her shoulders. Yn nods to Lewis, and when everything is packed and they’re walking on the parking lot to their respective cars parked side by side, her phone pings.

Lewis winks her way with a smile when she turns the screen to him. It’s Mick.

“Good luck, bitsy. I’ll be at home if you need me, and I’ll back you up on whatever you choose to do,” he takes off some of the weight from her shoulders.

Yn hugs him tight and whispers how much she loves him and how lucky she is to be a Hamilton. She listened to her heart and only her heart, trying to ignore whatever her mind wanted to rationalize, and whatever others would think, while she typed away on her phone.

After indirectly inviting him to dinner, she drives all the way to her apartment with a grin on her face and feeling all warm and fuzzy after feeling cold and sad for so long.

The second her doorbell rang, Yn stopped pacing around her living room and ran to the entrance, already feeling her hands shaking slightly.

“Hey,” Mick breathed with a small smile on his face when Yn showed up behind the wooden door. He was holding another bouquet, this time red carnations. Yn’s greetings got stuck in her throat. Mick looked just so good wearing blue jeans paired with a dark green hoodie. His eyes did not leave her, quite the contrary, he drank her in, blue orbs roaming around each small detail. For him, Yn looked just perfect.

“I-” Mick started to fill the silence after a minute, but before he could keep going Yn crashed into him, taking a deep breath and lacing her hands around his neck. He held her closer by the waist and inhaled her perfume, feeling his heart speed so fast it felt like he was racing around his favorite circuit.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. Sorry, I made you wait. Sorry-,” Yn whispered with a voice so small he could only hear because her face was between his neck and shoulder. He detached their bodies just enough to hold her by the jaw, eyes scanning the tears slowly descending her cheeks.

Mick shook his head, “I should have come after you before. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Yn sobbed, letting her forehead hit his solid chest, and trying to take deep breaths to control her own heart, “No, babe, you gave me my time, you gave me space, and I love you for that.”

It was his turn to let some tears fall. Mick was a smart guy, he knew how to be rational, but it did not mean that he knew how to control each emotion of his. Quite the opposite, from time to time he let his feelings lead the way. He can feel insecure and overthink just like any human being. The thing is, that while they were away, he took his time to work on it. Work on himself. Look in the mirror and understand he was doing the right thing by kicking the ball to her court. There was nothing he could do but wait. And waiting he did.

Now, looking into her eyes, he wonders why he waited so long, how he spent every day for over two months without her. But the second those three little words passed between her plump lips he knew it hadn’t been for nothing. Knew that life was gifting his patient.

“Can you find it in you to forgive me?” she asked, still glued to his body.

He chuckled, “Schatzi, there’s nothing to forgive. And even if there was, you know I would. I would do anything for you because I love you. I love you in every language, the ones I know and the ones I don’t. I love you like my best friend, my favorite person, my lover. I love you like I never did before.”

It was the first time she heard him say those three little words, and they hit her like a truck, rearranging every organ in her body, and making her heart grow ten times bigger. Making her flutter, and come down at the same time. But for the first time, she wasn’t worried about falling, he would be there to catch her. Or they would fall together. Always together. Either way, she chose him. She chose to give love a chance. To give herself a chance at happiness. And when his lips found hers after so long it felt like everything came together. It was sweet, and salty with their tears. It was soft, and hungry, demanding attention and trying to make up for the lost time. It was like a king coming back from war for his queen. Stating that he was more alive than ever. That he wouldn’t leave. That his promise to come back was true. Burning cheeks, sweaty palms, warm chest, tingly stomach, it was like meeting each other for the first time all over again.

When Yn’s hands sneaked under Mick’s hoodie, brushing over his bare skin, he smiled into the kiss, taking the seconds to breathe in some air.

“We still have to talk. I still have so much explaining to do,” Yn started.

“And you have to tell me about your time in Switzerland without me, mama said you rode the horses with G and even planted a new three.”

She grinned. A bright expression doting her whole face.

“I’ll do it over dinner. Come, the food is getting cold,” Yn laced their fingers bringing him inside, and Mick enjoyed the feeling of truly crossing the line of her heart. He knew that this time entering her house meant so much more. It meant a green card for entering her heart and staying. And he would do it.

They would make a home out of each other. What they were not yet aware of was that the home was already there. All they had to do was get inside.

And they had just done it.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: We're so close to reaching the ending, I'm getting emotional ugh!! I hope you guys liked this chapter, I opted to let some details out of the plate, so let me know if you want them (like their dinner conversation and all) and I'll see if I can write an extra <3 make sure to reblog this chapter if you like it. I'll be releasing the next one tomorrow, and all I want to say is to make sure your seatbelts are on. *mwah*

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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt2

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Part 1

I am posting this at almost 1am AND I have to get up early tomorrow to do work for class before the actual class haha I plan my time accordingly

I was going to make this chapter longer. I had an idea and I started to write it, but it just wasn't coming out like I wanted it to (bc I'm writing at 12am duh) so I'm gonna put that in another chapter

Warnings: mentions of torture, trauma, hints of paranoia, hints of self-deprecation

Word Count: 1,390

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

After a grueling battle yesterday, you chose to give everyone a day off. It gave them time to rest aching muscles, repair and sharpen weapons, relax. It gave you a chance to bathe.

You didn't neglect your hygiene, but most of the time, once camp was set up, the sun would be dipping below the horizon. On those days, you'd run into the water, scrub the gunk out of your hair and get out, back to the safety of company before the first stars faded in. Now that you had the chance, you weren't going to squander it.

Once you were certain you were alone - an uncomfortable thought soothed only by the sun filtering in through the canopy above - you stripped down and waded into the water. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. You wasted no time scraping the dirt and blood off your skin.

Once you cleaned your body within an inch of its life, you ducked your head under the water and scrubbed at your hair and scalp. It was disgusting - you could only imagine the smell your companions had put up with this last week. You were just so happy you were clean. Your hair was smooth as water soaked it through, no knots or clumps of blood to be found. As you squeezed out the excess water, you caught your reflection between the ripples. In moments where it stilled enough, you could see the scar on your neck. It was still deep and prominent, but it was beginning to heal. It'd never healed before.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You nearly shrieked when you turned, sinking into the water up to your neck for protection. Astarion chuckled at your reaction.

"Would it kill you to stop sneaking up on me?"

"I was practically stomping like an ogre, dear, it's hardly my fault you weren't paying attention." You shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. It was your fault you let your guard down. In the day, you were safe from (most) vampires, but there were any number of things ready to attack at any moment. "Mind if I join you?"

You shake your head, but you're already wading to shore to grab your clothes. "No, go ahead. I'm done."

"Leaving already?" You nod, not making eye contact. "I won't look, darling, if that's what's got you so flustered."

You pause mid reach for your shirt as he removes his, placing it haphazardly on a rock by the water's edge. His pants came next and you looked away until you heard the water sloshing around him.

"Though, I don't mind if you look," he teased, sparing one last glance over his shoulder before he got to work cleaning himself.

Gods, if he could hear the way your heart raced... You peek over, just a glance, before you look back at your clothes. But then you're looking again.

An intricate scar of circles, lines, and curved symbols marred his back. You feel your throat close just looking at it. You'd been forced to watch spawn and slaves alike punished by the cracking of a whip. Forced to keep your eyes forward by a hand on your jaw as the leather snapped and tore into their skin. This was worse. This was deliberate.

"Did..." You swallow, forcing your voice not to crack with the sorrow you felt for him. "Did your master do this?"

He hummed, continuing to wash his arms as though you'd asked him about the weather. The only hint it bothered him at all was the way his muscles tensed and the disdain in his voice. "Cazador," he spat. "He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas." His movements slowed to a stop. "He composed and carved that one over the course of a night. He made... a lot of revisions as he went."

You couldn't stop staring. Your mind kept replaying the torture you witnessed, but it replaced their cries with Astarion's voice. You hated to be so lucky. To be so fortunate that your master wanted you to look absolutely perfect and unmarked. You never received physical punishment. You were too precious.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, shakily. "If I could, I'd..." What? Remove the markings forever? Take away his pain and suffering? Go back and change everything so he never had to be a puppet? You couldn't do anything. You can't help. You can't remove that pain. All you can do is witness the aftermath.

He sighed and ducked his head so he could wash his hair. Drops of water slid down his back, only drawing your eyes in further. “It won’t matter when we get to Baldur’s Gate. I’m going to kill that bastard for everything he did to me.”

You know you should leave. Put on your clothes and slink away. But… being around Astarion isn’t entirely unpleasant. You’re still a little scared of him - of what he could do, but you trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t do those things. He probably understood your plight better than anyone else.

So, you slide down into the water until you’re resting on your knees in the silt. It doesn’t quite cover your neck unless you duck deeper in. You want to hide the scar, the damn mark showing everyone else who - or rather, what you belonged to. But it felt wrong to try hiding it when Astarion was fully showing you his.

“I never asked who your master was.” He turns his head slightly, eyes just barely catching sight of you. He did promise he wouldn’t look, after all. “Where she…” He waved a hand noncommittally and scowled. “Rules.”

Her eyes flash in your mind, wicked and burning. You almost flinch just thinking about them. When you speak her name, your voice trembles. “Kir Parthene. I… don’t remember where she lives. It’s been years since I’ve even been outside - I must have forgotten.”

He slowly turns, giving you time to tell him to turn back again, but you don’t. You watch him through a fog of memories. “How long were you enslaved?”

It’s harder to answer than you thought it would be. Time begins to blur when you can’t tell if it’s night or day, when everything is fuzzy and incoherent because you never had enough blood to think straight. Sometimes she’d feed and then leave you for days. Others, she never wanted to stop feeding - drinking from you morning and night before you ever got a chance to recover. You were a slave to her hunger - time never mattered.

“I was… 16 when I was taken.” You wrap your arms around yourself. Safe. “I don’t even remember home. My parents… I’m all alone.”

He’d never heard your voice so small before. You weren’t the most demanding leader, but you could still bark commands when things were getting rough. You even held yourself well in conversation, shutting down lopsided deals or uncomfortable topics with all the authority of a royal guard. It was easier, seeing you like this, to imagine your life in servitude. Meek and quiet.

“That’s not entirely true.” He kneeled in the silt a few feet from you, smirking. “You have us for as long as this adventure lasts, as long as we don’t transform into tentacled Mind Flayers.”

“And then after that?” He shifts uncomfortably at the question. “Everyone will go their separate ways, and when you do I’m a sitting duck. I’ll be captured again. Used again.”

You trail off, but the weight of your words sit heavy. You’ll never be free. You could help everyone else with their quests, help them free themselves from what ties them down, help them get stronger - but the same couldn’t be done for you. Without knowing where your master lives, there’s no way to seek her out and kill her, too.

The water is too cold now. The cool summer breeze only freezes you more. Astarion watches as you get up and slink back over to your clothes. He looks away before he can see anything you wouldn’t want him to. In no time at all, your clothes are back on and you’ve pulled on your boots. But before you walk away, you turn to him. Your eyes are so sad.

“Thank you. For… showing me.” He says nothing. So you head back to camp. Alone.

---

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itsgodepi · 6 months

Text

If I lose my mind | Ch. 6

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.8k Also on AO3

It is stupid really, the little things you do to reassure yourself that this is not the reality. You found an article the second or third day in France whose headline read something like How to tell if you’re dreaming: 5 steps (with pictures) —yes, it’s from wikiHow, so what? Your mind is playing tricks on you so you won’t believe the important sources—, and you have been following it like a ritual ever since.

For example, it says to always check your environment for distortions, that appearances can be deceiving in the dream world. And although it talks about your house being different from what you remember or objects looking strange, being in a completely different country from where to sleep in seems to fit that description just fine.

Another step had been to test your strength and abilities, if you can fly or lift extremely heavy objects, you are clearly not awake. You are not ready to admit the number of times you have tried jumping off the hotel bed and levitating without success, but you would say driving a Formula One car is quite a remarkable skill to learn overnight.

The one stage you had not been able to get past had been to consider other people around you and analyze whether their presence made sense or not. From the beginning you have been surrounded by strangers, Nick and what he calls the team, journalists and other drivers. This combined with the fact that you have not been able to contact your family or friends yet, has made this step the trickiest one to overcome, nobody during these past few days being able to really tip you off.

That is until you saw the fucking Fernado Alonso strolling into the drivers’ briefing like it was nobody’s business.

You had never been too interested in Formula One, the races and everything surrounding the sport honestly bored you, but that was one thing and not recognizing Fernando Alonso when he is literally sitting in front of you was a completely different one. Your father would kill you if that had been the case, how could you not recognize the Spanish driver who you had spent countless afternoons seeing your dad and uncles cheering for when you were a child? It made no sense. So, although he now wore a different team’s shirt —the characteristic blue clothes you remember, nowhere to be seen— and had shorter hair, you were 100% sure of who he was.

The man’s presence alone managing to convince you once and for all that this was not real.

That is why, now that you are back in the paddock, jumpsuit zipped almost all the way up and a smile on your lips for the camera, you feel somewhat calm. You have made it through a third practice and the qualifying session in one piece, all ready and prepared to fulfill your media duties in front of more strangers like this is an everyday thing. No recollection of the hours you’ve been seated in that deathtrap of a car fighting for P15, not a single memory of the other car whose lap you supposedly impeded, no nothing.

It is not a good result, you are aware of that, but you are hoping to win a few positions in the race tomorrow and maybe the first points of your career. Well, that is what you are advised to tell the interviewers at least, how the car is working great under these conditions or something like that. You cannot remember half of the script at this point, but you had done well enough when you were under the spotlight.

Thankfully, Saturday’s activities have finally come to an end, only a couple social media videos left to record and you will be on your way back to the hotel in no time. The garage is almost empty at this hour, a few mechanics hanging around, taking a last look at the car and organizing everything they need for tomorrow’s race. Nothing compared to the first time you stepped inside building.

The media coordinator is running late, the whole filming crew is. They were supposed to be in the garage before you even finished the media conference, taking some shots of the car and speeding off the process so you could have some rest before tomorrow’s race. And yet, here you are, trying your best not to doze off in one of those uncomfortable highchairs near the screens while Nick tries to sort things out. He had instantly gone in her search when you arrived, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the garage.

It is not like more than ten minutes have passed really, but the jumpsuit and fitted clothes you wear underneath are killing you. You should have changed without permission, get onto some nice clean clothes before they came back. What is the worst that can happen? A person made up by your imagination is going to come and scold you?

“Oh, you’re still here!” a soft voice wakes you up from your thoughts, your eyes tiredly trailing through the garage to see where it is coming from.

Must be someone from the team coming to see what the mechanics are doing, the men still fixing things here and there when half of the pack has already gone back home to rest for the biggest even of the weekend. You would feel bad for them were they not literal products of your imagination.

However, after fighting with your sleepy brain for a bit, you realize that you recognize that voice, your gaze searching with renewed energy for the man in question. What is Charles doing here?

You find the driver walking into the garage through the pitlane’s door, his red jumpsuit still hanging from his hips and his hair a mess. His tired smile is contagious, your own coming to play on your lips as he nears your seat. You try to pick up the things you had hazardously thrown in the chair next to yours, thinking he might want to take a seat after the long round of interviews he must gone through, but you soon understand he has a very different idea in his mind.

Before you can even react or greet him with more than a simple “Hi”, the man is pulling you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as his face comes to hide on the crook of your neck. Charles lets his full weight rest on your body, your highchair giving him the perfect opportunity to do so as he stands between your legs, like he cannot keep himself upright any longer. “Haven’t seen you all day...” Charles sighs into your shoulder, squeezing your body tighter as if he was letting go of all the accumulated stress, slowly relaxing his hold after a few seconds.

Confusion paints your features, your arms awkwardly resting over his shoulders while you try to figure out what the hell is he doing.

It is strange, the sense of familiarity that his touch brings you, the way he molds himself to your body as his thumbs draws circles on your lower back making you feel so at peace. You try to push all those feelings down with a frown, patting him on the back and trying to squirm out of his hold.

The man seems to not be ready to let go off you though, simply relaxing himself in your arms like this is not literally the third time you have ever seen each other. Charles has been nice to you in the few encounters you have had and all, but that does not make this sudden invasion of your personal space any less weird. And it is not like you are alone either, the mechanics moving around the two of you like this is no big deal, not a second glance at the situation you got yourself into.

“Com'è andata la giornata?” Charles whispers after a while, voice muffled by the collar of your top since he refuses to break the hug.

What did he say? Did he just... speak in a whole different language? It is bad enough that you are dreaming in English..., this is getting ridiculous. Are you just going crazy in your sleep or something?

“Hm?” you confusedly answer, both to gain some more time to make sense of what he asked about and to leave room for him to repeat the question. Maybe you didn’t hear him right? Yeah, that must be it.

Charles chuckles onto your skin “Troppo stanca per rispondere?”, the soft graze of his breath over your skin making you shiver, hairs standing on end.

What is he doing? Treating you like you are best friends or something when you are not even acquaintances in the first place, and while he keeps talking to you in a language you do not understand, mind you.

The man finally puts some space between the two of you after the total lack of response, his face emerging from your neck so you can be face to face. Nonetheless, his hands still come to claim a place on each side of you, leaning into your personal space without a care in the world around you. You can’t even get off the chair because he is in the way!

There is a silly smile playing on his lips while all this thoughts bubble in your mind, his head tilting to the side as he continues “Or have you already given up on Monza?”

“I guess I have” you manage to respond after the initial shock, the high-pitched tone of your voice betraying your nerves and giving away just how unsure you are of what exactly he is talking about. You make a mental note to look up what this Monza thing means in case he brings it up at some point, or maybe you should simply run away from him if he is going to pulls something like this again.

“It was too soon anyway,” Charles shakes his head, regarding you with such a soft look that you almost forget he is a stranger, his actions confusing you even further “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, there’s no rush... We can practice over the break, just study a bit more and we’ll see how it goes”

And since you are completely lost in the conversation, you decide to give a simple “Okay” as your response.

You have mixed feelings about the interaction, the bittersweet taste it left behind coming to hunt you when you spot him the next day. Of course you were going to see him, he is a driver and today is race day, but that does not make it any better. You have felt so alone this past week, missing your loved ones locked away within the four walls of the hotel room, that although his proximity had been completely unwarranted and unwanted when he first hugged you, something inside you started missing his warmth as soon as he stepped away.

Images of yours and Charles conversation keep playing over and over in your mind as you walk through the rows of Formula One cars, back into your race suit while you get through the mass of mechanics and cameras filling the road. The car is already formed up on the grid —yes, you have incorporated some F1 concepts into your vocabulary after all the research—, the prerace activities having finished a while ago and the worse part of the day looming over you.

Charles is standing at the front, in that area separated from the rest of the road by white barriers, talking with a taller man that you do not remember ever seeing before. The big logo on his chest gives you some clues though, the two bulls facing each other painted on his race suit giving away which team he drives for. A Red Bull driver.

It is nice to finally understand the whole color coordination stuff between the car and your clothes, courtesy of the hours you have spent behind the screen researching about the sport. There are ten teams with two drivers competing for each one of them, some of their logos easily recognizable while others —like the one engraved on your shirt for example— are impossible to remember. Don’t know half the driver’s names yet still, only had time to search for mister Carlos Sainz’s whole biography after what happened in the drivers briefing. He is also Spanish, a fact that heavily surprises you, either your mind has made this person up or your father talked about him enough that his presence in the sport has stuck in your subconscious.

You decide not to walk towards the two men when you enter the area, not because of what transpired yesterday between you and Charles or out of shyness, but due to the strange behavior he has been exhibiting since this morning. Not only him, but all the other drivers you had previously met as well. While they all had been overly familiar and playful with you during Saturday’s meeting, they seemed to be avoiding you throughout both the prerace activities and now the ceremony.

Everyone except for Lewis.

When you had come out onto the track for the first time that day, made to walk alongside your teammate, Mick, to one of the vintage cars that would be taking you on a lap around the circuit, you had felt fairly uncomfortable. Mick had not uttered a single word to you outside of the meetings and interviews, only ever greeting you when there were cameras around and even then, it was easy to see how forced it was. It is not like Mick was being hostile or rude towards you, his comments about you always polite and short, it felt more like he was indifferent. The driver preferred to keep you at an arm's length if possible. However, even that indifference felt like a slap to the face when you were surrounded by strangers pushing cameras into your space.

So, although Lewis had his own army of microphones and videographers at his back when he came over to greet you, in your eyes the man looked like your own personal saviour.

Who could blame you for the way you gravitated towards him later on in the private area? Away from your teammate and those other drivers that had not dared to send more than a tight smile your way when your eyes accidentally met. On the other hand, Lewis had always been welcoming, a source of calmness that managed to make you forget about everything happening around you even if just for a second.

“I wanted to stay back for a few days, go to a show in Cannes, but then I’d have to fly straight to Hungary...” Lewis complains, arms crossed over his chest as he walks you to your designated spots on the road

“I can’t wait to leave, honestly” you confess with a chuckle, surprising yourself with the way you are treating the matter of flying from one country to another every week with such apparent normalcy. Well, amid all this chaos, with twenty Formula one cars at your backs and thousands of people watching from the grandstands, taking a flight is one of the most normal things you have experienced so far.

Lewis lips stretch into a big smile at your outburst of sincerity, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides “I see you didn’t like France at all”

“It’s not that...” you try to justify yourself; it is not like you had seen much of the country in this past week either, your schedule tight enough as it is to try and also squeeze some sightseeing in there.

Would Nick have allowed it anyway? The man had kept you on a short leash since day one, only granting you some alone time at night and even then, he knew exactly where to find you. The happiness with which Lewis recounts his trips around France and recommends a few places to visit before you leave on Tuesday, makes you miss that newfound freedom you had experienced during your external practices in Spain, the taste of that amazing adult life they had been promising you since before you started the university.

Truly, not everything in this new stage of your life had been as incredible as they had portrayed it, those liberties came with harsh responsibilities that you were clearly not handling well. Are you seriously whining about not having time to walk through the beautiful streets of this French city when you would be incapable of travelling here on your own in the first place? You are only ‘here’ because you are living through the longest and weirdest dream you have ever had, this city does not exist, the floor you are standing on is not real and you have most probably made up all that information you have gathered in those sleepless nights.

And last, but clearly not least, the realization that for some reason overwhelms you the most and marks the rest of the ceremony: Lewis is not real either.

Next chapter

___

Author's note: it's so nice seeing you're enjoying the fic, I hope you liked this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for reading!!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you #f1 imagine

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 3: Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together?

You and Joel come up with a plan. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 2, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Some mild diet talk, no explicit mention of reader's weight or size (beyond she is smaller than Joel but my Joels are all giant, OK? Joel is like 6'5" Joel is a big big man, big big man). Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Sir, I can’t just… Well, I understand that you say that but…”

Amanda, the sophomore girl who worked the front desk of the English department offices, frowned, phone clutched against her head.

“I understand that,” she said again. “But she’s a special case, Professor…” She flinched and glanced up to see you coming in, looking relieved. “Sir? Give me just one second and I can check…” She pressed the hold button and lowered the receiver. “Professor, I am so so sorry, I know we’re not supposed to send unexpected calls or emails through to you but do you know a Joel Miller? He’s insisting he’s a friend of yours and…”

You raised your eyebrows before answering.

“Yeah, I know Joel. Go ahead and transfer him back to my office. And if he ever gives you a hard time again, tell him to fuck off.”

Amanda looked relieved and took Joel off hold as you went to the end of the hall and unlocked your door. You didn’t have to share an office like a few other people in your department. One of the perks, you imagined, of being a big name that got the university some attention. But you hadn’t done much with the space yet, the only thing on the wall a framed poster that the dean had waiting for you when you started there.

Your phone rang just as you set down your bag and you picked it up, tucking it against your shoulder.

“Yes, what do you want, I’m busy being very famous and important,” you said with a slight English accent.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize best selling authors were such a hot commodity,” Joel said. “Should I make an appointment?”

“Probably,” you replied. He snorted. “What’s up?”

“Did you know that you tried to put your number in my phone the other night?” Joel asked. “Note that I say ‘tried’ because what you actually did was put something in my notes that has four numbers and then seven symbols which, if you’re counting, ain’t even the right number of digits.”

You scoffed.

“You’re lucky I didn’t change your passcode or set an alarm for 4:30 in the morning,” you said. “Sounds like you got off easy.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I know,” you said, smiling a little to yourself. “So why were you looking for my number on a Monday morning?”

“Because I was looking for your number on a Sunday morning and ended up shit outta luck,” he replied. “Figured I could catch you at work. They got you all locked down over there, huh?”

“Trying to discourage random readers from contacting me here is all,” you said. “There was a problem with that at Brown right when the book first got popular. I don’t think it’d be as much of a problem now but still, administration thought it was smart. Speaking of which, don’t be a shit to my office aide.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said, ignoring your last comment. “Think you can put me on the list of people who are allowed to talk to you? And on the list of people who are allowed to bring you food?”

“Bring me food?” You frowned.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I could do that. Like… today. In an hour or so. If you’re not shaping young minds or whatever.”

“Don’t you have work?” You laughed.

“New job starts tomorrow,” he said. “And I don’t exactly have a lot of time without Sarah where I’m not at work.”

“And you want to see me?”

“No, I figured I’d just call and annoy your secretary as a new hobby…”

“Office aide.”

“You free for lunch or not, Goldie?” He said, exasperated. You resisted the urge to laugh.

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, I’m free. I have a class gap from 11:30 to 2. I can meet you somewhere…”

“I’ll just come to you,” he said. “Assuming that a fancy schmancy professor will still eat tamale lady tamales…”

“OK you could have opened with tamale lady tamales,” you said. “Buried the lead there, Miller.”

Joel laughed.

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me where your office is,” he said. “Then I’ll have a way to contact you that isn’t fucking gibberish. See you in two hours.”

You put his number into your phone and texted him. He responded with a screenshot of your note with the message literally none of those numbers are right which made you laugh.

It was hard to focus as you taught your next class, checking your watch every few minutes to see just how much time had passed. You were keyed up, stomach tight, and you tried to talk yourself down as you walked half way across campus back to your office.

It was Joel. Just Joel. Sure, before Friday, you hadn’t seen or talked to him in years but falling back into friendship with him had felt so easy so far. He was safe and comfortable. You’d spent every day with Joel once upon a time.

But that felt so long ago now. You were different people then. Joel was a jock who pretty much just hung out with you and tried to speed run his way through every hot girl in school. You were a geek who spent her entire life either trailing along behind Joel or with her nose in a book. A lot had changed in the last decade and a half. Joel had a kid. You’d gotten married and divorced. Well, almost divorced. Nothing was finalized yet but you’d stopped wearing your wedding band when you moved to Texas even though it still sat on the ring stand on your bedside table.

After Friday and Saturday, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to see Joel again. You hadn’t gotten his number and you remembered nothing of trying to put your number in his phone while you were drunk. You weren’t sure if it was going to be a fluke, just a blip on the radar of your lives that had gone on totally disconnected paths for more than a decade, or if this was something that would continue.

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Losing him the first time had hurt. It might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to you, even worse than losing your mother, than watching your sister sister fall apart in slow motion over the last decade, than your father entirely. Was it something you could survive again? Was it something you’d need to dig back up and talk through with Joel now that you were speaking again? If that was what he needed, was that something you could handle doing? You weren’t sure about any of it.

But you were already starting to think that you’d go along with anything Joel wanted as long as you got to keep him around this time, just like high school. He’d been the sun and you’d been caught in the gravity of him. You wondered if you’d ever escaped it at all.

You straightened up your office a bit, not that you’d had much time for things to get too messy. Most things were submitted virtually now, though you insisted on poetry being printed to make sure formatting was maintained, and most of your personal notes were contained to planners and notebooks that were in orderly piles on your desk. You were absently checking your email when there was a knock on the frame of your door and you looked up to see Joel standing there, a foil covered plate in one hand, two glass bottles of Dr. Pepper in the other.

“Oh my God, is that Dublin Dr. Pepper?” You gaped at him.

“Technically no,” he said, coming in and setting a bottle down in front of you. “Stopped making it at the Dublin plant years ago but basically the same thing. Hi, by the way.”

“Hi. And I’ll take basically the same thing,” you said, leaning forward to peer into the hall. “Do me a favor and close the door?”

He nudged it shut with his foot and you took the bottle, popping it open on the edge of your desk. Joel sat in the chair on the other side of your desk before he followed suit, smirking as he did.

“I didn’t want witnesses if I broke the desk I’ve had all of a month, OK?” You said.

“Goldie, I don’t think you could break the desk if you tried,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. You did the same, humming a little in appreciation. You rolled the liquid on your tongue like you would a wine, the bubbles crackling and dancing there before you swallowed it.

“God, that’s good,” you said. “I can’t remember the last time I had a soda that wasn’t diet…”

“Christ you sound like a Yankee,” Joel laughed, sitting back in the chair. “That’s a Coke in your hand, darlin’, not a fuckin’ soda.”

“Oh God,” you groaned and laughed, too. “That was such a hard habit to break! I’d ask my roommate if we had any Cokes, she said no, I’d go in the fridge later and see Diet Pepsi and have a what the fuck moment.”

“Strange world out there,” Joel smiled slightly, turning the glass bottle that looked so small in his large hands.

“Are these the tamales?” You asked, nodding at the plate.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he said, taking the foil off the plate. The corn husks glistened and you groaned a little. Joel pulled two sets of plastic wrapped silverware out of his pocket and handed you one. “How long’s it been since you had one of these?”

“I don’t even want to own up to it,” you said, unwrapping the fork and knife. “I’ve basically been on a diet for the last decade of my life, these look incredible.”

You wheeled your office chair around the desk and sat next to Joel before peeling back a husk and cutting the end off with your fork and taking a bite. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you slumped back in the chair with a satisfied moan.

“Jesus Christ.”

“That good, huh?” Joel laughed.You just nodded, mouth full, and sat up to cut off another bite before you even swallowed the first one. “Diet for 10 years?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, covering your mouth with your hand until you could swallow. “There was the book tour, they wanted me to look a certain way. And… well, my husband has a type so…”

“Fuck that guy,” Joel said, opening another tamale and taking a bite of it. You rolled your eyes a little. “Mean it, fuck that and fuck him.”

“Oh, so you don’t have a type?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I seem to remember a very distinctive type in high school…”

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes.

“Pretty, for sure,” you said, teasing a little. “You definitely seemed to be a bit of a boobs man…”

“If I were with someone I sure as shit wouldn’t make them fucking diet to be my type,” he cut you off. “He’s a fucking idiot, Goldie.”

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it really is,” you waved him off.

“No, I’m really not,” he replied. “If we’d been talkin’ I’d have fuckin’ come to Rhode Island and kicked his sorry ass.”

“Joel,” you rolled your eyes.

“What?” He asked. “I would’ve. And he’d fuckin’ deserve it.”

“Anyway,” you said, cutting off another chunk of tamale. “You’ve got a new job starting tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s one that I’m actually lookin’ forward to, too. Get to be a little more creative…”

“You don’t normally get to be creative?” You frowned.

He scoffed.

“Not on any of the big shit,” he said. “Owners and managers get to do that. They toss me the smaller projects here and there to plan and run, this one is some owner’s suite remodel. Doin’ the bathroom, fancy fucking closet, that kind of shit. They’re letting me run it so I’ll shut up about never getting to do the fun stuff.”

“How long have you been working there?” You asked.

“Since I was 20,” he said. “So… fuck, 13 years? Jesus, I’m getting old…”

“And they’re not letting you do the creative stuff?” You asked, brows raised.

“I’m apparently ‘too valuable’ runnin’ the crew,” he used air quotes. “They throw a few of these little jobs to me every year but mostly I just make sure shit goes right on site for bigger jobs. Get it all done on time, all that.”

“Do you like doing that?” You asked.

“Not really.”

“OK,” you frowned. “So why are you still there?”

“Well, mostly because I tried paying my mortgage once with dreams and they told me to fuck off,” he said dryly and you glared at him.

“You know what I mean,” you said, cutting off a chunk of his tamale.

“Hey!”

“Shove it,” you popped it in your mouth before he could take it back. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been doing that work for a while is what I mean, I’m sure somewhere else would hire you and you could do the parts of it you liked.”

“What I really want is to start my own company,” he said. “Well, what I really want is to play music but that ship’s sailed. Realistically, I’d like to start my own company. I think I could make some really cool shit if I had the chance.”

“So do it,” you shrugged.

“Oh yeah, easy for you to say,” he scoffed. “What, you just write your fuckin’ book?”

“No,” you said. “It took a lot of work and editing and rewriting and I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again but I did it. You can do it.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure you’ll ever do it again?” He frowned. “Thought I saw somethin’ about you writing another one.”

You looked at him for a moment, frowning a little, fork frozen over the plate. You were contracted for another book but that wasn’t something that had made national news, just an item in some industry publications after the press release from the publisher.

Why would Joel know that?

“What?” He asked. “Why are you starin’ at me?”

“Oh,” you said. “Just got something on your face…” You dipped your fork into some of the drippings on the plate before smearing it on Joel’s cheek. “Just there, nothing crazy.”

He pursed his lips and looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

“You’re the worst person I know,” he said, wiping his face with a tissue from the box on your desk.

You smirked, sitting back in your chair and putting your legging-clad legs in his lap, the way you used to sit with him on the couch back when you were teenagers.

“I know.”

“I’m serious though,” he said, the hand not holding the fork going around your calf just like it always had. “What do you mean you might never do it again?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, peeling the husk off another tamale and cutting off a bite of it. “I don’t know that I have another story to tell. I’ve been trying to tell another one and I just… haven’t found one. I think I had one good story in me and I told it. That’s the end.”

“That’s bullshit,” Joel said.

“It’s really not,” you shrugged. “When I wrote the first one it just kind of flowed. At least the first draft did. I wrote it in about six months after my mom died and Gale…”

“Brad.”

You glared at him.

“Gale,” you repeated. “Edited it and workshopped it with me.”

“Oh I’m sure he was a fuckin’ natural at that,” Joel said, voice dripping in sarcasm. You glared at him. “What, you’re telling me I’m wrong? I don’t think I am…”

“He was well equipped for the job,” you allowed. “And yeah, it took a lot of edits and rewrites before it was ready to even start trying to show to agents, it was years of work… Who would I do that with now? I don’t know that I can do it by myself…”

“Do it with your publisher and shit,” Joel said. “Come on, don’t tell me that jackass is what’s holding you back…”

“It’s not just that. I really don’t know that I have anything else to say. And even if I did…” you took a deep breath. You’d never said this aloud, not even to your agent. “If I did, what if it’s not as good?”

Joel waved you off.

“Of course it’d be as good, the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that everyone freaked the fuck out about the fact that my ‘debut novel,’” you put the words in air quotes, “was so brilliant and shit, what if I never write anything better? What if everything I ever make after this is a let down? What if I never do anything good again? Everyone who took a risk on me, everyone who read my first book, everyone who ever thought I could do something will be let down by it. Jesus, one reviewer said it was the best debut novel since To Kill a Mockingbird, how the fuck am I supposed to live up to that? Starting to understand why Harper Lee didn’t publish anything else for decades…”

“Goldie,” Joel said gently. “I’m sure you’d write something great.”

You poked at your tamale, staring at it as you did.

“What if the only great thing I ever made was great because of him?” You asked quietly, eyes darting to Joel for a second before looking back at the plate. “What if it was just fine when it came from me and it only became what it became because of him?”

“Anything you’d write would be great, got nothing to do with fuckin’ Brad,” he said. “Not sure you can write something that’s not great.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Joel, you read the articles I wrote for the school paper,” you said. “I don’t think you’re a fair judge.”

“And your lit mag stuff,” he said defensively. “Look, I’m not a genius or anything but I’m smart enough to know when something’s great and you’re great, alright?”

“Yeah, well…” you nudged his leg with your knee. “So are you.”

He just looked at you for a moment until you frowned.

“What?”

He leaned forward with his fork, smearing some tamale drippings on the tip of your nose.

“Got something right… there.”

You laughed and he squeezed your calf and you cleaned your face before you went back to focusing on the food and life outside of your broader ambitions. Before what felt like too long there was a knock on your door and Alyssa poked her head in.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company,” she smiled, her eyes drifting to where your legs were still in Joel’s lap. “I was just going to put a note on your desk, I figured you’d be at your next class already. Have you written your midterm yet?”

“Not yet,” you said, looking at your watch and you realized it was far later than you realized and you had less than 10 minutes to walk to your next class. “Shit, I have to go!”

Joel released your leg from his hold and you scrambled to collect your things as Joel cleaned up the remains of lunch.

“If you wanted to write midterms together,” Alyssa said as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe next week?”

“Sure,” you said, looking around at your desk and grabbing your gold notebook before standing next to Joel. “Email me?”

“Yup,” she smiled, looking Joel up and down. “Absolutely will. Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, smiling a little. You looked between them and fought the urge to groan. She was just Joel’s type.

“Alright, some of us have to go teach,” you said. “Out of my office so I can lock up.”

You ushered them both into the hall.

“Have fun teaching,” Alyssa waved, giving Joel a last look before heading to her office a few doors down from yours.

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you said, taking Joel’s hand and pulling him along behind you before he could start gawking at her and then you were really late for school. “See you later…”

“What was that about?” Joel laughed as you spilled out into the hall that was tight with the press of students.

“I know your type,” you said. “And I don’t have time to wait for you to be done doing your thing…”

“My ‘thing?’ And you know my type?” He asked, brows raised. “Really? Well, in that case…”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed.

“I came by to see you, for the record,” he said. “And apparently feed you properly since you aren’t gonna do it yourself…”

“Thank you,” you said, sincerely. “That was really good. And it was really nice, hanging out with you.”

“It was good to hang out with you, too,” he said, smiling a little, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Should let you get to class though. Those minds aren’t gonna shape themselves. And I have your actual number now, not the fuckin’ hieroglyphics you tried to leave me Friday…”

“And I have yours,” you smiled back. “But I do have to go…”

“Right,” he said, leaning in and pulling you into a hug and holding you close for a second. He was warm and his chest was firm and there was something about the way his arms fit around you that was so all encompassing you were certain that you belonged there with him. That, somewhere in the universe, the root of you both had grown together and separated just to find each other again. He pulled back. “Don’t let those college kids give you too much trouble.”

“I won’t,” you said. “Don’t let Sarah give you shit.”

“Oh, I will,” he said. “Can’t help it. Bye, Goldie.”

You smiled.

“Bye, Joel.”

You were three minutes late to class. You didn’t care.

When you got home, you went to one of the boxes you hadn’t unpacked yet, one that sat in the extra bedroom that you hadn’t found a use for yet. You knew exactly which box, the one filled with things you only looked at when you were feeling especially strong or particularly weak. You sifted through old notebooks, past one of Joel’s faded band t-shirts that you’d swiped at his house when Tommy had knocked a cup of Kool-aid over when you were wearing a white shirt and Mrs. Miller and scrambled to get your top in the wash to get the stain out and then you’d never given it back, down to the shoebox of photos. You pulled it out and looked through them. Joel at 16, a confused look on his face as he lay on the wheeled contraption he used for sliding easily under his truck and you surprised him with camera, a splotch of grease on his cheek. You, 17, in Joel’s letterman that was big on him so it was massive on you, sleeves shoved up around your forearms as you stuck your tongue out at the camera. The two of you, 16, sitting on opposite sides of a restaurant booth, your legs stretched out on the benches, a basket of fries and a milkshake between you. You were flashing a peace sign at the camera and Joel was looking at you, a soft smile on his face.

It was easy to remember what friendship with Joel had been. It would be so easy to fall back into it. It felt like you were always supposed to be this way, lives so intertwined they were built on the same foundation. It had seemed an impossible thing, to blow it all apart. You’d loved it then. You missed it now. But it had blown apart and you weren’t sure you could survive losing it again.

You sighed, flipping to the back of the box to the photos from prom night. Your mom had sent them to you after you’d moved to Rhode Island and they’d languished at the photo lab for weeks. There was a simple note: “Thought you might want these,” a little heart drawn at the end.

You found the picture of the two of you together, your hand on his chest, his arm around your waist. You were looking up into his eyes and he was looking into yours, a small smile on his face, just enough for the beginnings of his dimple to show. You looked at it for a while before you signed, packing everything else away and moving to your office, propping the photo against your computer as you sat down to write.

***

Sarah had been in rare form that night. Very skeptical about why she needed to do homework at all and trying to logic her way out of needing to do it for as long as she possibly could.

“Kiddo, if you just sat down and did it, you’d be done by now,” Joel had groaned at one point.

“But if I just didn’t do it, I’d be done by now, too,” she replied.

He took a deep breath. Sometimes, this girl…

“Not on the table, Baby Girl,” he said. “You can either do your homework now and have time to watch TV before bed or you can not do your homework and fight me on it, not watch TV and get up early tomorrow to finish your homework. Up to you.”

She groaned, picking up her pencil, bouncing her leg impatiently under the dinner table. Joel wasn’t sure who was happier when the damn worksheets were done, him or his daughter.

Once Joel was certain Sarah was asleep, he went to the back of his closet and found the box that he kept stashed away. He didn’t have to look far, the two copies of your book right on top. One was signed. He didn’t open that one, just looked at it now and then, held it when he wanted to touch something you’d touched once.

The other had a worn spot on the spine, where the structure of the book had cracked and bent enough times because he’d tried to read it dozens of times but could never bring himself to go past the first page.

He liked the cover of it, certain that you’d had a hand in picking it. It was simple, an orange sun with a gilded flower in front of it, the title, Halcyon, in bold letters below the abstract image. Joel flipped past the pages of praise, the title page, the table of contents, the forward written by fucking Brad. He turned until he got to the words that were yours. He knew they were yours, he recognized the voice of you, even on paper. No matter what you said, there wasn’t an ounce of Brad there. At least, not on that page.

“The sun in Texas was hot in summer,” you’d written, “melting ice cream and asphalt in equal measure. But it was the heat of his palm that made my cheeks burn…”

He closed the book, looking at the back cover with your picture on it. Your arms were folded so that one was in front of you, the other vertical alongside your face. Your gaze was intense, a knowing smile on your lips, as though you were staring at him, teasing him, tempting him. “The answers are all here, Joel,” your picture said. “If you could just make yourself read it, you’d know.”

He put the book down and got his phone out of his pocket, finding your number in his contacts.

You answered on the second ring.

“Oh my God, you’re so demanding,” you sighed in faux exasperation.

Joel laughed.

“I know, I’m so fucking needy, don’t know how you stand me.”

You laughed back.

“What’s up?”

“Been thinking,” he began.

“You?” You said. “Really?”

“Shut up.”

You giggled.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Feel free to tell me to kick rocks but… Sounds like neither of our lives have exactly gone the way we’ve wanted them to.”

“You mean you didn’t plan on being a single dad and I didn’t plan on being divorced at 32?” You gasped. “Color me shocked!”

“We were always good at holding each other accountable,” he said, ignoring you. “Hell, you’re the only reason I graduated high school…”

“And you’re the only reason I started at the school paper,” you said. Joel smiled at that, the memory of standing outside the newspaper office while you talked to the teacher so you couldn’t back out.

“Right,” he said. “Well… what if we did that now?”

“Now?” He could hear you frowning through the phone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said. “Why don’t we try to actually get our shit together? You make me better, always have…”

“You, too,” you said quietly but you at least sounded serious now.

“When are you supposed to have your next book done?” He asked. “Assuming there’s a contract with a deadline for that shit, right?”

“End of next year,” you sighed.

“Great,” Joel said. “Alright, let’s give ourselves to the end of next year to set ourselves straight. You finish your book, whatever else you want to get done…”

“Finalize my divorce,” you said.

“That’s a good one,” Joel said. “I’ll see about starting my own business…”

“And having a stable relationship?” You asked.

“Sounds like a good goal,” he answered, his stomach twisting a bit at that. “What do you say? We come up with a list of shit and go from there? You know we’re better when we’re on a team than when we’re not.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said eventually. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Joel smiled a little, looking down at the box, the cover of your book looking back at him.

“It’s a deal,” he said. “We’ve got this, Goldie.”

You laughed a little.

“Hell yeah we do.”

Next Chapter

A/N: So sorry for the long wait on this! Should be weekly updates from here out for a while, promise <3

Thank you thank you thank you for reading! I'm so excited for what's coming up for these two, I just love how they love each other and yes. I can't wait to explore it all with you.

Thank you for being here! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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sinsinsininning · 3 months

Text

A little bit softer

Chapter 4

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!Reader

This includes Kid’s POV of the end of Chapter 3 while the reader is in the shower. 😳

Also to clarify, Badger is a made up character, I didn’t feel like incorporating a cannon character into the reader’s backstory. I spent literally 2 seconds on the name and even less time on a vague description of him which I’ll post later.

TW: swearing, voyeurism, masturbating (both male and female)

~~~~~~~

After you left him on the deck, Kid ate slowly, thinking out the details of his next steps. He had no idea where this bastard, Badger, was or even what he’d look like.

Plus the West Blue was crawling with dangerous crews and the notorious 5 Families of the West, headed up by Capone Bege. Not someone Kid was on good terms with and, depending on how deep into the West they’d go, someone they’d likely run into.

While Kid would prefer to just make this a quick mission, so they could double back and enter the Grand Line, he was excited to think of all the practice the crew would get fighting all these other crews. It’d be good training before they entered the New World.

After finishing, he pulled out the maps and started charting again. Wire eventually returned to join him and the two worked quietly. Kid was making a list of things they could get while in the West Blue when Wire spoke up.

“So what’s this Captain’s name?”

“Why’re you asking?” Kid growled. “Just chart the stupid map.”

“I’m nearly done, I just need to know where to find him, then I can finalize the map. Right now I’ve just got it charted how to get there while avoiding marines bases and included supply stops. But I need a specific area to finish.”

“His name is Badger.” Kid said after a beat.

“Is that his first name or last name?” Wire asked.

“The fuck if I know. His name is Badger, he’s in the West Blue, and I’m gonna kill him. Make the map.” Kid blustered for a moment, he felt a little silly, all this effort and he didn’t even know who the guy was. Fuck he didn’t even know if you’d been honest…. Nah you were nearly crying, you wouldn’t lie like that. Wire sighed heavily and Kid nearly smashed the table.

“Ok, I can’t finish it tonight, but I’ll go through some logs and see if I can get more info on him.” Wire relented, knowing the captain was at his limit. “We should be able to make it to the next island tomorrow, I’ll do some more digging then too.” Kid grunted an acknowledgement, head down as he finished his list, pen nearly tearing the paper.

Wire stood and started putting the supplies away, he glanced at his captain.

“Boss… you know-“ He paused and considered himself, Kid glanced at him with a scowl. Better play it safe. “Just let me know if you need anything, you know I’d help.” Kid bristled at that, but just grunted again to dismiss the tall man.

He doodled a few sketches of his projects on the list, trying to clear his head. Eventually he puts everything up and leans against the railing, watching the waves and night sky.

After an hour or so, Heat joins him to take his watch shift, but brought a few beers for his captain. Kid downs his first two quickly, then nurses the next one.

“It’s none of my business,” Heat starts off.

“Then don’t fucking bring it up.” Kid snaps.

“But I think we should get rid of the sniper rookie.” Heat continues, eyes on the coast.

“What? Why the fuck do you think that?” Kid stood to shout at him. “Thought you two were buddy-buddy?!” He could keep the jealously out of voice.

“She’s alright. But she’s soft.” Heat isn’t phased by the shouting. “She won’t make it in the Grand Line. We can’t have that type of weakness.”

“Quincy’s soft. Wire’s soft. You questioning my authority huh?” Kid gulped the rest of his drink and tossed the bottle behind him. “You think I keep a weak crew?! That what you’re trying to say?!”

“The only thing she’s got going for her is she’s cute.” Heat added nonchalantly, Kid was fuming.

“Fuck off like she’d want your ugly, stitched up headed ass!” Kid grabbed his vest, forcing the other man to look at him. “She’s staying, she’s a good sniper and a good crew mate. Fucking question me again and I’ll fucking throw you overboard!” Heat grinned and Kid felt like he’d been caught.

“I get why everyone’s been fucking with you lately,” Heat chuckled. “It’s fun. You’re so biased for her, I’m a little jealous really, wish you’d defend me this hard.”

Kid wanted to shout again but he felt like he’d reveal too much. Well, more than what he’d already done. His face was hot and he felt deflated, but he released Heat with a shove.

“Maybe if ya did your job and not play mind games I would.” He finally says, Heat resumes his watch. An awkward silence falls over them.

“It’s not that bad, Boss. Trust me it could be worse. Imagine you liked Pomp? He’s fucking insane. I heard he sold his ex husband’s kidney for cheating on him in a dream.” Heat tried to console his friend, not his forte, but he felt a little bad at his trick. Kid let out a short laugh.

“Fuckin’ hell that can’t be true…. Can it?” He started on his next beer, sitting back down. They laugh together again.

“I don’t actually think we should get rid of her. Just sayin.”

“I know.”

“Yeah she’s soft, but she saved my ass that last fight, shooting that guy trying to creep up on me while I was taking care of Reck.”

Kid just hummed in response, still hesitant to say anything about her. Heat noticed.

“I promise it’s not that bad.”

Silence.

“I don’t think she’s scared of you, not really at least.”

“I heard what she said to you.”

“I think she’s scared of her ex captain. Should make her sit down with Wire, he’d sort her head out.” Heat lit a cigarette, offering a pull to Kid who shook his head.

“Not a bad idea. Just don’t want anyone knowing how-“ He paused. “She can go to Wire but I’m not gonna make her.” He said finally, Heat nodded in understanding.

“You can’t say it, I gotcha.”

“I can’t say it first.” Kid sighed, finishing his last bottle.

“Makes sense. Don’t worry,” Heat claps his hand on the captain’s shoulder. “It’ll happen.”

“Since when have you gotten this mushy?” Kid sneered. “I hate it. Go back to minding your own business.” Heat laughed as his captain got up. It was past midnight and he was tired.

He made his way down the halls, he needed to return his dishes or else Killer would bitch at him all day tomorrow. He placed them in the sink, then a thought struck him. Quickly glancing in the fridge, your plate was still there, all wrapped up nicely.

You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, he slammed the fridge shut. Fuck, you probably hadn’t finished your shit yet. He stalked down the halls towards your make shift shop room, irritated that you’d not finished yet and had still not eaten.

A small part of him was excited to have an excuse to talk to you, even if it was just to bitch at you. Maybe he’d walk you to the galley personally, to make sure you followed orders. Maybe he’d sit with you as you ate too, couldn’t let you try to skip out. After that he’d grumble at you for making him stay up late to babysit you, even though he chose to do it.

Then he may as well make you go to bed. His bed. With him. Obviously to make sure you didn’t try to sneak back to your project. He’d keep you pressed in his arms all night to ensure you didn’t try anything.

Fuck he needed to stop, he was hard in the middle of the hallway. He adjusted his belt before entering the shop room, hoping it’d hide his arousal. Somehow the shop was empty, all the weapons cleaned and stacked up correctly. He looked around for any mistakes or mess you’d left behind, anything that’d allow him a chance to speak with you.

But the room was spotless, everything put away correctly. Then where the fuck were you? He wondered if you went to bed right away, tempted to check your bunk. He headed toward it, pausing when he passed by the bathrooms, steam pouring out the door.

The doors to the bathrooms all had hatches at the top that opened to allow steam to vent. He was a little impressed that the hot water still worked after everyone’s showers.

With you in the stalls he didn’t have any excuse to bother you, you’d finished your work and unless he wanted to wait until you were out to force you to the galley, he was out of luck for tonight. Kid turned to go when he heard you moan.

Oh fuck.

He glanced around the halls, no one could hear you or see him palm his cock over his pants. You weren’t generous with your noises, obviously trying to stifle them, but some slipped out.

Your groans and whines sounded frustrated, like you couldn’t work how you wanted. He reached his hand inside his pants to grip himself, jaw clenched almost painfully to avoid alerting you. His mind filled in the gaps of what he couldn’t see. He pictured walking in and offering to help you reach your climax, since you still seemed to struggle.

He thought about how’d you’d look right then if he did, wet and naked, probably surprised and shy. Maybe you’d try to cover yourself, until you’d realize what he was offering. Or maybe you already knew he was there, confident he’d join you. Maybe you’d tell him exactly what you wanted from him.

He’d let you boss him around, at least at the start, but after you cum once or twice, then he’d be in control again. He thumbed his slit right as you let out a different moan.

Oh. That one was much more satisfied, he didn’t know what changed to make everything work for you, but he was pleased. He stroked himself faster now, checking the halls quickly, then held his ear to the open hatch. Your whines and moans were breathier, much more high pitched. He squeezed his cock, picturing it was you. When he closed his eyes and really focused on listening, he swore he could hear how wet your pussy sounds.

Your moans are getting faster and he tries to keep up, hand pumping hard to get himself off. Finally you let off a loud moan, cutting yourself off halfway through in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. He’s not quite there yet, so he moves his hand fast, but freezes when you turn of the shower.

Shit you were done. He was fucked.

Without adjusting his pants he quickly walks down the hall, his workshop is closer than his room. It’ll have to do for now, it’s not the first time he’s jacked off in there. He gets the door closed and locked before resuming.

Part of him is irritated, his high was so close just to be edged back. But more of him felt a little proud, you’d gotten off before him, as you should. Yeah it wasn’t like he’d gotten you to cum, but it still stroked his ego. He thought about that as he sat down, hand around himself again, stroking quickly.

He wondered how many times he should make you cum before he did. Hell how many times should you cum before he even fucked you with his cock. At least two times on his fingers and maybe three times of his tongue, that seemed fair.

He rubbed his tip harshly as he thought about your sounds, they were so sweet and full of emotion. Kid could basically read your mind from how expressive you were, so open and honest with your lewd moans. He could tell when you were close, when you were struggling, and even when something clicked. He wondered what it was that made you moan like that, thinking of ways to extract that info.

His climax caught him off guard as he thought about you. He came across his hand and chest with a groan, some of his spend getting on his pants. As he came down, panting as he leaned back in his chair, he could hear you walking down the hall.

Leaping up, he tucked himself back into his pants, grabbed an old rag to wipe the cooling cum from his hands and chest. He knocked over the chair and toppled a few tools in his haste. Your steps were quiet but he was hyper aware of you as you passed the door.

After a few minutes of quiet he finally exited, going straight to his room and laying face down on the bed. He wanted to shout but settled for smothering himself until he finally dozed off.

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #one piece kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader

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love-lilly02 · 19 days

Text

The Challenge— Ch. 8

AN: This is a preview for the next part, where we will find out more about the readers past and get to explore the existing elation ship between the boys. it got posted early so the next chapter could take a while or come out like tomorrow, idk

“Hold still,” Price said, holding the packs above your hands. You nodded, shifting nervously on your knees. “Only gonna hurt for a second.” He lied every time, but the brief attempt at comfort made you feel a bit better.

The second the medication touched the burns you cringed, tensing immensely. You heard him try to tell you to relax, but his voice was drowned out by a wave of pain. Every time you two did this procedure it only seemed to get worse, but you were slightly thankful for it.

Coming back home had been rough. Nik only stayed for a few hours, making sure that you were situated and properly taken care of before he returned to his desolate corner in russia (they always preached how lucky you were to make your way to him, instead of heading in your enemies direction), and you had been thrown into testing immediately after that.

It felt like something out of a marvel movie, they assessed your injuries and just how well you were able to operate, thanks to Nik, you were still able to participate in field work as a long distance asset, you gave them the information you stole from the russians, and they gave you medicine for the many burns you had on your body.

Which was why you found yourself in this position.

You could still use your hands, thankfully. They were good for a manner of things, fighting, eating, and the like. But you couldn’t do things like write or hold a brush, which was the exact task required to apply the medicine that the doctors gave. So Price had to help you.

At first it was awkward, sitting there half naked on his desk while he applied a cream that burned worse than the one Nikolai gave you all over your body, but you two slowly got used to it, even breaking the tense silence with small bursts of conversation. Usually about something that had happened earlier that day. Never about the indecent that put you in this position.

There was one burn that required special attention, seeing as it hadn’t healed correctly. On the back of your neck, just in the juncture connecting your shoulders, and the only place you couldn’t reach. That one specifically hurt the worst, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving to touch it once the cream was applied.

Price’s solution to this was to have you sit between his legs while it was applied.

It did help, of course. Any time you tried to shift your neck or flinch away from the pain, he was there with a steadying hand on your head and a slight “Don’t wana do that,” and you were still again.

Some nights were better than others, but you were always distinctly aware of the position it left you in.

Just as you were always aware of the way he would go half-hard every time you two did that.

“There you go, all done.” You sat back, looking up at him with wide eyes. You didn’t miss the way he had to swallow a bit harder, or shift his hips ever so slightly. “Wasn’t too bad.”

“You try having second degree burns and come back with that same bull shit.” He just laughed and shook his head.

“Ya know… if you want to talk about what happened—“

“John, it’s okay.” Truth be told, it wasn’t okay. It was the farthest thing from okay, but you weren’t going to bring it up anytime soon. “What happened happened.”

He just grunted. “ ‘Boys still haven’t given up on that challenge.” You just laughed, wincing at the sting of the burns.

“Honestly, you guys find even one photo and i’ll sing your praises.” You could feel his eyes on you as you got dressed, and sure enough when you turned back around he was staring at you with a different kind of intensity.

“It took you being gone for two months for us to realize we hardly know anything about you. Why is that?”

You blinked in surprise, stepping towards the door. “I have my reasons.” The hall was empty, and you sort of wished John had people outside eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Find those photos and you’ll figure it out.”

me when i wanna write sex but they aren’t like that yet

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#cod x reader #poly 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost x reader

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writeforfandoms · 1 month

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Waking Lions 24

Find the series masterlist

Here we are at the second to last chapter! Next chapter is the last one. Eek!

An important conversation is had, and you begin to navigate your new normal.

Warnings: Swearing, emotions, emotional talks, offscreen death.

Word count: 1.2k

“Ace,” John answered just after the second ring.

“John,” you greeted. You swallowed, suddenly uncertain how to proceed now that you had him on the phone. “How is clean up going?”

John huffed, a soft mostly amused sound. “As well as can be expected,” he murmured. “How are you?”

You paused to consider the question. Normally you'd deflect, joke, answer in riddles. But… Well. You didn't need to anymore. Not with John, at least. “Working through things,” you admitted, soft and slow.

He hummed. “Suppose we have some things to talk about.”

“We do.” You didn't particularly want to. In fact, you'd much rather run. It was easier to run. You didn't have to deal with any of these complex things. But it also isolated you.

And for once, you'd rather not be isolated. You didn't want to run from John, not really.

Silence held between the two of you for a few long moments, stilted and awkward, as things hadn't been before. You kind of hated it.

“I don't like that he's still alive.” That hadn't been where you were going to start. Dammit.

John breathed out slowly, crackling down the line. “I understand that,” he said, speaking slowly, weighing his words. “But he has more to tell us still.”

You clenched your jaw, pushing down the irrational anger. “I know,” you managed. “I know you need him for evidence. But I can't relax until he's dead.”

John was silent for long enough that you thought about checking if he was still there. “Understood,” he grunted finally.

Your heart leapt. You knew that tone. That was the tone of a man willing to do whatever it took to fulfill his mission. Was he saying…? You swallowed. You couldn't bring yourself to ask. “So, where does this leave us?”

“Was going to ask you that, love.” John huffed out a short breath, a little rasp over the line making you think he was rubbing his beard.

You sighed softly. “Not sure,” you admitted. “How much longer are you here?”

“We leave tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” Your heart ached for reasons you didn't want to examine just yet. “No rest for the weary, hm?”

“Or the wicked.” He chuckled with black humor.

“Well.” You breathed in slowly. “Suppose you're not allowed to tell me where you're going?”

“Nowhere you should be,” he said sharply. You could all but see the look he'd aim at you.

Your lips quirked. “Alright, then, don't tell me this time.” You paused, considering. This was well outside the rules, but, well. You'd already broken so many rules for him, for Kate. The rules didn't matter anymore. “Tell me, when you can.”

By the sudden, absolute silence on his end, you knew he caught the significance of your words. “I will,” he agreed in a low rasp. “Not staying with Kate?”

“I will, for a while,” you murmured, tipping your head back to look up at the ceiling. “But I'm sure my feet will start itching again soon.”

“Think they ever won't?” The question was light, teasing. But you could hear the genuine inquiry beneath.

“That depends.” You swallowed.

“On?”

“How long Gray lives.” You breathed in deep for courage. “And if someone wanted me to stay.”

Price was silent again for a few moments. When he did answer you, his voice was rough. “Well, then. We'll see what happens, eh?”

“We will.” You smiled, choosing to be hopeful that he'd said “we”, not just you. “Do you need to go?”

“Not yet,” he said quickly, and you smiled at the ceiling. “Tell me what you've been doing.”

So you did. Not that you'd done much. He seemed amused and understanding at how much you'd slept, commenting only that sleep was good for you. In return, he gave you the edited version of catching up with his team after they'd all gotten back from their assignments. He wouldn't give you any details, and you didn't push for any.

It was a fragile sort of peace, talking around some things, but it worked. The two of you made it work.

It gave you hope, for later. Down the road. Once you were less of a mess.

When the two of you finally hung up, it was late. Late enough that you felt bad for keeping him. But you knew he wouldn't accept an apology, wouldn't want to hear it.

But you were surprised to find a text from Gaz when you woke.

You're a bloody miracle worker.

You laughed to yourself, shaking your head. I didn't do much.

Gaz replied immediately. Either he was bored or not busy. Don't care what you did, keep it up. He's almost mellow today.

You snorted but didn't reply to him. You didn't need to.

Instead, you spent the day doing housework and debating what you wanted to do, long term. Not your most productive day. Oh well. Not every day could be productive. Or even good.

You did check with Kate about when the team was leaving. You sent John a text shortly before they were due to leave.

Safe journeys, John. I'll see you soon.

You stayed with Kate another week and a half before the urge to go grew too strong. But you didn't run. You told her where you were going, and left in the morning.

You weren't going anywhere for work, not yet. You didn't need to work just yet. Instead, you traveled just to wander. To find some new favorite restaurants. Moving had always helped you decide what to do, and this time was no different.

You also kept up with texting John. He didn't respond right away, sometimes not for days. But he always responded.

It was… weird. But nice.

Two weeks into your leisurely travel, you finally started to consider work again. You could probably reconnect with enough contacts to start over, or switch entirely to giving information to Kate. Or you could try something else, maybe.

But you did like the freedom afforded you with travel and gathering information.

Hm. Something to think further about, certainly. You did have some options.

You'd just settled back in your hotel for the night when your phone rang. Kate. That was surprising.

“I don't have bail money,” you answered in lieu of a proper greeting.

But Kate apparently wasn't in the mood for your jokes. “Sit down,” she said firmly. “Now.”

You sat on the bed, swallowing hard. “What happened?” Dread spread icy limbs through your chest.

“Gray's dead.”

The world swayed even as your heart stopped. “What?” You didn't recognize the tiny wheeze as your own voice.

“He was found dead this morning. Single gunshot wound to the head. No security footage,” Kate told you, matter of fact and as close to inflectionless as you'd ever heard her.

You breathed in deep as your heart restarted, pounding along. “You're absolutely sure.”

“Yes.” Kate sounded grimly satisfied when she said, “Gray is dead.”

You sat there for moments that stretched an eternity, absolutely no thoughts in your head. Gray was dead. He was finally dead.

Wait.

“Single gunshot wound?” You confirmed, the world snapping back into hard focus. “No footage at all?”

“Correct.”

“I need to go.” You hung up, scrambling off the bed to start throwing your things back in your bags. You spared one minute to send off a text, and then hailed a cab to the nearest airport.

You had a plane to catch.

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