#so sorry for this it entered my head and got stuck there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostfacd · 5 months

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I BET ON LOSING DOGS.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

PART TWO

summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.

warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return

author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓

You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.

Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.

“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.

He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”

Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations

“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”

He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”

You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.

“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.

“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.

“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back

Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.

After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.

“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”

“Who hates you Coryo?”

“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”

“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.

“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.

“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”

But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.

- - -

The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.

You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.

His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.

“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.

He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.

He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.

“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.

“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”

- - -

Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.

You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.

Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.

“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.

“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.

“But Coryo—”

Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.

Well, he thought, this was it.

This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.

“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”

But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.

- - -

“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.

You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.

“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.

“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.

“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”

“I know! I was going to—”

He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”

His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.

“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.

- - -

Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.

Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.

So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.

Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.

But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.

He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.

What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.

He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.

If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.

“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”

“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”

Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.

“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”

You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.

When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.

“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”

Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”

Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”

God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.

“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.

Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.

If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.

- - -

The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.

“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”

You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.

“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.

“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.

“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”

“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”

He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”

Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.

“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”

But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.

You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.

Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.

Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.

Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?

He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.

If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.

And this? It was just the beginning.

#coriolanus is so mitski coded if he wasn’t a launtic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games x reader #the hunger games x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

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'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body.

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper.

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding.

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim.

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now.

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.”

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.”

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand.

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know.

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.”

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.”

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?”

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.”

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?”

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.”

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.”

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while.

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it.

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like.

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm.

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt.

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault.

Then the kiss had happened.

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt.

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?”

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that.

But now you do.

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.”

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward.

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?”

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver.

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.”

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .”

“Hear that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?”

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.”

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.”

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.”

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.”

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.”

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone.

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.”

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you.

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns.

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.”

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates.

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick.

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you.

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do.

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets.

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.”

Joel squeezes your breast as his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses.

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you, fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time.

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves.

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously.

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss.

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.”

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him.

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile.

“Inside me, daddy, please.”

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—”

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach.

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him.

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver.

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.”

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.”

“Don’t have to what?”

“Send the video.”

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.”

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.”

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger.

“I guess I will.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tw daddy kink #tlou fanfic #the last fo us fanfiction #hbo tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic

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suugarbabe · 8 months

Text

Unexpected | m.r x reader

prompt: Hii! How are you? This is my first time sending an ask and I just wanted to say that I love your writings! May I ask for a enemies to lovers with Mattheo Riddle? The reader is from the golden trio and they get into an argument with a lot of chemistry and tension. Thank you and I'm sorry for my bad english.

maybe enemies to lovers, like they hate each other and then realize that they are soulmates and then have to figure out what to do. some angst but ends i fluff please

word count: ~3.8k

warnings: slight angst feeling, fluff, e2l, soulmate trope, some heavy petting

an: so there's no argument like the prompt asks (sorry) but when I started writing it just kind of flowed out this way so hopefully it's still okay.

“Go on, show us again,” Ron Weasley was shaking a turkey leg in your general direction, asking to see the words that appeared on your arm this morning. In the wizarding world, on the day you were going to properly meet your soulmate, the first sentence they speak to you, excluding their name, will appear on your forearm in their handwriting.

It was incredibly annoying to you that Ron and Hermione got this mess out of the way the first day on the bloody train. To your and Harry’s amusement, neither were originally excited about the match, but after the chaos that ensued for the four of you by the end of that year they were inseparable. Nothing brings two people closer than tragedy.

Things got even more frustrating for you when Harry and Ginny realized they were soulmates, leaving you the lone wolf in your foursome. Entering your sixth year this year you were hopeful that maybe you would finally be able to find out who your soulmate was, roughly three fourths of those leave Hogwarts knowing who they’re intended to be with, and you would rather Avada Kadavera yourself then leave your seventh year soulmateless.

You grabbed the sleeve of your jumper, tugging it up to your elbow, sticking your arm out in the middle of the table for your three friends to view. There on your arm read a singular sentence, do I intimidate you, love?

Hermione sat back on the bench, “His handwriting really is awful, whoever he is.” You scoffed at your friend, “Not exactly my biggest concern, Mione. More worried about why he thinks he would intimidate me? Who would even think that? By this point in our school life you’d think any of us were more intimidating than the majority of the student body.”

“Yeah, except Slytherin,” Harry snorted, Ron following with his own round of laughter. But you weren’t laughing, you were looking at Hermione who was sporting the same grimace and worried eyes that you were sure your face looked like.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked at the two of you. “It was a joke, y/n/n,” Harry tried to ease the tension that was building. “Yeah, I mean, y’don't really think your soulmate might be…one of them,” Ron was anything but subtle with his tone of disgust, as well as his entire body turning around to face the Slytherin table.

Ron’s actions didn’t go unnoticed by a particular group of Slytherin boys. “Staring problem, Weasley? Got a crush?” Malfoy shouted across the dining hall, earning laughs and teasing hollars from his friends.

“Oi, Malfoy, got a present for you,” you stuck your hand in your school bag, pretending to roam around before pulling your hand back out and lifting it high in the air, giving Malfoy the middle finger. His face immediately turned into a scowl. The boy next to him, however, pretended to catch your gesture in the air and put it in his pocket, winking at you in the process.

You rolled your eyes, turning to Hermione who had a look of disgust on her face, “Riddle’s ego really is massive innit.” All three of your friends' heads began to nod. “I swear if he didn’t verbalize how much he bloody hated us I would think he was flirting with you y/n/n.”

“Shut it, Weasley, don’t you put that on me,” you pointed your finger at him, tone joking but words serious. He put his hands up in defense, laughing along with the rest of your friends as you all gathered your things and headed towards your first class.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar conversation was being had at the Slytherin table. “Glad to see meeting your soulmate hasn’t deterred you from trying to flirt with anything that breathes,” Pansy took a sip of her pumpkin juice, teasing the curly haired boy across from her.

“Dunno what you mean, Pans,” the dimples on Mattheo’s cheeks popping out as he smirked.

“Show us your arm again, cousin,” Draco’s words causing everyone to look at Mattheo now. The younger boy scowled, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt. There on his arm, in beautiful loopy script were the words you’ve got to be fucking joking.

Theo couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a foul word in such pretty handwriting.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, pulling his sleeve back down, “Yeah, well let’s just hope the bird is someone I can tolerate.”

You let out a long groan, hands rubbing up and down your face as you leaned your elbows on your knees . Hermione was sat next to you in the common room, rubbing up and down your back, “The day’s not over quite yet, y/n/n. It wouldn’t appear if you weren’t gonna meet them today.”

“Yeah,” Ron put on his best attempt at an encouraging smile, “maybe they’re another Gryffindor and you’ll meet them before we go to bed.” Harry nodded next to him in agreement.

You stood up, grabbing your jumper off the arm of the couch and throwing it on, “M’gonna go for a walk.”

Hermione’s lips downturned, “It’s nearly curfew.” You sighed, looking over at Harry. “I’ll go get my cloak,” he sighed, standing and walking quickly to his dorm room.

After Harry’s return you thanked him, spending an extra twenty minutes convincing Hermione that you would be the utmost cautious and affirmed to Ron that you would stash the cloak if you were to be caught.

Now you were quietly climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. When you got to the top, you did a quick look over the railing. With no sign of Filch anywhere you dropped the cloak, laying it on the floor so you didn’t have to sit on the bare ground.

As you got comfortable you dug in your shirt, pulling out a spliff. Hermione would murder you if she found out you smoked, however the year you all had to study for your O.W.L’s, you were so stressed you ended up buying from Theo Nott.

He promised to keep it to himself and you promised it was a one time thing, but you found yourself buying from him every couple months. You weren't sure if she would be more disappointed in your smoking, or you interacting with someone in the forbidden Slytherin group.

You mumbled a short incendio before taking a long drag. You blew the smoke out slowly, watching it ripple through the air and up into the night sky. You looked up at the stars, knowing the day was likely to be over soon and wondering if you were the only witch that was destined to not run into their soulmate like everyone else.

You were lost in your thoughts and self pity. So much so you didn’t even hear someone come up the tower steps until they hit the top. You scrambled to your feet, ready to cover yourself with the cloak when you realized it wasn’t Filch, but a boy instead.

The dark of the night made it difficult for you to see exactly who it was at first, that and the fact that every time he took a step forward you seemed to take a step back until your back was against the stone wall. When he finally stepped into the light, your breath caught in your throat. Standing in front of you, signature smirk adoring his face was Mattheo Riddle.

You stayed rigid against the wall as he got closer to you. His fingers brushed yours as he took the spliff, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling. His eyes never left yours as he turned his head slightly, blowing the smoke into the night. His eyes traveled over you, taking in your black sleep shorts and house jumper. When he looked at your face again he locked eyes with you, almost like he was trying to read what was going on in your brain.

“Do I intimidate you, love?” The words seemed to leave his lips without a second thought and you felt like your chest was going to cave in. There was just no way, absolutely bloody not that he said those words, the words you had been anticipating someone to say all day. Him of all people that could’ve spoken them.

He raised his eyebrows at you, clearly looking for you to answer. Instead of some sputtering response of nervousness like Mattheo was expecting, your face just dropped.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” Mattheo’s face went white after you responded, and that was all the evidence you needed to confirm that Mattheo fucking Riddle was your soulmate. He hated you. You hated him. How could two people that despise each other be destined to be soulmates?

"What are you even doing up here?" You crossed your arms over your chest, sitting into your hip. His smirk only seemed to grow, "I think the better question is what are you doing up here, partaking in drugs no less? Little miss golden girl."

You rolled your eyes, "What's that supposed to mean, Riddle?" Mattheo's jaw clenched, "It's Mattheo. And you know what it means. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew little miss perfect liked to come up to the astronomy tower to get high."

"Why would anyone believe you over me?" You were acting a little cocky now, but Mattheo was right in the aspect that you and your friends were seen in an overall more positive light than he and his.

However the look on Mattheo's face made you think he knew something you didn't, "I guess I could just have your dealer tell everyone, or are you buying from someone besides Nott these days?"

He was irritating you on purpose now. You grabbed the spliff back from Mattheo, going to sit where you were before but now leaning your forehead against the railing, “This is got to be some kind of mistake.”

Mattheo could only snicker as he went to sit next to you, hanging his arms over the raining as he looked over the grounds, “S’destiny love, no mistake about it.”

“Thanks so much, you’re being really encouraging about this whole thing,” you rolled your eyes, holding your hand out to him. He took it from you, filling his lungs with smoke again, passing it back and forth throughout the conversation.

Mattheo shrugged his shoulders, “At least we’re both fit.” You snorted at this, “Who said I thought you were fit?” He scoffed, “Please, I’ve seen the way you ogle me.” You found yourself laughing, a true full belly head thrown back laugh before you looked at him and he thought the smile you were wearing was actually kind of cute, “How would you know that unless you were ogling me, hmm?”

Mattheo opened his mouth to respond, but found he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse before you were speaking again. The sigh you let out let him know how stressed you really were, “Our friends are not going to like this.”

He nodded, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he spoke, “Merlin, no. They’re going to bloody hate it. But s’not like it was really our choice.” You knew he was right, and you knew he was trying to be comforting, but the tone in his voice let you know that he was just as worried to let his group of friends know as much as you were.

You opened your mouth to respond to him when you heard the all too familiar jingle of Mrs. Norris’ collar sounding like she was ascending the stairs. Your eyes grew wide as you and Mattheo both jumped to your feet. It looked like Mattheo is contemplating jumping over the tower railing when you grab his arm to push him flat against the stone wall.

He looked at you with utter confusion as you grabbed the cloak before turning around and pushing your back flush against his chest. “What are you-”

“Shut it,” you cut him off, indicating to him to wrap his arms around your waist as you threw the cloak over the pair of you. As the cat walked on to the tower landing you felt Mattheo’s arms tighten around you, doing his best to pull you impossibly closer.

He was decently taller than you, having to duck down slightly so the cloak covered you both properly. His face was tucked in close to your neck. His breath warm and tickling your skin as Filch followed after his beloved pet, glancing around for anything out of place.

When he was satisfied, Filch turned around to leave, letting his cat lead the way. You waited a few beats, making sure they were nearly to the bottom of the staircase before pulling the cloak off the two of you and pushing Mattheo’s hands off of your body.

“Thing comes in handy, that,” he pointed to the cloth in your hand. You chucked, “Yeah, m’sure your lot would get a lot less detentions if you had one.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we can’t all be like the golden quartet.”

You scoffed slightly at this as you headed down the stairs, Mattheo close behind you, “We didn’t give ourselves that nickname, you know.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah but m’sure you all don’t mind it. Definitely gets you some favoritism.”

You stopped at the end of the corridor, Mattheo running into your back at the action and cursing. You turned to face him, “You know, my friends and I have endured a hell of a lot of shite over the last couple years, maybe we deserve a little break when we’re actually able to do normal bloody teenage things.”

As much as you were trying to be harsh with him, be the slightest bit intimidating, his height gave him all the advantage. Mattheo knew what you meant, what you were saying without saying the words themselves. “I’m not like him. Don’t clump me in your same category of hatred. He’s done things to me too,” his eyes reflected a bit of hurt as he spoke and you knew he was telling the truth.

Everyone in school assumed Mattheo was just like his father, held the same ideals and wanted the same things for the wizarding world. The look you were seeing on his face told you otherwise. Your frustration quickly fizzled, instead turning into something closer to pity, “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he deadpanned, “Let’s just get back to our common rooms.” You walked together in silence until you had no choice but to split off. You agreed to meet each other in the courtyard during lunch the next day and you were racking your brain on how you were going to break this news to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. When you broke the news to your friends about who your soulmate ended up being it wasn’t exactly well received. Hermione was worried, but understanding of the fact that you had no choice in the matter. Harry was upset, but again was trying his best to be mature and said he wouldn’t interfere with you spending some time with Mattheo to get to know him better. Ron took it the worst, which you wished surprised you but he did have a flair for the dramatics.

You were first waiting for Mattheo on a bench in the courtyard, but you couldn’t stop your legs from bouncing, therefore you found a place beneath a tree, attempting to read the same three lines of a book Hermione had loaned you the other day.

When Mattheo found you and finally sat down next to you, you shut your book immediately, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank Godric, you’re here.” It didn’t go unnoticed by you the way a pair of dimples christened his cheeks, “Miss me already, pretty girl? S’barely been twelve hours.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, trying to resist the pink that tinted your cheeks at the nickname he used, “Not at all, I’ve been sitting here for the better part of twenty minutes, mind you. Thought maybe you decided to ditch me.” Mattheo shrugged, “M’always late. You’re gonna have to get used to that. And I would never ditch you, we’re soulmates, love. You’re stuck with me for life.”

He had a childlike grin on his face when he said that latter part and you couldn’t help the slight notion of butterflies that seemed to flutter in your stomach or the smile that appeared on your face.

All last night you thought it was going to be difficult to fall for Mattheo, but maybe the universe knew something when it paired you two together.

“So how did your friends take the news?” You tried to keep voice neutral, but you really were worried about their responses. Mattheo leaned back against the tree, “They were shocked for sure, Draco took it the hardest. He was more worried about having to spend more time with Potter than me being with you though. Told him that would probably be more rare than he anticipated. W’bout yours?”

You nodded, “Not as bad as I thought, actually. Mione was understanding, as always. Harry was actually pretty good about it, but very skeptical. Ron actually took it the worst, but he’s just protective. Basically like me brother.”

“How d’ya mean?”

You leaned back against the tree yourself, shoulder to shoulder now with Mattheo. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and you wondered if his skin was always warm to the touch, “Both my parents are aurors so they travel a lot. They didn’t think it was safe for me to go with them, so Ron’s mum offered for me to stay at theirs whenever it was needed. Turns out it was needed more times than not growing up.”

Mattheo nodded, listening intently as you spoke. You both started asking surface questions about each other; favorite color (he said black), favorite hobby (quidditch), favorite class (free period).

When both your friend groups came looking for you after lunch period Mattheo asked if you would go to Hogsmead with him over the weekend. You agreed, finding yourself wanting to get to know more about him. Over the next two months you went to Hogsmead with Mattheo at least one day during each weekend.

You slowly learned that his favorite candy was fizzing whizbees, having to stop at Honeydukes every trip for him to grab some. You learned that he was actually very intelligent even though he tried to seem like he wasn't, as he was passing all of his classes even though he skipped half of them. You learned that even though Draco was older than him, he felt like an older brother to his cousin. And maybe your favorite thing that you learned, purely on accident, was that if you squeeze just above his hip that he was incredibly ticklish.

Throughout all of this you still hadn’t kissed. You kept telling yourself (and your friends) that you didn’t want to, but the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for it. There were times of lingering touches; his hand on your lower back as he guided you into a building, his fingertips brushing yours as you walked, his leg pressing against yours while you sat next to each other in the courtyard or at the Three Broomsticks.

Hermione, the ever observant friend that she was, noticed your shift in attitude towards Mattheo even before you did. So when she cornered you in the common room, demanding you tell her your true feelings it was almost a relief to let it all out.

“I think I might actually like him, Mione. Like, I know that sounds like something an insane person would say, that they like Mattheo Riddle, like romantically, like someone who isn’t just some daft bimbo, but there's just so much more to him that he lets people see.”

Hermione can’t help but laugh, “I get what you mean. Harry and Ron are coming around, you know. They see how happy you look when you’re with him.”

You tilt your head slightly at this, “What do you mean how happy I look?”

Hermione just shakes her head with a smile, “Like you’re with your person.” You can’t escape the blush that creeps up your neck and covers your cheeks. Hermione’s giggling at you now, “Have you still not kissed him yet?”

You scoffed, “Godric, no.” She pushed your shoulder playfully, “Well why not, y/n/n? Don’t you want to?”

You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers, “I mean…I think so? But he just hasn’t really…gone for it, you know?”

She nodded in solidarity, “Oh I know, trust me. I had to make the first move with Ronald. Maybe you have to do the same thing?”

You contemplated her words. They invaded a space in your brain for the rest of the night, then the rest of the next morning, and through dinner, and even now as you stood leaning against the railing in the astronomy tower waiting for Mattheo to meet you.

When you heard him coming up the steps you turned only to see him with the sweetest smile on his face. “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted as he enveloped you in a hug. “Hi, Teo,” you had donned the nickname on him your third or so time at Hogsmead. He gave you a good squeeze before letting go, his arms still lingering on your waist with yours around his neck, “What’d you wanna talk about?”

His question was innocent, no implications in his voice that he expected anything beyond you wanting to see him. With Hermione’s advice in the back of your head you knew you needed to just act, as any more talking might lead to you psyching yourself out.

You slid your hands down from his neck, grasping lightly to the lapel of his blazer. He raised his eyebrows slightly at the action, the smallest of smirks on his face.

Without giving yourself time to overthink you pull him into you, lips crashing against yours. He’s shocked at first, but just for a moment before he responds, walking you back until you’re pressed against the stone wall.

One of his hands slides up your body, ghosting over your stomach and the valley of your breasts before settling lightly on your neck. The implication of the hand gesture makes you whimper slightly and Mattheo takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your hands find his hair, tugging lightly at the curls.

When he finally pulls away you find yourself chasing his lips and he smiled at the reaction. “I think I could kiss you forever,” his forehead is resting against yours, lips still so close you can feel his breath on your own. “Yeah?” you laugh a little, smile only increasing when he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Yeah, pretty girl. Forever.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #golden era #harry potter

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jpitha · 5 months

Text

Vocal Mimicry and Ear Worms

Every time the drink machine finished, it played a little song.

It was pretty simple, less than 10 notes, but it was the same song, every time.

It wasn't even that it played the same song every time. It wasn't even that everyone on the ship - except the humans - got a drink from the machine.

The song was catchy.

Peg started it. She just found her self whistling the "drink finished" song one day. "beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep." She couldn't help it.

Then, Kelly picked it up. The song worked its way into her head too. She'd be working at her station and suddenly she'd be struck by an intense need to sing the song.

After about three cycles, every single human on the ship was singing it. Normally, this would be chalked up by the rest of the crew as "just another strange Human thing" but the problem was that it was the 'drink finished' song. Everyone onboard was conditioned to want to go get their drink when the song was done.

The humans could mimic is perfectly.

"beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep."

Captain Flowing River Rapid's feathers fluffed in irritation. Two people on the Command Deck got three quarters of the way out of their seats before they realized what they were doing and sat back down, sheepish. "Desmond! What have I said about mimicing the drink finished melody?"

Desmond ducked his head at the reproach. "Sorry Captain River, I couldn't help it. It's just so catchy."

Captain River clacked his beak. "It wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact that you can all mimic the sound so well."

Desmond turned and looked at the Captain. "What? We are? We're singing it, but it doesn't sound exactly like the drink machine."

The Captain pointed at Desmond accusingly. "Don't deny it! You're all singing the song at all times of the cycle! You know that everyone thinks a drink is ready when you do it. You sound exactly like the machine!"

One of the Sefigans who got partially up from their station nods quickly, their antenna bobbing. "Captain River is correct, Des. You all really sound a lot like the drink machine. How are you doing it?"

Desmond shrugged. "I mean, we heard the song, and it gets like, stuck in our heads. Singing it feels like one way to get it out. Plus, it's fun to sing Kel. Fun to make sounds."

Kel's wing covers clack. "Can you mimic other things?"

"I don't know Kel, I don't really think of myself as a mimic. There are others who can do it much better than me. Some humans made a whole career out of it."

"That sounds like a thing I human would do, yes. But what about your Des? Let's see...." Kel looks down at their station. "What about this?"

Kes runs a test for the collision alarm. It's a warbling rising and falling tone."

Des thinks for a second and sings - for him - a pretty close approximation.

Captain River gasps and leans back in his chair. "How do you do that?"

Desmond wails. "It wasn't even that good! I just heard the tones and repeated them."

Kelly entered the Command Deck just then. She was carrying a pad and her overalls looked stained. "Captain River, I've just come to report tha-"

"Kelly! Mimic the collision alarm"

"What? Um.." Kelly makes the same noise."

Now, everyone on the Command Desk gasps. Kelly is taken aback and looks at Desmond. "What's going on Des?"

Desmond sighs. "They say we're all mimics. It started with the drink machine."

"Oh that. I still can't get it out of my head! 'beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep.'"

Kes starts to rise from his seat again and catches himself, and sits back down swearing.

#humans are deathworlders #writing #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

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luveline · 4 months

Note

You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.

Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.

No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!

thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

cw violence and injury

You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me.

This is decidedly not fine.

You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub.

I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt?

Breath warms your ear. “Boo.”

The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them.

You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.

Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”

A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away—

You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch.

“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts.

“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!”

You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.

“Oh,” you mumble queasily.

The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask.

Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown.

“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks.

“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow.

“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.”

You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily.

“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?”

“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.”

Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off.

“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.”

“My head is swimming.”

Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you.

“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere.

“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.”

Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?”

“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask.

“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.”

“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.”

Tara grins. “Your funeral.”

You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers.

“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful.

Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.”

“What?”

His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.”

“I'm sorry.”

Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.”

“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.”

“Oh, well,” you say tiredly.

Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur.

You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.”

He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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luv4-liv · 2 months

Text

❝First time❞

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: Smut. +18. First time (hers). He's older (only two years, but, you know). Unprotected sex (do not do it please¡!).

Summary: You and him have a secret relationship, because he is two years older than you, and in fact, he is your brother's best friend. So, this is the first time they have had sex, basically..

The plot of this One Shot is totally mine and my imagination.

I have changed my W account, so you can find this in Spanish in my new wattpad account (delicateew)

Remember that English is not my language so it may contain several errors, please be patient with me

Don't translate this, or adapt it, or anything like that into Spanish, I'll do it, because it's my language. Thank you!

And I want to apologize for being inactive for too long, just things happened to keep me busy, so so sorry:(

(that's not my gif)

____ was in her room, Theo sitting in the desk chair, reading a book for one of his exams, and she on top of him, her face hidden in his neck.

"Fuck, I already read twenty pages and none of the information stuck in my head."

The girl closed her eyes and stroked the opposite's hair.

"You're going to get frustrated and stressed and it's going to make you sick. Relax and go back to reading them patiently.."

"I have no choice..." she let out a sigh and continued reading the book.

Minutes later, she felt his hand fall heavily on her thigh, but she said nothing.

She opened her eyes as he began to caress her thigh, it felt like tickling, but strange.

She began to hold her breath the moment he squeezed it and began to sink his fingers into it.

It felt strangely good.

Theodore gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate on the book, but every time he felt her breath on his neck or her leg brushing against him, it was getting harder and harder.

He tried to ignore it but to no avail. Finally, he closed the book and set it aside, sighing deeply.

"I can't concentrate like this with you.." she murmured, bending down to stroke his cheek. Nott leaned closer, his lips barely brushing hers before he pulled back with a smile. "I really just can't resist you."

He kissed her slowly, placing his hand carefully on her neck.

He moved his hand up to her jaw, pulling her away from the kiss and ran his face to the side gently, so he could gain access and kiss her neck.

Theo gasped against her neck, running his lips along her soft skin. He tightened his fingers around her waist, letting out a choked breath when she tugged on his hair lightly.

His lips moved to her face again and kissed her.

She let out a barely audible moan as she felt his bulge grow between her legs.

Realizing it, he pulled away from her quickly.

"Fuck, I'm sorry.."

She denied, thinking about what he would answer her.

"I want to."

He looked up at the sound and suppressed a smile to look more serious.

"Are you sure...you don't have to, ____"

"Theo.. I really want to, I promise."

The Slytherin looked into her eyes, seeing that she was serious.

His lips curved into a slow smile. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and then began to unbutton her shirt, until it was off, revealing her bra.

He removed his own shirt and reconnected their lips. The hufflepuff closed her eyes, accepting his kiss. His tongue entered her mouth and ____ let herself be swept up in the moment.

Nott's hands traveled down her back, until they reached the clasp of her bra. He stood there for a few seconds until he managed to remove it, getting rid of it.

He knew she would feel embarrassed and insecure, so he preferred to continue kissing her to make her feel comfortable.

He got up from the chair, carrying her over to the bed and laid her down there.

Theo looked at ____ and slowly removed her skirt and underwear, after that, he unbuttoned her pants letting them fall down along with her boxers and moved even closer, brushing his member against her intimacy while he started to leave kisses all over her face, until he stopped at her lips.

Their lips joined in a deep kiss, with one of his hands he positioned his member at her entrance while with the other he caressed her cheek to soothe her.

Then, she parted the kiss as she felt him slowly enter, he for his part, continued to leave kisses on her cheek and neck as a way of soothing her.

Soon, he was completely inside. He was so careful and gentle that she barely felt a little sting, but it didn't hurt.

"You tell me when you're ready, my sweet." he said waiting for permission to continue or if she felt uncomfortable, to leave things just there.

"You can move now.." he whispered, trying to get used to the strange sensation.

Theo, without taking his eyes off her, slowly, began to move slightly, prioritizing that she was comfortable and felt safe.

When he saw her satisfied face, he began to increase his speed and intensity, but without allowing himself to be so rough or go at the pace he wanted, so as not to hurt her.

Still, ____ began to feel increasing pleasure.

She felt him going in and out so satisfyingly, it felt incredibly good, it was like nothing else in the world.

As it was all happening, she began to scratch his back, and somehow that turned him on more.

He with his hands fixed on her hips, spreading kisses down her neck and leaving several marks along the way.

Theo let out a moan of pleasure that was impossible to contain. His rhythm became louder and faster, feeling himself getting closer to the edge.

"Merlin, I love you so much.."

He felt her walls tighten around him and seconds later he felt her cum.

It took only a couple more thrusts to stop, withdraw from inside her and cum, dripping into her abdomen.

"Oh, Merlin..." she relaxed her body and closed her eyes completely exhausted.

"Oh, my sweet, you can't fall asleep like this, let's clean you up first." he said stroking her hair.

____ felt like sleeping a lot, she didn't know if it was just because it was the first time, but if she closed her eyes for a moment more, she wasn't going to open them for a couple of hours..

"Although I admit you look pretty all smeared with my cum." he laughed

"Theo!" she rolled her eyes smiling.

She'd had her first time.

And she was pretty sure no one could have done it better than he did.

#one shot #+18 content #harry potter #harry potter smut #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #slytherin #slytherpuff #hufflepuff #slytherin boys #slytherin boys react #harry potter oneshot #theodore nott oneshot #wattpad #lorenzo zurzolo

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imbored1201 · 4 months

Note

Would you be okay okay with writing a pernille x Magda x platonic!reader fic. Maybe sick fic?

Another one with Barca where teen!reader gets sick or injuried

In both reader plays for Sweden so she knows Frido when she joined Barca

Barca’s Sick Teenager

A/n: The Magda and Pernille fic is currently in the works right now. I also have COVID rn, so I’ve been stuck in my room, so sorry if it’s bad, me being in my room all day is driving me crazy right now and I cannot think properly anymore

-There’s also a lot of motherly Alexia with some Olga since Ik you guys love motherly Alexia

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up

Word Count: 1,427

Alexia was ready to start her day, dreading the idea of having to wake you because she couldn’t trust you to wake up to your alarm, it was a warning she got from Fridolina. According to her, you never woke up to your alarm when you guys shared a room during camp, but to her surprise you were already up and dressed. "Did you do something?" She asked, and you looked at her confused. "You're only productive like this when you do something wrong."

"I just woke up early and couldn't fall back asleep." Not only did you wake up early, you also threw up. You felt disgusted, so you decided to take a nice, hot shower.

When you got out, you threw up a second time. You're pretty sure the hot shower made everything worse, but it did feel good. Alexia could see something was up, considering you looked a little pale.

"You want me to make you eggs?" She asked you, and you quickly shook your head. Just thinking about food made you want to throw up again.

"I'm not hungry," she gave you a stern stare. "You're not leaving without eating; I'm not going to have my child pass out on the field because she didn't eat; it'll make me seem like a bad mom." You rolled your eyes at that.

Everyone kept calling Alexia your mom; you both hated it. Now she's accepted it and taken on the role.

"Ale, I'm not hungry," you argued again. "Okay, fine, at least eat some grapes or something." You nodded as you grabbed your bag, trying to ignore your headache, which was getting worse.

"Bebita, are you feeling okay?" She asked, noticing the pained expression on your face. You nodded. "Are you sure?" She raised her eyebrows at you. "Yes Ale." She knew that wasn't true, but she also knew you wouldn't admit anything.

—————

You were starting to regret your decision during the car ride; you were sweating but really cold. You ignored Alexia's complaints about having the heater on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked again as she parked the car. "I'm fine Ale; you've asked that like 10 times already." She rolled her eyes, and you quickly got out the car and grabbed your bag. She had another meeting today to look at her knee again, so you were walking by yourself to the locker room, which was a really rare sight.

You groaned as you noticed Pina and Patri smirking right when you entered. They were up to something. "Not today," you told them as you walked past them. Now they looked worried too.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to die," Patri told you as she put an arm around your shoulder. "I'm fine," you told her. "You sure?" Pina asked, and you nodded.

—————

"You look pale," Pina told you once again. You shoved your shirt into your locker. "Pina, please stop talking." She looked offended at that, but surprisingly listened.

The team kept glancing at each other when they noticed your little mood. "Teenage hormones," Salma shrugged as she patted your head and walked out.

—————

It seemed like everyone accepted that since they stopped bothering you, but they were worried once again when they saw how you were struggling to keep up with everything.

————

You groaned in pain as you fell roughly from Irene's tackle. "You okay Bebe?" She questioned, as she turned you onto your back. You were holding your stomach, tears starting to stream down your face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She was panicking now, thinking she hurt you. You shook your head as you started crying harder. "I don't feel good," you sobbed as Irene felt your forehead. "What's wrong?" Mapi rushed over.

"She doesn't feel good," Irene explained. "She's hot." Mapi put a hand on your cheek, "She's sick." Mapi sighed and helped you sit up. Jona was quick to come over as well; the rest of the team stood by but were quickly sent away for a water break.

"You were training while sick?" He asked, looking like he was about to yell at you for being so reckless. It made you miss Alexia now. "I didn't think it was this bad," you cried out, reaching for Irene, who pulled you into her lap and rubbed your back.

Jona was going to stay more, but he was pulled away by Marta. "She's a teenager; they never tell anyone how they're feeling. Let's just get her rested in time for the game," Marta told him.

"Can you stand?" Marta asked cautiously, and you nodded, but once you tried you got dizzy again and held onto Irene tighter. "Lucy!" Irene yelled, and all of a sudden you were being carried.

"You will never hear the end of this from Alexia," you leaned your head to her shoulder. "Don't start," you muttered, closing your eyes. You were cold, exhausted, and sweaty. A warm shower sounded nice to you again.

—————

You were so close to sleeping, but it was interrupted when someone put a wet cloth on your forehead. "Leave it," Frido told you, noticing your annoyed expression. "How many people are in this room besides us?" You asked, and Frido looked around for a second. "5", “Don’t tell Magda” Frido thought for a second. “I’m not because she’ll call me a bad babysitter”

"Donde esta?!" You heard Alexia shout. "Make that 6," she gave you a sympathetic look and quickly moved out of Alexia's way as she stormed to you two.

"This has got to be the dumbest thing you've done," she muttered as she grabbed the medicine and granola bar from Lucy. "Eat and take this after. Then we're getting you home and your bed ridden until your for sure better."

"What about training?" Her glare was enough of an answer for you. You saw Lucy holding in her laugh. "Kid, if you want to make it to the game this weekend, listen to the captain." You nodded and ate your granola bar. When it was time to take your medicine, it didn't go well. You knew Lucy enjoyed it though.

————

Safe to say you passed out on the ride back. It was the first time you actually gave Alexia peace.

You only woke up towards the end of the car ride, having occasional cough attacks. Alexia honestly thought she would have to take you to the hospital.

————

"Olga!" You shouted happily, she smiled at you and pulled you into a hug, feeling your head. "She went to training sick; she's an actual idiot," Alexia ranted as she put your bag on the ground.

"Alexia, don't call her an idiot," Olga said sternly as she guided you to the couch. "She had Lucy hold me down and suffocate me," you told Olga as you grabbed a blanket. "Alexia!"

"She wouldn't take the medicine," Alexia defended herself. "Doesn't mean you suffocate the poor girl" Olga turned to you. "I'll make soup for you; get some rest," she turned to Alexia. Giving her a dirty look. "She wouldn't open her mouth; holding her nose was the only thing that worked; she even ignored my promises to get her ice cream."

Alexia grabbed another wet cloth before Olga could make another comment. When she came back, you were already dead to the world. Curled up on the sofa, she shook you a bit. "Bebita, you should go to your bed; it'll be comfier."

"To far," you slurred. Alexia sighed and picked you up. She tucked you in bed and put the cloth on your head.

"Sorry for lying," you sleepily mumbled, holding her hand. She gently rubbed your back to put you back to sleep. "It's okay. Get some rest. I'll wake you when the food is done." She leaned down to kiss your cheek and watched as you fell back into a deep sleep.

————

Alexia collapsed on the couch next to Olga. "She's asleep"

"You're good with her, even though you look like you want to murder her half the time." "She loves to give me heart attacks, but I love her. She's my kid." Olga gave Alexia a look.

"Our kid," Alexia corrected, finally opening the team group chat. Everyone was asking about you. Marta and Irene even declared they were going later to your guys place to take care of you.

Alexia knew she would probably have to get extra blankets since they would likely end up staying the night.

————

And that's exactly what happened; Marta even dragged Caroline along, and Mapi, Ingrid, and Lucy showed up unannounced later on. You seemed to like the attention though. You even made Mapi and Ingrid go get you your favorite treats so you could eat after your sickness passed.

#woso x reader #woso community #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #woso #fridolina rolfö #alexia putellas #irene paredes #claudia pina #patri guijarro #marta torrejon #lucy bronze

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disneyprincemuke · 6 months

Text

long story short * fem!driver

the aftermath of best dress

(series masterlist) | (📂 a day in the life)

the door swings open, revealing the girl in her pajamas, hair in a ponytail with her makeup completely wiped off. “seriously? you couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

“nope,” logan says, pushing past her to enter the hotel room. he slips his shoes off and immediately jumps into her bed where the phone is. “what do you think they’re serving? think they’ve got nachos?”

“no,” oscar shakes his head.

“why not?” logan frowns. “what kind of food will they have?”

“it’s 2 in the morning,” oscar rolls his eyes, “normal people don’t order room service for food at 2am.”

logan simply shakes his head before looking at the girl again. “you didn’t invite him up with you?”

“we’ve got a race,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she closes the door behind oscar. “and hey, i’m not like that on the first date!”

oscar shrugs, grinning at her. “we never assumed that. why are you so defensive?”

he kicks his shoes off and rips the duvet from her queen size bed, crawling under before he takes a pillow into his arms.

she stands back, absolutely shocked at her friends. even after being friends for almost a decade, their audacity never fails to throw her offguard.

“well, this is my room,” she mutters, pushing the boys’ legs to separate ends of the bed. “make some space.”

she crawls in the small spot between them, only for oscar to reach forward and push her back gently. “you sit at the foot of the bed. you’re doing the debrief,” oscar giggles, wrestling away her hands fighting him back.

“you wish!” she shrieks, reaching forward to flick his forehead.

she squeezes herself between the two, climbing under the duvet and resting her head on logan’s shoulder. logan adjusts slightly, trying to slowly read the menu in the dim environment of the room.

oscar just sits back, eyes closing. “i’m going to fall asleep if you don’t start talking.”

“he’s very sweet,” she beams, largest smile on her face that they’ve seen on her in a while. “a gentleman.”

“that’s good,” logan mutters.

“and very tall,” she sighs. “he’s almost too tall.”

“for you,” oscar corrects her.

“for me,” she agrees with a small nod.

“anything for you guys?” logan offers, holding the menu out to the other side. “i’m getting chicken wings.”

“chicken tenders.”

“just a coke for me,” she answers.

logan swiftly turns, reaching for the phone, dropping her head in the process. she frowns at the sudden movement, shuffling around to comfortable rest her head on oscar’s arm now.

“seeing him again?” oscar asks.

logan’s whispers consume the dimly lit room with her breathing steady and soft. oscar lifts his head, looking at the girl staring into the room blankly.

“no,” she says just barely above a whisper, shaking her head.

“i’m sorry, kid,” oscar sighs. he reaches over to pat her head and ruffles her hair. “how come?”

“i don’t have the time to be dating around right now,” she shrugs, pressing her lips together. “i’ve got more important things; i’m too busy.”

logan puts the phone down, lying back down with them. “did you at least have fun?”

“of course,” she grins. “it was a long distance relationship, anyway. i don’t have it in myself for that. i need me a wag who can follow me around.”

“that’s not a wag, that’s a personal assistant,” logan states, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“okay, then retire faster so i can hire you as my pa,” she jokes, smacking his thigh lightly. “can’t leave you without a job.”

“how considerate,” oscar mutters. “seriously, though. i’m sorry it didn’t work out. there’ll be better guys than jacob elordi.”

she nods as silence now engulfs them. oscar slides down the bed, resting his head on top of hers as he slowly drifts off the sleep. logan’s now on his phone, scrolling on instagram while she’s stuck underneath the australian’s heavy head.

the decision to reject jacob elordi’s prompt for a second date wasn’t easy, but it’s a much expected response. with her rookie career finally kicking off in formula 1, the added pressure of upkeeping a relationship is too much.

she feels a weight on her arm, logan taking it upon himself to rest his head on her.

“if harry styles were younger, i bet he’d date you,” logan mutters suddenly. “just like if i’d been born earlier, i’d definitely be megan fox’s boyfriend.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @inejismywife @2bormaybenot

#f1 fem!driver #female driver #vettle reincarnate #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke f1

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chimielie · 1 year

Text

girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader angst to fluff #haikyuu hurt/comfort

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pocketjoong · 6 months

Text

❥𓂃𓏧EARLY MORNINGS

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You wake up to find Hongjoong in your studio. What started with you helping Hongjoong, turns into an unexpected confession from the idol himself.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Hongjoong x afab!producer!Reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): friends/co-workers to lovers. idiots in love.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) smut. pwp. use of pet names (princess, love, etc). choking. oral (f!recieveing). orgasm denial. soft joongie. joongie is whipped. lmk if I am missing something. MDNI.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 3.3k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) Happy Hongjoong Day everyone!! I wanted to write something sappy, but I'll just keep it to myself, mostly bc I really don't have the words to express my admiration and love for this precious little human. So, if you enjoy this, please do consider reblogging or leaving feedback! shoutout to @joong-of-gold for beta reading this! TYSM

You awaken to the distant, muffled rumble of thunder, a gentle intrusion on the stillness of your soundproof studio. The first glimmer of awareness reveals the early morning hour, for light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow throughout the room, but the sun is nowhere to be seen. You can also tell that it rained a few minutes back because you can see the wet streaks on the window and the fog that lingers outside.

In the haze between wakefulness and sleep, you realise that you are covered with a jacket that is definitely not yours. Inhaling deeply, you catch the scent of familiar cologne that clings to the soft material. Your gaze shifts, and sure enough, you spot him seated on your chair, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the computer screens. Hongjoong looks beautiful in the soft light of your studio, akin to an angel, as he works on something you’re unable to discern from the couch. You blink away the remnants of sleep, confused as to why Hongjoong is using your studio when he has his own a couple of doors away.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice is a mere whisper in the silence of the studio as you sit up, absentmindedly watching the way his jacket falls and pools onto your lap.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake?” Hongjoong leans back into the chair, his fingers running through his recently dyed hair, which appears somewhat tousled as if he'd been frustratedly tugging at the strands. His hair is a dirty blonde and way shorter than it was when you saw him yesterday morning, a few inches away from being a buzz cut, but it suits him well. But then, you suppose he looks good in all hairstyles. After all, you’re yet to see him in one he’s unable to pull off.

Your curiosity is piqued, and you tilt your head as you regard Hongjoong, noting the fatigue etched across his features. A quick glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s just past five in the morning, prompting you to wonder how long he has been in the building. Given that the last time you checked, the time was before 4 a.m., it dawns on you that he must have entered your studio sometime within the past hour. The realisation that he didn't return to the dorms last night tugs at your heart, and a sigh escapes at the thought as worry for him grips your heart.

“Sorry for barging in unannounced,” Hongjoong begins, his voice carrying slight remorse. “I was working on something, but then I got stuck. I thought being here would provide some inspiration... But..." He trails off, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. As he begins to rise up from your chair, you quickly shake your head to signal him to remain seated.

"Just," you reply with a sigh, pushing yourself off the couch and stretching, wincing at the satisfying crack of your joints. "Lemme freshen up and get some caffeine into my system. Would you like some?"

Hongjoong politely declines with a shake of his head, already returning his attention to the screens. “It’s fine. I had a cup about twenty minutes ago.”

“Mmhkay,” you mumble as you exit the studio to wash up. Upon your return, you feel notably more alert, though you're confident that a cup of strong coffee will definitely help you more. You search the closet for the coffee grounds, tiptoeing to reach the packet.

“You know, you look…” Hongjoong’s voice trails off, his gaze sweeping over your figure as though he's searching for a gentler way to phrase his thoughts. You've barely managed an hour of sleep in the past 48 hours, and you’re sure exhaustion has taken its toll.

“Like a mess?” You interject with a wry chuckle, playfully finishing his sentence while switching on the coffee machine.

“Nah, you're too pretty for that,” he smirks, causing you to roll your eyes in response, even though his words send a delightful pang through your heart. “But you look like you haven’t been getting much sleep, which is surprising since you were in dreamland when I arrived.”

“That's because I haven’t,” you admit, watching the coffee streaming into the cup you've placed beneath the machine. You hum happily when the smell of coffee permeates the room, making you relax further. “If you don't count the one-hour nap I managed after finishing that video call.”

"Video call?" Hongjoong echoes, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yeah, there's this American band that's eager to collaborate on a track with me, so we were hashing out the details until the wee hours, around four a.m.,” you explain, picking up the cup of coffee and turning to look at Hongjoong, who now appears to be deeply engrossed in the contents on the computer screen. “You sure you don't want some coffee, Joong-ah?”

"Mhmm, I’m good," he responds, brows furrowed as his attention is momentarily diverted by your offer.

You nod, even though he can’t see it and take a sip from the cup, savouring the rejuvenating warmth. It breathes life back into your tired form, revitalising you in a matter of moments. Crossing the studio, you lean against the wall, observing as Hongjoong plays with the sounds.

You both share a quiet moment, with Hongjoong immersed in his work and you taking intermittent sips of your coffee. In the silence of the studio, your thoughts drift back to the day Eden introduced the two of you. Despite being Hongjoong's age, you had already earned a degree in music production and established a modest reputation in both the Korean and Western music scenes. Eden had recognised your talent and had been quick to scout you, asking if you'd like to work for KQ. It was an appealing proposition, one that offered you the flexibility to pursue personal projects without forfeiting your earnings from outside ventures. So you had agreed without any hesitation.

Not long after, the older man introduced you to Hongjoong. You had already heard of him, the sole trainee at KQ for several months, eager to delve into the realm of music production. So, Eden entrusted you with the task of guiding Hongjoong’s musical journey since you had a professional degree. Although you were initially hesitant, circumstances conspired, and over time, a strong friendship blossomed between the two of you.

“So,” you begin, finally setting down your half-empty cup of coffee on the cabinet on noticing Hongjoong’s visible frustration. “What's got you all worked up?”

“I want to remix a track for the new album,” he replies, gesturing toward the computer screen in a state of vexation. “I had this vision when Eden hyung told me about it, but nothing seems to click.”

“Can I see what you’ve done so far?” You inquire, moving closer to lean over his shoulder, regarding the screen with pursed lips. You hold out your hand, requesting for the headphones. When Hongjoong doesn't immediately pass them to you, you turn to face him, only to find him peering at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression inscrutable. In a sudden, surprising move, he pulls you onto his lap, eliciting an involuntary squeak from you and a hearty laugh from the mischievous idol.

“Sorry, love,” he says, though there is a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. “It'll be easier for both of us this way.”

He removes the headphones from around his neck and allows you to wear them before pressing play. As the music fills your ears, you’re acutely aware of Hongjoong’s arms encircling your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. Despite the delightful distraction, you focus your attention on the remixes he's crafted thus far. It becomes evident why he's been wrestling with frustration; each track seems to lack the spark that’s needed for them to stand out.

“Did you have any other ideas?” you ask, swallowing hard as he nonchalantly shrugs while still entwined with you. His movement causes his chest to press against your back, and you can’t help but be flustered. You knew that he had been working out, but actually feeling his defined muscles beneath his shirt is a different sensation.

“Not really,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear as he responds.

“Hmm,” you hum, doing a run-through of ATEEZ’s songs and attempting to conceive something more fitting while nestled against the group's leader. The endeavour turns out to be a more difficult enterprise than you initially anticipated. But you won’t complain; after all, he isn’t one to indulge in casual skinship, so you attribute it to sheer exhaustion and his mounting irritation. “I don't know if you've considered this... but there might be something that could work. Remember the beats I shared with you last week?”

“Do you mean this one?” he responds by humming a fragment of the track you had shared with him. With his chin still resting on your shoulder, his lips linger perilously close to your ear. You muster every ounce of restraint not to shiver pleasantly at his honey voice. “I had thought about it initially, but I didn’t want to use it without asking you.”

“Allow me to give it a try. I’m not entirely convinced either,” you assert, clearing your throat as you carefully get off Hongjoong’s lap. Retrieving your coffee mug, you lift it to your lips for a sip to regain your composure. Yet, in the very next moment, Hongjoong deftly snatches the mug from your grasp and takes a sip himself, letting out a light chuckle as your eyes widen in astonishment. You could swear you catch a whisper of “so cute” slipping from his lips under his breath, but you can’t be entirely certain, as he surely wouldn’t utter such words about you. Or would he?

Opting to dive into work, you retrieve the laptop and settle onto the couch, immersing yourself in the process. Lost in the task at hand, you’re completely unaware of Hongjoong’s intense gaze on you. It is only after you have a basic idea ready that you glance up and freeze. Shifting awkwardly in your seat for a brief moment, you bite your lips before patting the vacant space beside you on the couch. Silently, you press play as he takes his place by your side, watching him curiously as he focuses on the music filling the room.

“Wow,” Hongjoong breathes when he's done listening to the raw remix you’ve created. It's nothing extraordinary, merely an attempt to know if you’re going in the right direction, but the way his eyes sparkle as he looks at you tells you that you’ve struck gold. Before you know it, his lips are lightly grazing your cheek in a tender kiss, his proximity allowing his nose to gently brush against your skin.

It should alarm you, how quickly you’re melting into his touch, so easily giving into him. This feels inappropriate; you're coworkers first, friends second, and you're uncertain about the ethical implications, considering you both work for the same company. But as he nuzzles into your cheek, all rational thoughts fly out of the window.

“Damn it, Y/N,” you shiver at the rawness in his voice. “You're so cruel. How am I supposed to contain my feelings for you when every time I convince myself I'm content with just being your friend, you do something like this, and I'm head over heels for you all over again?”

“Hongjoong,” Your voice is breathy, and the way you say his name with a gasp almost sounds like a prayer.

He swears, drawing you closer and gazing into your eyes with an intense longing that leaves you wordless, “Don't say my name like that if you don’t want me to kiss you senseless.”

“Who's stopping you?” You whisper, fisting the front of his shirt in your hands, desperately searching for something to ground yourself.

Eagerly, he closes the distance, lips meeting yours with an ardour that takes you by surprise. He nips at your bottom lip, and you feel your resolve crumble. You allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth. As he pulls you onto his lap, you straddle him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, drawing him closer. Abruptly, Hongjoong breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes, closing his eyes when you shake your head. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Joong,” you murmur, cradling his face between your hands, your lips finding his jaw. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’d planned on asking you out on a date first, to be honest.”

You giggle at both the unexpected confession and his endearing hesitance, causing him to pout in response. You understand where he’s coming from; he’s usually steadfast, not easily swayed by desire or impulse, but it appears that his usual unwavering patience is slowly unravelling.

“We can do that later, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Although, if you're not comfortable going further, we can stop.”

Hongjoong shakes his head, his lips finding yours once more in a slow, sensual kiss. “I want you,” he mumbles between each lingering kiss. “I always have.”

His words elicit a whimper from you, and you grind your hips against him, causing the denim of his jeans to rub deliciously against your aching clit. Gasping at the contact, you meet his gaze, finding his lips swollen and rosy from your kiss, his pupils dilated with desire. The next moment, he pulls away from you and eagerly tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You giggle at his eagerness, “Greedy, are we?”

Hongjoong smirks and leans down to press his lips against the top of your chest, murmuring, “Only for you, my love.”

A quiet moan escapes your lips as your hands find their way into his dishevelled, dirty blonde locks, tugging just hard enough to coax a groan from him. Hongjoong retaliates by sinking his teeth into your neck, biting down gently before withdrawing. When you practically melt into him, he smirks teasingly, “You like that, princess? Want more?”

You nod, gasping as one of his hands darts to your back, skillfully snapping open your bra. His other hand slips to your throat, exerting gentle pressure, almost experimentally, just enough to encourage a deeper breath.

“Mmm. Not like that, doll. Use your words,” Hongjoong pulls away fully, allowing you to see the smouldering desire in his eyes, a sight that sends your head spinning. It takes you a moment to find your voice, long enough for him to caress your cheek with one finger, prompting you to close your eyes. “Don’t leave me hanging, Y/N.”

Your eyelids flutter open, and you gaze at him with a sultry intensity. “I want you to touch me.”

A sly grin curves his lips as he leans in, nipping your lower lip provocatively. “See, now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it, princess?”

You let out a whine as his thumbs rub over your breasts, teasingly tracing patterns. He lowers his head to suck on the skin around your nipple, his lips leaving faint marks. Hongjoong’s mouth is warm and wet, and every time his tongue brushes over your sensitive flesh, your body arches up against his in yearning. When his teeth graze over the tender area, you can’t help but grind against his pulsing erection, desperately needing friction against your clit. “Joong, please.”

“I’ll make you cum, princess. I promise,” he says, offering an innocent smile that contradicts the desire blazing in his eyes.

You're on the verge of delivering a clever retort, but any semblance of wit vanishes when his fingers push your panties aside and plunge into your heat. Your mouth falls agape as his skilled fingertips find the sweet spot deep inside of you, making your toes curl. A primal need stirs within you, and you roll your hips to meet his fingers, and it’s not much later that your legs begin to tremble. You’re close, so close, but just as you're on the cusp of ecstasy, Hongjoong yanks his fingers back, causing you to let out a desperate sob.

He hushes you softly with a soft kiss, his lips a tender apology, “Just a bit more, princess. Can you hold on for a bit longer for me?”

As Hongjoong gently eases you down on the sofa, you notice that he’s still dressed. You pout, tugging at the edge of his shirt, “Joong… off, please?”

“Patience, my dear. I promised I’ll make you cum, didn’t I?” He moves off the couch, pulling you closer to him to spread your folds.

“Fuck—” You arch off the couch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips the second his lips close around your throbbing clit. One of his hands keeps your legs pressed to the side, not allowing you to close them. For what feels like an eternity, he keeps you pinned, fucking you with his tongue and fingers but never allowing the release you so desperately seek. You’re a sobbing, sensitive mess by the time he pulls away for what seems like the hundredth time and sweetly wipes away your tears. It’s not until you hear the crinkling of a condom wrapper that you realise Hongjoong is kneeling on the couch, already undressed and ready.

“You did so well, princess,” he smiles warmly, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly, your voice almost desperate as you implore him, “Please… Joong, yes.”

He takes his time as he eases into your folds, knowing that you’re sensitive and you’re grateful for his consideration. Once he’s fully inside of you, he withdraws slowly, repeating the motion with a gentleness that leaves you breathless. Your nails dig into his shoulders, pulling him to you as you yearn to be as close to him as possible.

“Y/N, my love.” Hongjoong coaxes your eyes open gently, his eyes filled with concern. “Loosen up, please. I won’t be able to move otherwise.”

Taking a shaky breath, you relax, prompting him to smile. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

He slowly works up a rhythm, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel your high approaching. Sensing that you’re close, his warm fingers close around your throat to apply just the right amount of pressure. You clench around him in response, making him moan, deep and loud, as his eyes roll back.

“That’s it, princess,” he whispers, his hands trailing down to rub at your clit while he thrusts in and out slowly. His eyes draw shut as he revels in the sounds of your moans, your words unclear as you gasp out his name. “Will you cum for me, Y/N? Hm?”

You finally snap, your body feeling like fire as you succumb to pleasure. Hongjoong grabs you to keep you still. “You feel incredible, princess.,” he gasps, voice laced with desire. “You’re so good for me.”

All the sensations are too much for him, and he curses, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sounds of both of your moans before Hongjoong collapses on top of you, showering affectionate kisses on your face and neck.

For a brief moment, neither of you utters a word, still caught in the hazy aftermath. Your legs feel like jelly, and you’re still a bit woozy, so you simply watch as Hongjoong eases back. He ties off the condom and drops it into the trash can near the door, dressing quickly. Then, he returns to you with damp tissues that he borrowed from your cupboard. “Are you okay, love? Feeling sore?” He inquires, concern evident in his gentle voice.

“A little, but it was absolutely worth it. I knew you had it in you,” you tease, playfully winking at him, and both of you share a tired yet content chuckle.

“Good,” he responds with a warm smile, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Do you need anything?”

“Cuddles?” You pout, gazing up at Hongjoong.

“Anything my princess wants, she gets.”

#cromernet #k-labels #wonderlandnet #kvanity #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut

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chrisevansonly · 3 months

Text

Daddy Daughter Time (Lando & Poppy Universe)

ʚ lando norris x female reader

ʚ when the sun sets and you’re settled in bed with your favourite cup of tea and tv show, lando has what he likes to call ‘daddy-daughter time’

ʚ very fluffy sweet dad to be lando, lando being sassy as usual

ʚ i lied here’s a little pre poppy blurb for you guys, i wanted to get something out since you’re all so sweet to me and this idea has been stuck in my head

Your favourite show of the moment right now Suits, played softly through the speakers and surround sound system from the TV that rested on the wall in front of your bed. A post shower routine of getting comfy, rubbing the sweet peach scented body oil on your belly as your little girl kicked and moved about.

At almost 7 months pregnant, Lando was obsessed with you, and that belly, ever since it popped all those months ago, he was so irrevocably in love with you, and his little girl.

“Guess what time it is!!” Came his voice from the hallway, causing you to bite back a smile

“Snack time?”

“Ha ha no.”

“I’m sorry what was that Norris?”

Lando then poked his head through the door, if there was one thing he learned it was never ever mess with a pregnant woman; especially if that pregnant woman was his wife.

“Just kidding, I have all sorts of snacks for you my love!”

“That’s what I thought”

You watched as he entered the room with a tray of snacks, wide variety of your cravings and some for him to have while you watched your show together.

“It’s daddy daughter time baby, cmon how could you forget”

“Oh right mhm where my husband shushes me while he and my daughter plot against me”

A scoff left his lips as he placed the tray on the bedside table, for now, before settling on the bed and resting his head right above your bump. A happy sigh leaving his lips as your hand moved to card through his curls gently.

“We don’t plot against you….we just converse about you darling..big difference”

“Mhm”

Reaching over you popped a few skittles into your mouth with your free hand, your focus going back onto the tv as you felt Lando’s hand lay flat under your belly button, his fingers tapping lightly to see if the baby would move.

“Petal you’re not sleeping on daddy are you? We have to have our nightly talk…”

Snorting out a laugh he turned to glare at you, no actual annoyance behind it at all

“Sorry sorry!”

Shaking his head he tapped around your belly a few more times before she kicked right where his hand was.

“Hi little flower…are you being good to mummy today? Not kicking her too hard?”

As if on command she delivered a stronger kick to your rib cage, a swear escaping your lips

“Little devil she is”

“OH no no that’s not nice, mummy called you a little devil baby, you’re not a devil are you”

Smacking his head gently Lando laughed raising his hand in surrender

“Watch it Norris.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You shook your head continuing to snack as Lando leaned up a bit to place a few kisses to the taught skin.

“Mummy is gonna get daddy if i don’t behave, I have to go love on her now, i love you so much petal, same time tomorrow night?”

A pregnant pause fell over the room until he felt a soft kick on his hand

“Okay, same time tomorrow”

It really was sweet hearing Lando talk to the baby every night even if he was quite cheeky about it.

“Are you done giving the little one attention? Cause i’d love some now…”

“Alright alright girls there’s enough of me to go around!”

Rolling your eyes at your husband was a common occurrence these days, but he was quick to move, coming up to press a kiss to your lips, a soft smile on his face.

“You’ve got all my attention darling”

“Good, I was wondering when you two were going to break up your little huddle down there”

Moving the snacks and placing them in between you both, Lando let you get comfy as your head rested on his chest, now it was his turn to dote on you, a hand moving to rub your back gently.

“I love you, even when you’re being cheeky and turning our daughter against me”

“I love you too darling…and I am not turning her against you…”

“I’ve got my hands full with you, I don’t need two diva’s in this house”

At the sound of this Lando bursted out laughing, he couldn’t hold it back at your statement. He knew you weren’t wrong there at all, but that’s what you loved about him.

And you both knew if your daughter was anything like her father, there’d be a lot of sass filling your home very soon.

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charlesswife · 10 months

Text

Una Noche En Monaco v

unem masterlist

5 Dias De Prueba (5-day trial)

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and Charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

word count: 7.6k - not proofread.

April 2023

"Do you wanna come to the next race? I can get you tickets, you can be my guest."

His words replayed in my head like a broken record. Why would I be interested into going to the race in the first place?

As I opened the door of my apartment I was greeted by the smell of something sweet.

I checked the time on my watch. 9:45 pm.

"Isn't it late to be baking Naughty Brownies?" I called from the entrance. I heard a small "Oh no" from Mateo and a "Busted" from Steph.

I heard Mateo's footsteps around the kitchen, "Tia you have to hide me."

"Okay, okay."

As I entered the kitchen, I saw one of the floor cabinets a little open. Steph had a smile on her face.

"Why is Mati awake?" I asked her. I heard a small gasp coming from the cabinet.

"Awake? He's not awake. He's in his bed with Percy." Steph answered, holding her laugh. Just as she said that Percy walked into the kitchen wagging his tail. I petted his face and he licked my hand, then he walked to the slightly open cabinet and stuck his head inside.

Mateo tried to push him away with his tiny hands. "Go away, you're gonna get me caught." He said in a serious tone, the Rottweiler started to lick him as well. In the end, the cabinet door opened, leaving Mateo in full display.

"Oh, Mati. I didn't know that was your new bed. Should've told me before I bought you that big bed you have." I said as I brought the brownie to my lips. Steph loves having slutty brownies before bed, but ever since Mateo was born, we had to change the name to naughty brownies.

He stayed quiet for a second, his green eyes started to gloss. "Am I in trouble?"

He is so cute, I wanted to laugh for a second. "No, mi amor. Come out so you can have a piece and go to bed."

When my mom was alive, she used to say 'When in doubt, leave your destiny in the hands of a coin, flip it and carry on' and while usually I would do it, sometimes I wish she was here to tell me what to do.

Heads - I go to the GP

Tails - I stay

I was never good at flipping coins. All the time I flip it and let it drop to the floor. So that is what I did. I didn’t dare to look down, at least not until the coin stopped circling around the floor.

I picked up the coin. This is my destiny and so be it.

The next day I decided to meet up with Charles, to tell him my answer.

I expect our meeting to be short and easy, so I told him to meet me at a parking lot. It sounds very sketchy now that I think about it.

I saw his car once I got into the parking, I tried to open the door but it was locked - which made sense - I knocked on his window and when he finally saw me he unlocked the door and I got in.

Europeans kiss both cheeks to say hi, and in my culture, we do it just once. But I am not in my country and I do not want to say hi to Charles, let alone kiss me. So when his body approached mine to greet me with kisses I stopped him. His body was close enough that I smelled his perfume. It smelled like a drug... very addicting to the point I wanted t smell more.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It's a habit." he tried to explain.

"Yeah, whatever." I responded. "This is what's going to happen. We are not co-parenting. Mateo is my son, so you don't get a say here. If you really say that you are ready to be a man and be responsible and be a father, that's fine, but you have to prove it. I will decide when is the right time to tell my son you're his father," I saw his Adam's apple go up a bit as if he was nervous.

"His name is Mateo?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"With one T?" My heart stopped for a second. The last time we spoke, he told me he saw a kid in the car, but he never said he met Mateo or even spoke with him to the point he knows his name is with one t.

"How did you know-?"

"Is it really?" his voice was higher this time. "I met him. At the bookstore. And I- I- I felt this connection the moment I saw him, and I asked his name and he said 'Mateo with one T'" His smile is so wide that I wondered for a second if his cheeks hurt.

I stared at him. I don't know if I should curse him out, or simply get out of the car and forget this meeting ever happen, because how dare he say he felt a 'connection'. He's full of shit. "Don't ever say that again. Especially not in front of me. You don't have a connection, you don't know him. I don't know which god or angel is on your side to the point that you found us and you even talked to him. I'm nice enough to actually give you a second chance, but I have my limits, so you better be careful with the things you say."

I took my phone out and opened the Calendar app. "Today is the 19th and most likely you have to be in Baku on the 25th. So you have five days you can spend with Mateo, with me present, of course. If you want to spend time with him, that is."

"Yes! Sorry, yes. Of course." He nodded. "Is it possible to have a dinner with my family? I want my family to know you and Mateo. They don't... they don't really know about any of this,"

"Your family doesn't know about us?" Us meaning Mateo and me, not Charles and I. He shaked his head. "I wouldn't be too worried about your family. If I were you, I would be more concerned about how the public would react to this. The truth will come out sooner or later, and God knows what they are going to say."

His face was blank. He knew I was right, or maybe he was thinking that I would release the information to the public. "I'll protect him. No matter what."

I wanted to say a sarcastic comment but I didn't want to. At least just for today. I saw the way his eyes became a bit red when I told him he doesn't have a connection with Mateo.

He cleared his throat a bit and then he looked me in the eyes. Oh, his big green eyes. "I just want to thank you, for giving me a chance. I will prove to you that I am worthy of you and Mateo." Why is he talking this way?

I texted him the address of my apartment, once it got sent I said, "That's my address, be there at 9:30"

Thursday 20th - Charles' POV

Am I early? Will she be mad that I am early? I stand in front of her door, debating whether I should knock or come back in thirty minutes. Just as I was about to leave the door open.

"Okay, Mati, see you later!" The woman said as she stepped out, she turned around and faced me. "Oh," she looked at her watch and said, "shouldn't you be here in thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, um I wasn't- um I was going to come back in a bit," I said.

"There's no point, you are already here so I might as well let you in. Just go inside and wait, and whatever you do, don't open the curtains." She opened the door again and pushed me inside.

The inside of her apartment was nice, but it makes me wonder how she can afford the place if she only works at a bookstore. I got into the kitchen first, it has an open area that leads to the living room. The tv was on showing a cartoon of what it looked to be a blue cat. On the kitchen counter, I saw what looked to be a tiramisu. I tried to be strong but I am weak when it comes to a good tiramisu.

I quickly found what I needed, a knife, a spoon, and a plate. I don't think Y/n would notice if it just take one tiny little piece. I got ready to cut and I heard someone say.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I looked up and saw him. Mateo. He was beautiful. He made his way toward one of the couches shaped like an L and sat there. "My mami is very protective over her tirmisu and only lets me eat the tirmisu," he said as he mispronounced the name of the dessert, he then looked at me. "You're the guy from the store."

"You remember me?" I asked hopefully.

"I remember you are the guy from the store," he said like it was the most obvious thing.

"Do you remember my name?"

He was quiet for a second. "No, should I?"

His comment did make me sad for a second but then he let out the biggest gap and came running towards me, he put his arms up. "Lift me up,"

My heart is beating so fast, I lifted him up and secured him in my arms. Up close I could see the freckles on his nose, he looks a lot like me. He looked around the kitchen and then he pointed to the microwave. "Take me there. Go, go." Once I did what he asked, he opened the door of the microwave, and inside was a plate of brownies. He took two pieces out and closed the door. "Okay, put me down. Down" He started to squirm in my arms. Once I put him down on the floor, he looked at the brownies in his hands and gave me the smallest piece. "Thank you for the help" He then ran back to the couch to sit down. In front of him was a coffee table, there was paper and crayons all over it.

"Where's your mommy?" I asked him.

"Probably with Percy," he said, without pulling his eyes away from the TV. Who's Percy?

"Do you wanna see my drawing? My mami says I'm the next Picasso," he left the brownie on one side of the table and got one of the papers. I walked to the couch and saw the paper. It was a big house, 4 figure sticks and a small black figure with four legs. "This is Mami," he pointed at the tall figure stick, "This is my tia Steph," he pointed at the second tall figure stick, probably the woman that let me in, "This is me and my brother," he pointed at the two small figure sticks. Brother? He has a brother? "And this is my dog, and this is my new house, but they are building it right now so we live here."

"This is really good Mateo," I complimented him, but my thought are on the brother he mentioned.

"I know, you can have it. I'll sign it for you. Mami says I have to sign all my art so people know I made it," he explained as he grabbed the black crayon.

"Your mom is a smart woman,"

"How do you know mami?" he asked. "If you are the bad man that wants to take me away from mami I won't let you have the drawing. I don't like bad people that want to hurt mami."

"I'm not bad, I promise. I'm a nice person."

"Okay!" He wrote his name on the paper and then grabbed his brownie. "Are you my papi?" he looked at me.

"What?" my eyes widen.

"Yes. Are you my papi? If you're not bad, and you know my mom, then are you my daddy?"

How is this four-year-old so smart and how do I even respond to that? Before I could say anything, someone interrupted me. "Mati! Come here so I can put sunscreen on your pretty face." He got off the couch and went running into the hallway.

I grabbed the paper and stared at it. Did she have another child with someone else after me?

Y/n's POV

Mateo came running into the bathroom and the first thing he did was rub his face against Percy and give him kisses. "No, Mateo no beses al perro, mi amor. Ahora te tengo que lavar la cara otra vez." (No, Mateo, don't kiss the god, my love. Now I have to wash your face again.)

"Percy es tan tierno que solo le quiero dar besitos, mami" (Percy is so cute that I only want to give him kisses)

"Well you are cute too and you don't see me giving you kisses all do time," I said as I washed his face.

"You do give me kisses Mommy." he laughed.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm going to put sunscreen on you." I put sunscreen on my three fingers. "Where do we put sunscreen?"

"On the faceeeee" he said. "On the neeeeeck, y en las orejaaaas" (in the ears) I laughed at the way he explained it. Once I was done putting on the sunscreen, we both walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

I started to open the curtains.

"Mami this man tried to eat your tirmisu" Mateo said. I turned around and saw Charles sitting on my couch with a brownie on his lips, just frozen, like when Mateo gets caught doing something he shouldn't.

As he was chewing, he said, "I um- I was, Wow these brownies are good. I didn't eat your tiramisu."

"So you eat my brownies instead?" I asked.

"NO no, no. Mateo gave me one."

That wasn't surprising. "Who is he?" Mateo asked.

"He is a friend," I said. "He is going away soon so he's going to hang out with us for some days. Do you like that?"

"Okay! Then he has to meet Percy!" he ran off to the hallway again. I looked at Charles.

He looked like he wanted to tell me a lot of stuff, and ask me a bunch of questions.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Um, maybe like 10 minutes? Your friend let me in and then Mateo got me the brownie and this drawing," he showed me the paper. It was all of us, the house, Steph and I, my two babies, and my dog. "You look really pretty, by the way. Your boyfriend must be very lucky," Boyfriend? "I thought you only had Mateo, you didn't mention having a second child," he murmured the last part as he ate the last piece of the brownie. He thinks...

Before I could answer, Mateo came running back, "Look! This is my little dog, Percy!" Little is an understatement since Percy is a four-year-old Rottweiler. When the dog came into the living room, Charles got up and backed away.

"Mateo, I don't think Charles likes Percy." I told him.

"Why not?" he looked at Charles while his lips quivered.

"No, no. I love Percy! Percy is a good boy!" I know he wouldn't dare to pet the dog.

"Mati, grab your bag, we have to go." As he walked back to his room, Charles said.

"Did you name your dog Percy as in Perceval?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I named him after a book character."

At the end of the day, Mateo was tired. Reasonable. He was very entertained by all of the stuff the museum had to offer. But one moment kept replaying in my head.

My phone went off, remaining me to reapply sunscreen on Mateo, as I was applying some on his face I saw Charles, and how his face was a bit red.

"Do you not wear sunscreen?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "Only when I'm on the beach," he responded.

I gasped, and for a moment my mother self kicked in, "Charles, your face is red. Jesus, come here," Once he got close to me, I put the sunscreen on three of his fingers so he could apply it himself. He rubbed the sunscreen on his hands and started to rub it on his face.

"Acaso eres un animal?" (Are you an animal?) I told him as I stopped him from doing more damage to his skin. "You can't rub your face like that," I explained as I spread the sunscreen on his face, "You put on your face, on your neck y en las orejas," (and the ears) I murmured. Once I was done, I realized what I did and how close we were to each other.

“Is he going to meet Jules?” Mateo came out of nowhere.

We visit Jules every week, I was planning to visit him once the day was over with Charles.

“Who’s Jules?” Charles asked.

“He’s my brother!”

I looked at Charles for a second. He has no idea he’s one step closer to the truth, at least a part of it.

Friday 21st

I had everything ready for the visit to Jules. I prepared some sandwiches and fruit to eat. The favorite snacks for Mateo and Percy.

I loaded everything into the car, Mateo was in his baby seat with the window rolled down and I was waiting outside the car for Charles to appear. For being a Formula One driver, he is very late right now.

“Well, I guess he’s not going to come. Maybe next time.” I told my son and his face deflated, I, on the other hand, am very happy, but that didn’t last long because Mateo pointed and something behind me.

“He’s here!” I turned around and saw Charles with a visible line of sweat on his forehead.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said.

“Don’t make it a habit,” I responded. I opened the passenger seat and said, “Get in.” He approached the door and I placed my hand on his chest to stop him. “Wasn’t talking to you,” I smirked, he looked down and saw Percy get into the seat. “You go in the back,”

He didn’t say anything and simply did what I said.

The drive wasn’t bad, Charles got to find out more stuff about Mateo. I, on the other hand, became more nervous the more we got closer to our destination.

Once we got to our destination, confusion was obvious on Charles’ face.

“Why are we-”

“To see Jules,” I responded as I got out of the car, Charles following suit.

I went to the back of the car and open the truck, I gave Charles the picnic basket. I opened the back seat door and took Mateo out of the car seat and set him down. I opened the passenger seat and got Percy out of the car. With my left hand, I was holding Mateo’s hand and with my right hand, I had the dog’s leash. I locked the car and we began walking.

Charles hasn’t said anything yet, maybe he’s confused or maybe he’s just trying to process. After walking for an eternity, even though it was like seven minutes, Mateo let go of my hand and ran to our spot. I took Percy out of the leash and he went to be next to Mateo.

As I was walking I turned around and saw Charles stuck to the floor.

“Are you coming?” I asked, “I need the blanket that’s on the basket so we can sit down,” I continued walking.

Charles’ POV

Jules Alexander Y/L/N

6th November 2018

Loved Son and Brother.

Ahora eres una estrella mas en el cielo (now you are one more star in the sky)

Y/n didn’t have a boyfriend or a son with someone else. She had twins and she lost one. I had twins and I lost one. I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to break even more.

I left her alone during this horrible time.

“Look, Jules! We brought a friend. His name is Sharls,” Mateo said excitedly to the tombstone. “We got you floweeeers, and we have shanweches to eat,” he explained. Y/n was busy setting up the blanket and taking everything out of the basket. I didn’t dare to speak, if I did I would start crying. How much has this woman handled?

“Mi principe, porque no vas tu y Percy a jugar un ratito while Charles and I talk for a moment, okay?” (My prince, why don’t you and Percy go play for a bit) Y/n said. The kid nodded and ran with Percy somewhere a bit far but still close enough so we can see them.

I sat down next to her, still not able to speak. “Jules was the second one to come out,” she said. “There were some complications when I gave birth to him. He passed away thirty minutes after being born. He was only alive for thirty minutes and I wasn’t even able to hold him. Originally Mateo was supposed to be Mateo Agustin, but then Jules died so I changed his name to Mateo Alexander Jules. Alexander Agustin Y/L/N was my father,” She explained.

“And Jules?” I dared to ask, my voice breaking.

“I may not know much about you, or your family, but I know about Jules Bianchi,” she said. “I got Percy two months later. Percy was born on the same day. I thought it was a sign,”

“What about your family?” I asked her.

She laughed humorlessly, “This is my family. Steph, my son, and my dog. My parents died in a car accident, then I came to Monaco to start again. Getting knocked up wasn’t part of the plan, especially when the father can die the same way my parents did. I wasn’t expecting you to be an asshole either,”

With tears in my eyes, I said, “I am so sorry. I-”

“Yeah, me too”

Y/N’s POV

After he calmed down, I called Mateo back so we can eat. Everything was great until Charles asked me a question.

“Do you guys want to go on my boat tomorrow? Spend the day at sea?” I stopped eating and Mateo gasped loudly.

“Can we, mami?!”

One thing about me is that I am utterly terrified of the ocean. “No,” I said as I continued eating.

“Mami, please, please. I’ll be good, I promise,”

“I’m not going to be able to go with you baby,” I said.

“Why not?” he asked.

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him.

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, Mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. I could tell Charles wanted to say something but he didn’t dare. “If Charles promises to take great great GREAT care of you, then you can go with him,”

“Sharls! Take care of me so I can go!” Mateo yelled excitedly.

“Yes! Okay! Yes, I promise,” he assured me.

On the way back to the car, I pulled Charles aside and told him. “I am trusting you with my life. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t. I promise,”

“Was I stupid to trust Charles into taking care of Mateo?” I asked Steph.

“No, girl. You did the right thing. He’s going to be responsable of Mateo sooner or later,” I didn’t want to admit that she was right.

I looked at the list I made for Charles so he can take care of Mateo. There’s only three things to follow.

i - mateo will complain about the weather no matter what

ii - he doesn’t like sodas but loves orange and cherry juices, loves chicken but hates seafood.

iii - don’t forget to reapply his sunscreen, don’t loose the bottle.

“Am I missing anything else?” I asked. Steph took the note and read it.

“Why don’t you just send it on a text? What if he looses the paper?” She asked.

“If he doesn’t loose the paper then he’s not going to loose my child,” I responded.

“Fair enough. I think you got it all cover. That’s pretty much it - I mean, I thought the whole point was for him to get to know Mateo on his own. Why are you making him a list?” Why am I making him a list?

I crumbled the paper into a ball and thew it at her. “I have to get Mati ready to bath. I’ll be back,” I got up from the chair.

“Wait! I forgot to tell you, a cute guy passed by the bookstore, asking about you,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down, “His name is Arthuuuuur," I know who she was talking about. "I gave him your phone number. I told him you are free tomorrow so you guys can go on a date,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes and left the living room and went to the bathroom to get the water running. “Mateo,” I yelled, “time to take a shower,” I approached his room, once I opened the door, I saw him playing with his toys, “Come on, little guy. Gotta get you nice and clean for tomorrow,” I waited for him to get up and grabbed his hand.

Mateo is not the best singer, he’s just a kid, but he likes to sing in the shower. Once I was done with his shower, I wrapped him in a towel and carry him to his room, while I was getting his pijama ready, he started to jump on his bed.

“Mami, I have a question,” he said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Is Sharls my daddy?” I stopped for a second and looked at him.

“Why do you ask that, love?”

“Well, he looks like me,” I laughed at his explanation.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm”

“So just because he looks like you, you think he’s your daddy?”

“Well…” he stopped jumping and his gaze fell on the floor. It looked as if the hamster in his brain was turning the wheel. “Where is my daddy?”

I sighed. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? Am I ready for my kid to know the reality of what happen?

I texted Charles a little but after my shower.

To CL: He knows.

I heard a pin instantly. I thought it was Charles texting back but instead it was an unknown number, my eyes widen once reading the message.

From +377 3847502839: hey, this is Arthur. i hope this isn’t weird, i asked for your number to one of the girls from the store. i heard you’re free tomorrow and i want to invite you to some coffee.

From +377 3847501839: if that’s okay with you of course.

I added his phone on my contacts and replied “Not weird at all. I’d like to have coffee with you” I smiled a bit.

From Arthur Cute Guy: great! see you tomorrow then ;)

To say Mateo was excited was an underestimate, he was thrilled to spend the day with Charles. Once he got home, Mateo jumped into his arms and I think I saw his eyes tear up a bit.

“Well,” I cleared my throat. Charles put Mateo on the floor, to pay attention to me. “I have his bag ready with towel and clothes,” I passed him his bad, which he was quick to put on his shoulder. “Have fun, and please, please don’t forget to put sunscreen on him every two hours. It’s in the front pocket of the bag. He can only use that sunscreen so for the love of god don’t lose it,”

“I won’t.” he said.

“Okay,” I let a long breath out, “Well, have fun,”

Mateo was tugging Charles by the arm, “Come on Sharls we have so much to talk!” I closed the door behind then and ran to my bedroom to get ready for my date.

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Arthur greeted me with two kisses. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,”

“That’s very bold of you to say,” I giggled. I looked at the menu, “Have you been to this Cafe?”

“A few times, they have good pastries,” he said.

“Do they have a good tiramisu?” I asked as I looked at him, I feel like I have seen him before, like if I met him before our first encounter. He reminds me of someone, but who?

“It’s good, but it’s not the best,” he told me, “I heard this popular restaurant L’Incantato,” I perked up at the name, “has the best tiramisu.”

Curiosity got the best of me, “Have you tried it?”

He made a disappointed face, “I wish. You would think that just because there’s three restaurants in Monaco that there would be any availability in any of them but no, it’s always packed. I can never get a reservation. I wanted to take my mom for her birthday last year but couldn’t get a seat, unfortunately.”

I know the restaurant is always busy, and I felt a bit sad to hear he couldn’t take his mother to eat there. He’s very sweet. “Well, next time you go there. Tell them I sent you,” I winked at him.

“What, why?” he asked.

“You thought I would just own a bookstore? I also own all three L’Incatato restaurants,” I smiled, his eyes got so big I was wondering if they would come out of the sockets.

“No way!” he laughed, “What are the odds?” I shrugged. “What else do I need to know about you?” he smiled.

“Let’s get coffee first,” I said.

Charles’ POV

Everything was quiet.

All I could hear was the sound of the waves.

I felt at piece.

The piece was interrupted by the alarm going off from my phone. I turned it off and looked at Mateo, “Sunscreen time,” I said. He got up from his chair and walked to me. I looked around me but I couldn’t find the sunscreen anywhere. Where did I put it? “I can’t find the sunscreen,”

“Oh-oh,” he said.

“I think I have another sunscreen around, wait here,” I got up from my chair and looked into one of the compartments of the yacht until I found one sunscreen, I went back to Mateo and opened the cap.

“I don’t use that sunscreen,”

“I can’t find your sunscreen so we have to use this one,” I explained. I put some on my fingers and applied it into his face, gently.

“It smells funny,” he giggled. I did as well.

As I blended the sunscreen into his face I said, “What do you think your maman is doing?”

“What’s maman?” he asked.

I laughed a bit, “your mom,”

“Oh!” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably on her date.” I stopped for a second. “Hey, why did you stop?”

“Your mom is on a date?” I asked.

“Mmhm,” he nodded. “I heard Tia Steph talking about it. My mom sounded very excited,”

Y/n is on a date? “And do you know who he is?” he nodded. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

I smiled for a bit but I was so confused. “What- but you just-”

“My face feels funny,” he scratched his cheek, “its itchy and burning,” my smile started to fade.

His face was becoming very red. I have to call Y/n

Y/N’s POV

“So let’s see if I understand,” Arthur said. “You own a bookstore,” he counted with his finger and I nodded, “You own one of the most successful restaurants in Monaco,”

“And Italy,” I added

“And Italy!” he said, adding a finger to his count. “You are a bestseller author,” I nodded. “Your parents were also authors and they were like the Stephen King of murder mystery books,”

“Mhmm,”

“Wow,” he let out, “Simply wow. You amaze me.” I laughed. “No no, truly. You are incredible. You are too perfect,”

“Oh no! I am far from perfect. I also have a son,” I said slowly. “His name is Mateo. He likes to said Mateo with one T after the daycare wrote it with two T’s” I laughed a bit. “He’s very special to me.” Arthur had an intense look on his face, like paying attention to all the words I am saying. As if whatever I was saying matter to him. “You would like him, he’s very smart for his age.

“He sounds amazing, just like you,” he smiled.

“Here,” I pulled up my phone. “Let me show you a picture,” just as I was about to show him one of the newest picture I took of him, eating the naughty brownies, I got an incoming call from Charles. “Sorry, I have to take this call,” I apologized.

“No, no. Go ahead,”

I thanked him and answered the phone, “Hello Cha-”

“Y/N something is Mateo on his face,”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I don't know! His face is all red and he says it’s itching. He’s crying and I don’t know what to do, please” In the background I could hear Mateo crying. My heart broken a little, I knew what was happening.

“Wash his face and keep him under the sade if possible, bring him to me now. This play date is over,” I hung up the phone and looked at Arthur, there was concern in his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea for my kid to spend time with his father, and now he got an allergic reaction, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get going,” he felt bad having to leave like that.

“Don’t apologize, I understand. I might not know the entire situation but from what you just said, it sounds like the father of your kid is a bad father,” he said.

“Thank you for understanding,” I didn’t deny what he said because I don’t really know how Charles is as a father.

“Please let me know how your kid is doing and if you need to talk, I’m just one phonecall away,” we said our goodbyes and I rushed to my car to get to my apartment. Once I got there, I got the aloe vera out of the freezer and got the aquaphor ready. Once I cut and slided the aloe vera, I put it was in the freezer.

A little over an hour, Charles got home with Mateo in his arms, who was still crying, and the backpack I gave him on his shoulders.

Once he saw me he yelled, “Mamiiiii” he extended his arms towards me.

“Ven aqui, mi amor, (come here, my love)” I carried him in my arms to the kitchen and sat him on the kitchen counter, I took out the aloe vera from the fridge and said, “This is going to make you feel better, okay?” he nodded as he scratched his eye with his fist, I pulled his hand out immediately. “You can’t do that Mateo. Youre gonna make it worse.” I put the aloe vera all over his face.

“Why would he do that?” he asked. “I thought you loved me,” he looked at something behind me. I turned around and saw Charles standing behind us, bewildered after what Mateo said. He was only wearing his swimsuit, but none of that really matter now. He had the most sad face I have every seen. “But you don’t love me, that’s why you left me! You are mean! You are a mean dad! I hate you and I don’t wanna see you again!” he yelled.

“Mateo, calm down, let’s get you in the shower. You need to rest.” I carried him in my arms again. Before I got out of the I turned to Charles and lipped a small ‘wait here’

I gave Mateo a quick bath under cold water, put his pijamas on and applied the aquaphor and aloe vera on his face, I brough one of the fans close to his face.

“Are you okay now?” I asked him.

His green eyes were red from crying. “Mami, am I going to be okay? Am i gonna die?”

“No, mi amor. You are just having a reaction, nothing bad. You’re going to be okay in a few day,” I reassure him. “Now I need you to sleep. I’ll be checking up on you.” he nodded and closed his eyes.

I got out of the room and saw Charles pacing back and forth. “He’s fine,” I said, my voice made him stop and look at me, “What happened to the sunscreen I gave you?”

“I lost it, so I put another instead.” He took out the sunscreen out of Mateo’s bag.

I took the sunscreen in my hands and examined the product. “You put a chemical sunscreen on his face,” I looked at him. “Mateo has extreme sensitive skin, he can’t use this type of sunscreen.”

His eyes widen after that, “Why didn’t you tell me that?! I should’ve known that!”

“Charles, I gave you one rule, just one. It was so simple. ‘Don’t lose the sunscreen’ that’s all.” I looked at the sunscreen again. “For fucks sake Charles, this sunscreen is expired too!” I threw the sunscreen at him, “Are you out of your mind? What is wrong with you?” I sighed. “Just… Go home,” I told him.

“I-”

“Go!” he looked at me in the eyes and I knew he regretted everything that happened today. He nodded and left the apartment.

I let myself drop on the couch, and fell asleep there. When I woke up, it was dark outside and Steph has just got home, I told hereverything that happened.

“Mati said a lot of bad stuff to him, I thought Charles was going to cry on the spot,” I told her.

“This kind of stuff could’ve happen to anyone, it’s nobody’s fault,” she said. Although I wanted to believe her I though that maybe I should’ve told him about Mateo’s situation. “I’m going to check on Mateo, you go to rest.”

I got up from the couch, and stretched a bit. “Thank you, Steph.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile and made my way to my room.

Monday’s are always difficult with Mateo. He never wants to get up, and just wants to keep sleeping.

“Mateo you are not going to school,” I said as I tried to drag him out of bed, “I just need to face your face and then you can go back to sleep!”

“I’m not going to school?” He got up and and started jumping on the bed, “Yes! Yes! That means I can hang out with Sharls more! Yes! Yes! Ye-” he stopped jumping and started at the wall. He gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands, he turned to look at me. His eyes were less puffy and started to peel but his face was still red.

I got in front of him and pulled his hands away from his mouth. His lips started to quiver. He hugged me so fast and so tight I always fell back “Mami I was so mean to him. I told him I hate him but I don’t hate him, and now I’ll never see him again,” he was crying so hard on my neck. I pulled him away from me and dried his tears.

“Mateo I cannot have you crying right now, it’s not gonna be good for your face.” I pulled his hair out of his face, “Charles is busy today,” I lied, but I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet after yesterday, “But we can call him later on and you can talk to him and tell him you didn’t mean what you said, okay?” Mateo nodded, more calmed this time. “Okay, let’s go wash your face,”

I love spending my days with Mateo, when we are just hanging out in the couch and we cuddle and he falls asleep in my arms. It reminds me when he was a tiny baby.

We are cuddling on the big couch while watching Doraemon, a cartoon I saw while growing up. I heard Mateo murmur something I didn’t quite understand.

“What did you say baby?”

“I said you are my mommy and I love you so much,” he looked at me.

“Yes baby I know,” I giggled.

Mateo sat on the couch. “No mami, you have to say it baaack,”

“Say what back?” I laughed.

“You have to say that you love me too!” He pushed me a bit, he got on top of me and gave kisses.

“No Mateo, your face!” I laughed now. “Okay, okay. Fine I love you!” He stopped and smiled.

I was very tempted to text Charles and let him know about Mateo. I looked at the time, 6:32pm. I think that’s a good time to call him.

“Mateo do you wanna call Charles now?” I asked him. He looked down at his lap and then at me again. I could tell he was being shy now. “I’ll be there with you,” I told him, this time he nodded. I put my phone out and press the phone button, I looked for his name and press call, at the second ring he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Hey…”

“How’s Mateo? Is he okay?” I could clearly hear the concern in his voice.

“Mateo is fine, he’s getting better,” I looked at my son for a second, “He actually wants to talk to you, I’m going to put you on speaker, hold on.” I moved the phone out of my face and put the call on speaker, I moved the phone towards my son.

“Hi Sharls…” his voice was small.

“Hello Mateo, your maman says you are doing better,”

“Yes…”

At the other line, Charles let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take good care of you. I never wanted to hurt you”

Mateo’s lip started to tremble, “I didn’t mean the stuff I said to you yesterday. I was very mean, I’m sorry,”

“I forgive you, Mati,”

“No, you can’t call me that, only mommy calls me that,” he was quick to say.

“Mateo!” I said.

“Okay, you can call me Mati,” Charles laughed through the phone.

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” I pulled the phone back and told Mateo to get the cream and aloe vera to apply it to his face again, after he left the living to get the stuff I took the phone out of speaker.

“Yes?”

“Is it okay to still have the dinner with my family tomorrow?” Tomorrow is the last day. The day next day Charles is leaving to go to the Baku GP.

“Yes, I thought that’s what we agreed on. How many are you guys?”

“Ehh… It’s me, my mum and my two brothers,” he said.

“Okay, you can be here around seven or eight,” I told him.

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight to Mateo for me,”

“Alright, bye.” I hang up.

I got everything ready, I got catering from the restaurant. I have the table ready.

Steph came out with Mateo next to her, once she saw me, she stopped walking and covered Mateo’s ears.

“Girl, you look so hot,” I was wearing a black satin dress and low shoes.

“Really? I think it’s too much, I have to go change.” Just as I took one step, I heard a knock on the door.

“No can do, ma’am. You have guests outside.” She let go of Mateo and pushed me towards the door. “Now be a nice hostess and open the door,” after she said that, she made her way into the kitchen.

I took a deep breath, fixed my dress a bit, and then opened the door, but this wasn’t exactly who I expected to see on the other side.

“Pascale?”

“Y/n?” she asked.

“Maman?” Charles asked.

“Maman?!” I asked.

“Y/n?” Charles asked again.

“Charles, you’re…” Pascale started. She looked at me, and then at Charles. She knows the truth about everything. I feel my eyes burning. What the actual fuck is going on? Can this get any worse? A little far back, I could hear the voice of two guys speaking French.

“Y/n, you know my mom?” Charles asked. I think I’m going to puke.

Before I could answer, the two guys got behind Charles, still talking in within themselves. Is that…?

“Arthur?!” The blond guy turned his face so fast. I was wrong, it can and it did get worse. I felt my whole body start to shake. I want to run far far away from this dinner, I want to floor to open a hole and swallow me whole.

“Y/N?” Seeing Arthur next to Charles, I could see the resemblance. The dimples, the smile. His face went pale and his eyes looked at me and then his brother. What are the odds? This can’t be right.

Everyone was in some sort of shock, except for the other guy. He was just confused. He pushed Arthur behind and got in between Pascale and Charles. “I’m Lorenzo, very nice to meet,” He greeted me with two kisses on the cheek.

“Yeah…” I managed to say. “Same…”

What the fuck do I do now?

Author's Note - Please please read.

AHHHHHHHH I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter. This is the longest chapter I have written so far. This chapter has been so intense for me to write because of how long it is. It has taken me two and a half weeks to write. I would really appreciate to know what you guys thought of the chapter.

I love writing, I love the idea of Una Noche En Monaco a lot, and I really wish I could update more frequent. You guys are so lovely with the messages you sent me. Your comments, your praises and your support on this story is what makes me want to continue to write, truly. I mean the absolute world to me and I want to thank you guys for that. You guys are the best!

I have so many ideas for new stories of Charles that I wish I could be able to tell you. Like the royal!Charles x low class!reader, royal!Charles x royal! reader, Charles x Ferrari driver! reader, and two more that I can't even say.

If you guys let me vent for a bit, these past few weeks have been a bit of a struggle for me because I am not having that much work at my main job because we work with school and if there's no school, then there's no money, and my second job doesn't have events available to work. So I'm kinda jobless which is really really bad because I have tons of bills to pay and Miami is freaking expensive. All of this is freaking me out a bit and I just can't wait for school to start again so I can have work 😭😭

On better news, I have 736 followers! That is a lot! Like if I had one dollar for each follower I have, I would have 736 dollars?! That's a lot! I can't belie the amount of love you guys have given UNEM, you guys are the goat and I am sending a big kiss to each one of you! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'm also thinking about creating a discord group so I could let you guys know about future projects, let you know whenever I update and all that jazz. The reason behind it is that tagging can be messy and Tumblr doesn't let me tag more than 50 people, and some tag don't even work? But I know the people are there because I see their likes and comments. So it's confusing. So pls let me know what you think about the discord.

Also I saw my notes app the other day and remember the bulletpoint draft for UNEM and this whole series was going to be COMPLETELY different from what is it lmaoo, should I show it to you guys? 👀

AND TO ALL THE GIRLIES THAT WRITE ABOUT SEBASTIAN VETTEL, TOTO WOLFF AND FERNANDO ALONSO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND PLS UPDATE MORE BC THAT IS MY SOURCE OF LIFE RN SPECIALLY RBR!SEBASTIAN FICS AHHHH

TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

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