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cheriladycl01 · 3 months

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Surrounded by Ice - Kimi Raikkonen x FigureSkater! Reader

Plot: The Iceman just surrounds himself with Ice in every aspect of his life

A/N: Just a short little Kimi drabble, more exciting stuff coming soon, just been swamped with Uni!

Credit to summerblueringo for the GIF

"How does it feel to bring home a gold medal for your country, again?" the interviewer asks and a big grin appears on your face.

"I mean, i love the sport and I've worked hard to get where I am. I think this year there were many other contestants who also deserved gold and everyone who took part today were amazing!" you keep smiling, it had been a really amazing set for you today. You'd even broke some records while here.

"And now what is your plan?" they ask holding the mic closer to you.

"Well my husband is waiting for me, just over there. So i think he wants to give me his congratulations" you say pointing out our stoic looking husband who was waiting in the background, keeping to himself watching the world go past.

"Ah yes, Kimi Raikkonen! The Ice Man, who arguably married Queen of the Ice" he jokes making you laugh a little. You had heard similar jokes many times since you'd married Kimi.

"Yes, obviously being here in South Korea for the Winter Olympics has been amazing, and I'll be sure to train hard for 2022 but now I'm needed to go support my lovely lovely husband in his fast cars" you exclaim, knowing that the Australian Grand Prix was round the corner.

"Ah yes, it's looking like a good season for Ferrari! And we can tell from your outfit today they already have your support"

"My support is for whatever team my husband is in, so Ferrari have had my support since Kimi has raced with them!"

You left the interview thanking your team before finding Kimi waiting for you quietly.

"Home?" you ask and he nods silently grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the arena.

"You were fantastic today!" he smiles, holding you and pulling you into a kiss.

"Yeah? You liked the new twist i did?" you ask, your routine today being one of the hardest you'd ever done. You mascara had infact started to run, from the sweat building on your forehead throughout the day.

"I like everything you do"

You guys both went back to the hotel, packing up all of your gear that had been here for the past month you'd stayed in Korea for. Once you were sure you hadn't left anything behind you made your way to the airport.

Kimi now only had a month until Australia, his personal trainer had come with you to Korea to help him train while he was out there supporting you.

Now, you'd train while you were travelling with Kimi. Finding ice while on the road with him was always difficult, but finding places to just work out and keep your fitness up was never hard as you'd train alongside Kimi. It was one of the ways to spend extra time with him during the season when he was most busy.

In the free month before Australia you started your research on where you could go in Melbourne to skate, you found somewhere that Kimi was happy with you going too as it wasn't too far from the hotel you'd be staying in or the race track for if anything went wrong.

"Will you watch me on the Sunday though?" he'd asked you as you were both lying in bed the night before you were due to fly to Australia.

"When have I ever not?" you ask, turning over in bed to look at him.

"Hmmm, I can for sure think of one time..." he smirks looking over you.

"If your talking about China, almost 10 years ago that doesn't even count!" you laugh, poking his cheek a little.

Your husband never failed to amaze you, his striking blue eyes and his soft blonde hair was what initially drew you in. But it was your first interaction with him that made you fall for him fully.

It was the Autumn of 2008 and you were 22 and you had just won your second Gold Medal in China, you'd stayed there for the months after the games as they left the Beijing Olympic Park open and it seemed like a good place to stay and to train.

You managed to get tickets to other sporting events in the months you stayed there such as Snow Boarding, Golf but the best one was when the Chinese Grand Prix came about.

You were active on the socials you had back then, and so it wasn't hard for Sauber BMW to reach out to you and give you a guest pass.

You'd been walking round the paddock, just investigating when you'd bumped right into the Finnish Ferrari driver. He had just stared at you while holding a tight grip on your wrist so you didn't fall over.

You remember him asking if you were okay, and some other questions that you hadn't heard fully as your brain had gone foggy at the sound of his soft, yet deep voice.

It was a little embarrassing, when he'd tried to speak Finnish to you, and then decided on English, but with no reply he was left stumped and awkwardly standing there.

He'd soon left after that but you were on each other's minds for the whole day. You tried to keep up conversations with the BMW drivers Robert and Nick but your mind kept drifting the the Finnish Driver for Ferrari.

He found you after the race, and just stared at you for a while before you made the first move speaking to him. And the rest was history.

You spent the next 5 years together as partners, it was convenient for someone like Kimi who raced all through the year apart from summer and winter to end up with someone in a sport who only competed for a month in the summer and winter. It meant that they also still got a break with each other.

After 5 years, Kimi let the big question unload and now you'd been married for 5 years.

"Of course, my love! You know that!" you smile, pulling him closer to you. You tuck yourself into his surprisingly warm embrace, considering his nickname was 'Iceman' he was the warmest person you'd ever had the privilege of meeting.

"I was thinking ..." he breathes, his voice a little higher and whiny than normal.

"Mmmmm, you don't do that often?" you tease, a hand running up and down his back.

"Well, I'm the ice man, your the Ice Queen... i was thinking maybe it's time we have an Ice Baby?" he whispers in the softest most unsure tone you'd ever heard.

"You think now's a good time?" you ask, and thinking about it... it was. You yourself had two years before the next Olympics in 2020, and Kimi was at a point in his career where he could leave and live comfortably if he needed and wanted to.

"I haven't told you this, but they want the Sauber kid in my spot. I'll be going to Alpha Romeo next year. I feel like I've done what i can and I've had my time in the sport... and we aren't getting any younger. Especially me..." he jokes, being 44 now.

"Mmmmmm I think now is the perfect time" you smile.

Flash forward to the Austin Grand Prix and you were 6 months pregnant. You'd already announced it and so many people were excited for you and Kimi, through the season he had loads of interviews. All against his will of course but people saw a different side to him when he talked about you and the soon to be baby.

It was a great race for Kimi in Austin, he pulled through with his first win of the season, valuable points that helped contribute towards his position in the drivers standings.

"So Kimi, first win of the season today! How are you feeling?" an interviewer asks, he was sat in a panel with some of the other drivers in a debrief.

"It was good to get a win, this season has been tough. We've had an interesting year with veteran drivers like myself, Seb, Fernando and Lewis being pushed by newer or younger drivers who are proving to be good competition like Charles, Max and Pierre" he answers.

"There have been rumors that you wont be here with us next season?" he pushes and Kimi roles his eyes.

"If I'm not it's not an issue... racing is my hobby that i get paid to do. I'll leave when i want to" he admits without letting anything slip that Ferrari wouldn't want to come public knowledge.

"Lets move on to you Lewis..."

And for the rest of the interview all he could think of was coming back to you.

Once your daughter was born in January before the start of the 2019 season and Kimi moving to Alfa Romeo everyone on the grid wanted to meet her. So of course, you were obligated to come to Australia for pre-season testing. Your 3 month old being so intrigued at the busy rush of everything around her.

She was a fan and driver fav around. Everyone had a picture with her and introduced themselves as her uncle and that they would look after her. People like Lewis, Seb and Charles all came with little gifts for her, Seb even had someone make her a custom team Ferrari top so she could fit in with her father and her Uncle Sebastian.

"Today was amazing!" you sighed as you leaned into your husband who currently held your daughter against his bare chest.

"Mmmm, I think you should both take a break though, at least until Summer break and join me afterwards" he smiles, knowing that the heavy time change from Monaco to Australia wasn't good for your or the baby.

"Well, I may as well come to Bahrain with you... its on the way back. But I will leave after that" you smile, pulling him in for a kiss.

"I love you, thank you for giving me this life" he smiles looking between you and his daughter.

"I wouldn't have it any of way" you grin.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #kimi raikkonen #kimi räikkönen #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen one shot #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen imagine

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year

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piano (dal)ma(tio)n

charles leclerc x f!reader - social media au

psa: no plot, just thoughts

liked by screamingmeals, landonorris and 246,940 others

ynofficial: piano (dal)ma(tio)n

view all comments

charles_leclerc: I SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO LET BUZZ BANG ON THE PIANO

ynofficial: it's my fucking piano????

landonorris: mum and dad are fighting again alex_albon

charles_leclerc: BUT!! IT'S!! VINTAGE!!

ynofficial: YOU TRY SAYING NO TO THAT FACE. DARE YOU RN.

alex_albon: don't let it fool you lando_norris, he's giggling too, i can hear it across the paddock

lewishamilton: buzz looks like he's having fun! charles_leclerc he could be a musical genius

ynofficial: that's what i've been saying!!!!!!!!!! but SOMEONE won't hear me out 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: i'll hear you out when he learns to play chopin

ynofficial: bitch

charles_leclerc: love you too😘😘😘😘😘😘

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 317,713 others

tagged: isahernaez

ynofficial: 'i'm a spontaneous person' - harry bright

view all comments

isaherneaz:❤️

charles_leclerc: so spontaneous you forgot to tell me 😐

charles_leclerc: i was this close 🤏to calling the police

ynofficial: oh my god i knew i forgot something

charles_leclerc: DO I MEAN NOTHING????

ynofficial: open snapchat

charles_leclerc: merde nvm

lando_norris: ew keep it PG in here

georgerussell63: oh charlie boy

liked by sophieturner, callum_ilott and 428,165 others

ynofficial: i pictured you with other girls in love and threw up on the street (true)

view all comments

lilymhe: i can vouch i was there ✋

charles_leclerc: darling, when was this?

lando_norris: last week?

ynofficial: i'm not gonna lie, literally three days after meeting you

charles_leclerc: #whipped

ynofficial: loud and proud about it

camilamorrone: charles_leclerc if you don't put a ring on her i will

charles_leclerc: noted

pierregasly: 😲

ynofficial: pierregasly you and me both brotha

liked by pierregasly, barzal97 and 412,926 others

ynofficial: charles_leclerc don't know what YOU are talking about mr-hands-on-at-all-times

view all comments

arthur_leclerc: THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE

ynofficial: you're what??? 22???

charles_leclerc: didn't have to do me like that 😐😐

ynofficial: i can do you however i want

charles_leclerc: oh? 😏

lando_norris: i have to deal with max sucking face in public and this when i look at my phone smh

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 245,186 others

ynofficial: PASS THE MIC RIGHT OVER TO CHARLES...we forgot charles

view all comments

charles_leclerc: please come back

danielricciardo: BUT WE CAN'T TURN BACK COS WE'VE GONE TOO FAR!!!

ynofficial: unbothered king 👑

danielricciardo: you know it

alex_albon: did you guys...forget charles?

charles_leclerc: yep

liked by ynofficial, carlossainz55 and 628,196 others

charles_leclerc: if we run away together each time you leave me to walk a block before coming back to get me, i'll start hiding myself. love you always and a whole lot.

view all comments

arthur_leclerc: sap. marry her immediately.

charles_leclerc: working on it, promise!

ynofficial: i saw nothing, but yes

charles_leclerc: oh. nice to know 😊😊😊😊😊😊

ynofficial: please start hiding yourself, i want to stay here forever

charles_leclerc: say no more, i'll make sure to get a ticket for buzz next time

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au

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aakeysmash · 2 months

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Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 2, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.5k.

Katsuki knows you will not remember anything from this night tomorrow, since he sees how drunk you are. He’s sober though, and what you said has him thinking from the moment he leaves you on your bed, soundly asleep.

He’s always been a rude guy, he thinks people are too used to kindness to function properly in nowadays society.

To prove his (still standing) point, he opened the cafe when he was 18. He wanted to make something out of his life, and he knew he couldn’t do it without a steady income. Honestly, he opted for a cafe just because one day Midoriya said he couldn’t see him as a cafe owner. Basically, he opened it out of spite. So he bought the store from an old lady that was literally almost gifting it, painted it himself all summer, put the counters/chairs/machines that he bought all over the country (“if they’re good, cheap and they can ship them here, I can always fucking renovate them”) and he hired some of his frien- uhm, classmates, as his work subordinates.

They all just finished high school, so they all needed money. Todoroki and Momo weren’t even together back then. They had their little flirt moments, sure, but working together really strengthened their relationship. It made Katsuki sick to his stomach.

If Katsuki was something, he prided himself on being honest: he never said their paycheck was coming in late, or that they wouldn’t be paid. He did all he could to be the boss he wanted others to be happy about.

For the last 4 years things have gone pretty well. Kirishima was (and still is) a big part of this project, and Katsuki probably wouldn’t have come so far without his aid (even if he would never admit it).

Even if he was indeed the boss, he opts to never go himself at the cafe, since he likes to be behind the scenes more (also, even if he doesn’t know it, this is the reason why he doesn’t recognise you, even if you have been working there for 2 years). And maybe it’s also because seeing some of the people that stuck with him since the beginning makes him feel a tenderness that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

And yeah, he was definitely still a rude guy. He just didn’t think he wanted to be nice to people, or, well, he knew he didn’t want to be. Things have gotten better since middle school, sure, and he now has friends who accept him just as he is, but he isn’t used to making friends. One day he woke up and he had friends. He always (jokingly?) said he was forced to be their friend.

But you were different.

At the time he met you, he was really desperate to find a place to stay in, since he had to be more and more present each day at the office. His old landlord was an ass and kicked him out since all of a sudden he wanted to rent each room of the establishment to a different person, and he remembers crashing at Kirishima’s place for two weeks while he was searching for a new apartment. You just happened to post that you needed a roommate the same day he was about to call his parents (yes, he was THAT desperate).

You were the 23rd person he visited in those 2 weeks. He was pissed out of his mind: 5 out of 22 people never got up to greet him at the door; 6 already had a roommate and they just wanted to sublet to make more money; 10 were living in such horrible conditions that he thought he got sick every time he saw a pile of old dirt in their home; 1 just wanted to have… some kind of intercourse… since they saw his photo on the booking app.

And when he saw you opening the door of your house with sleep still covering your features, he was about to turn around and really call his old folks. He was tired of this shit.

But you still managed to smile, even if he noticed how your eye ticked slightly when you clarified that he was indeed early after he pettily said that he waited for you for 15 minutes. Also, that remark was probably what made him stay. He didn’t want a weak extra as his roommate, and his more-than-good sixth sense was saying that you were indeed capable of holding your ground.

He does find you incredibly annoying, though. You have this aura of softness he doesn’t like, but that he is drawn into. He is a pretty silent guy when he is in his personal space, while you like to talk about whatever you have done a certain day, or about your new trashy show, or the new recipe that you saw on IG that he “absolutely has to try”. You basically yap all day long, and it gets on his nerves. Badly.

But he also enjoys your company. He’s very loud when he’s with his friends, being as naturally angry as he is about anything, but your softness rubs on him the wrong way, and it makes him stay silent. Well, he knows this is what he tries to tell himself, anyway.

He doesn’t want to admit to himself that the way you want to be his friend puts him in the awkward position of not being able to reciprocate your efforts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, it’s that he doesn’t know how to, and he hates not being good at something.

And so, he distances himself. Even if he does watch you from afar, and even if he did notice a lot in the 4 (almost 5, “fuck rent is due tomorrow”, he thinks) months you have lived together. For example, you’re super easy to please. When you have a bad day he notices that you brighten up if he cooks both of you dinner (which really isn’t a hassle for him, even if he says so) instead of making you cook for yourself. Or that if you have a pretty tiring day at work/uni and he “accidentally” leaves some coffee in the pot before his morning run the next day, your eyes twinkle a little bit more when he comes back home.

He’s not used to being so close to someone who tries their best to be happy anymore. The last time he was that close to someone happy, he started to be a bully (yes, he did say sorry to Midoriya. Multiple times. Mostly when he sporadically got drunk in high school).

Your outburst gets him thinking because, after all, you’re a really good fucking roommate. He’d hate to have to search for another apartment because you get sick of his ass.

Most importantly, some part of him likes how different you are from him, and he doesn’t want to be rude when he knows you’re just trying to make him like you. But it’s second nature to him. You’re too pure in that sense, and he wants nothing to do with that.

He doesn’t know how to say sorry, just like he doesn’t know how to change things. The fact that you won’t remember anything and even if you will you probably would just shrug it off just makes him believe that it’s not that big of a deal.

After all, if your roommate still pays their rent and acknowledges you as a human being, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fuck, my head is killing me” whines Ochaco while you escort her out of the door.

“We really have to stop getting drunk” you sigh, while rubbing your temples. “You have Midoriya picking you up, right?” you ask your best friend.

“Fortunately yes. Say hi to your roommate, I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet” she responds.

You raise an eyebrow before saying “you don’t think?”.

She shrugs, before adding “you never know, this town isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll find out that, I don’t know, he used to be my boyfriend’s best friend or something like that”.

You laugh, “you read too many novels”.

A car parks right in front of your door, and a guy with green curls walks out of it.

“Hi! I’m Midoriya. You must be the best friend Ochaco always talks about” he says while putting on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a human face.

“Hey, that’s most definitely me. Take good care of her, okay?” you reply with a smile of your own. “I have to get back to my thesis, but we have to meet each other again soon. Drive safely!” you add, while he gets her purse on his shoulder and gets the door of the car on her side open.

“Thank you so much babe. Don’t stress yourself and text me!” your best friend says before Midoriya nods at you and starts the car.

You get inside of your house again.

You and Ochaco just woke up, so you still have to eat breakfast.

While you get near the coffee machine you notice a scribbled note on the counter.

“Left coffee 4 u. u'll need it. also, rent is due. -K”.

You smile and roll your eyes, pouring the coffee into a cup while opening your text messages app.

You: you could’ve texted me, you know. Thanks for the coffee.

Bakugou answers almost instantly.

Katsuki (roommate): wtv.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #and they were roommates #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #soft bakugou #barista au #bakugou angst #bakugou fic #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n

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lunajay33 · 2 months

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Both❤️‍🔥

Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, they wanted you, but will they have to fight for you, who will you chose maybe both?

~Threesome

•Masterlist•

You were sat in the watch tower with your binoculars looking out by the fences for any danger, as you were looking around you noticed Daryl and Rick in the field and god did they make me feel things, Daryl first caught your eyes with his mysterious quiet guy act, and then when he’d talk to you with that deep voice and the way he’d look at you made your knees weak like nothing you’d ever felt before but then…….

There came Rick Grimes, that sheriff outfit and the way he took charge of the ground had butterflies erupt in your belly and now you were drooling over the two men constantly especially when they’d be hard at work outside with the sun beating down on them, their tan skin shimmering with sweat god it was so hot

As you were fantasizing about them you hadn’t noticed they were looking back at you, obviously you were spying on them, which made them smirk, when you noticed what you’d been doing you quickly moved the binoculars down and climbed down the tower, once you got to the bottom you were met by those devilish men you’d think about late at night

“Hey darlin” Daryl said as he leaned on the wall next to you as Rick was on your other side trapping you

“Hi” you said timidly

“You have a nice look there, have your eye on one of us sweetie?” Rick asked playing with a strand of you hair

You could feel what was happening in your panties, these men really did things to you, you wanted them to do unspeakable things, they were a bit older than you but you were 22 you’re a woman who needs some strong men to break you out of your shell

“Maybe” you said biting your lip

“Oh really, and which one would that be peach?” Daryl asked as he ran his hand down your waist pulling your shirt a bit lower

You didn’t say anything to distracted by the hands roaming your body

“Come on baby, who do you need?” Rick whispered in your ear

“Mmmmm, I need you both” they looked at you with the look that made you knee weak and your heart pump faster

“What do ya say?” Daryl asked squeezing your hip

“Please, please I’ll be good” you whined feeling the fullest affect of these men

“Mmmm I think we should reward her don’t you think Daryl?” He asked as they looked at each other smirking

“Ya I think she does” Daryl took your hand dragging you up the watch tower as Rick followed

Daryl laid you down on the mattress Glenn and Maggie dragged up here, they looked down at you as they continued to remove their shirts and pants leaving them in boxers and god just from the outlines they were big, it was mouth watering

Rick kneeled on your left as Daryl was on your right as they gazed at you body, Daryl pulled you shirt off as Rick pulled down you tight jeans leaving you in your pink bra and panties

“Oh baby were you planning for this?” Rick asked as he ran his fingers higher up you thigh leaving goosebumps in its trail as Daryl couldn’t rip his eyes from your boobs

“Was just waiting for the day that it might happen” you said rubbing your legs together for some friction

“Here we thought ya were a good girl” Daryl said as he unclipped your bra leaving your chest bare as Rick tucked his fingers in the band of your panties ripping them off, now completely nude, this is new to you so you weren’t sure what to fully do especially with two hot men

“What’s wrong baby ain’t ya want this?” Daryl asked as he licked up your stomach to your chest

“Yes oh god yes it’s just……” you gasped out as Rick ran his thumb against your clit

“Just what baby?” Rick asked as he rubbed faster

“I’ve never……you know, I don’t wanna be bad” you admitted making them both stop

“Really a pretty lil thing like ya ain’t ever been touched?”

“All for us now aren’t you baby?”

“Yes I’m all yours, both of you, just teach me I want you guys to feel good too”

“Oh peach we’ll feel good don’t worry ‘bout that” Daryl smirked as he started to suck on you boob as he ran his thumb over the other

“Mmmm Daryl” you moaned right before you felt something wet flick against your clit making you almost scream, bucking your hips

Everything felt so good, Rick fingers digging into your hips trying to keep you down, both their tongues on you made your head all hazy, it felt so good you didn’t think it could get better

Then you felt fingers enter you curling in and out and it pushed you over, screaming out from the pleasure that coursed through you, your legs shaking from how hard it hit you

They pulled back looking at your shaking body as you huffed out of breathe

“How do you feel baby, ready for the real things?” Rick asked pushing your hair back

“Yes please I want more”

“Who first darlin?” Daryl asked as they both stripped themselves of their boxers as their dicks smacked against their stomach, and damn were they packing, Rick had his red angry tip, long and white, and Daryl’s was thick and veiny but still long

“I want Daryl first” you basically whined spreading your legs open, Daryl dropped himself between your legs, gliding his tip up and down your folds pushing hard against your clit

Rick sat up closer to you as he pumped his dick in his hand at the sight of his best friend pushing into you hearing the pop of his dick stretching you out for the first time, you were up on your elbows looking down whining at the stretch

“Mmmm it’s so good, I don’t know if….fuck if I can take it”

“Just breathe darlin, I’ll get it ta fit” Daryl said as you calmed down so he could slowly push all the way in groaning

“She tight Daryl?” Rick asked as you squeezed his thigh

“Damn right, so tight she’s suckin me in, she’s perfect” he said clawing at you legs burying his head in your shoulder breathing you in

“Ya ready?” He whispered in the husky voice

“Yes be careful please”

He started off slow, pulling back until slowly pushing all the way back in till you were fully comfortable with his length, you were a moaning mess but felt bad for Rick so you snaked your hand up his thigh gripping his dick and started to pump it, running your thumb over his slit ever so often causing his to hiss

The noises coming out of all three of you was damn near pornographic, hell this was a porno two sexy men screwing a virgin but god did you love it

“Am I doing good?” You squealed when Daryl hit a certain spot

“So good baby, fuck I’m gonna cum” Rick groaned as he started to thrust into you hand soon after cumming all over your hand, he sat back huffing as he continued to watch Daryl fuck you

“Ya close peach?” Daryl asked as he sat back up and putting your legs over his shoulders perfectly hitting that spot making you screaming feeling that pleasure build in your belly again

“Yes Daryl I’m about to cum keep going”

Rick started sucking on your boobs as Daryl begin to quickly rub your clit finally pushing you over the edge, squeezing around Daryl’s dick feeling him fill you up as he groaned trying to be quiet

You were hazy again the pleasure making you extremely tired but the after wave felt so good, you actually had a threesome

Daryl pulled out as you all watched his cum leak out of you

“Rick don’t think she can take two dicks in one day” Daryl said as he spread your legs wider seeing your red puffy clit

“Next time baby you’re all mine”

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.2<-

Guys this was my first full spicy story lmk if I should do a part 2? Also lmk where you guys are reading from, I think most of my readers are international!!

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crowsnqueens · 9 months

Text

Bibliophile; Pt. i

Kaz Brekker x Bibliophile!wife!reader

Summary: Kaz returns from a meeting to find his wife (that was meant to attend) with a book in her hand and a drink at her side. Unfortunately, a fellow crow sees their interaction and is itching to find out more.

an: i had so much fun writing this bro y’all don’t even KNOW

Warnings: Kaz can tolerate reader’s touch, alcohol and drinking it, little bit of irritated Kaz, fluff for DAYS, reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as female, marriage??, the book “The Language of Thorns” is presumed in canon, the crows are about 22 in this (which is what i imagine to be in the show), OOC Kaz (i tried y’all) I may have missed some 💁🏻‍♀️but enjoy!!

Kaz sighed as he scanned the room for his wife, finding that she was in fact, not present.

“Have any of you seen Y/n?” he tooka large breath,”Never mind, let’s continue.”

“But boss, doesn’t she have a big chunk of the job?” Jesper swirled a pistol around his fingers then re-holstered the weapon with ease and precision.

“I can inform her later.” His teeth slightly grit, his hands working in the beginnings of a loose fist.

“As we were…”

Once the meeting was finished, Kaz gathered up the papers to re-place them back with his files, and shrugged his coat off. Descending the stairs of the slat, he noticed some of the books on the shelf had slanted in their places, as if a support had been pulled from under them.

Curious, he smirked.

he decended the stairs further to the crow club’s nightly regulars either gambling or drinking, conversing or laughing, scheming or wishing. But among them all, he found a familiar face in a quiet secluded corner, with a book and a glass of Kvas.

Continuing his way across the floor of his club, he stopped to ask one of the other Dregs about the upcoming job.

Slowly from her corner, Y/n heard a certain man’s voice and found him in discussion with the woman who tended the bar named Sylvi. They were presumably discussing a new job or a previous one, but nothing other than work. She knew that, but she still couldn’t help but keep an eye on the interaction.

Eventually she grew tired of surveying her husband’s every move, and returned to her book. “The Language of Thorns” is a collection of six fairytales and myths she had been read as a child, and when she found it on the shelf she just had to reread it.

“You look invested.” Kaz’s voice softened from his previous tone with the other woman.

“Oh I am, this book is very good. I used to read it quite a lot when I was young.” She smiled over the top of the book, knowing exactly what he would bring up next.

“Was there anything else you needed to do or, attend possibly, this evening? That you perhaps weren’t there for?”

“Oh there was this meeting, yes, my dear husband told my to meet him at 9 bells and it must have slipped my mind.” She smirked in the taller boy’s direction over her book.

“I’ll make sure to tell him about your predicament.” Kaz sat beside his wife, grabbing her hand that was laying on the couch.

“She is forgiven.” He placed a kiss to her knuckles and smiled lightly at her.

“Thank you, Mijn liefje.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and Kaz kissed her head.

“Of course, schatje.”

Little did the two know, a sharpshooter watched and observed their interaction, slowly piecing together that their relationship entailed more than expected.

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #kazzle dazzle #kaz x wife! reader

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ginnsbaker · 9 months

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (17-II/22)

Chapter summary: You up and left the night you found out about a bitter truth. And then you and Wanda come to an understanding on how to move forward.

Chapter B word count: 8.5k | Warnings: Angst, Smut, Profound Sadness | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: There's still angst ahead, be warned. This is my all time fave part to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :) P.S. Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars is such an old and a bit overrated song, but I envisioned this part with this song.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next chapter: Eighteen

Seventeen - Part Two

“Suspended?” Wanda repeats incredulously at your assistant. Her mind spins, thinking about the last several days when you've been mysteriously silent. Every call she's tried to make has gone straight to voicemail; every text she's sent is left unseen, hanging in the balance.

It feels like you've dropped off the face of the Earth, a sensation all too familiar to Wanda. It's like you've once again disappeared from her life without any warning, leaving her in a state of worry and confusion.

Her gaze falls back on your assistant, Martin, who just nods apathetically, his bony fingers carefully balancing a tray of coffee. His casual, nonchalant manner seems to strike a nerve with her, agitating her more than she'd like to admit.

“Sorry, Ms. Maximoff,” he says in a flat, apologetic voice, “She's not been around, hasn't been taking calls or replying to messages from our human resources.”

Wanda's eyes flicker from the reception desk to your office, her heart throbbing with concern and confusion. The glass pane of the office door merely reflects a distorted image of her, nothing of what it concealed inside. “But she's the boss here…” she lamely objects, her voice trailing off.

“Yes, and she suspended herself, apparently,” he replies, shrugging. “In essence, she's on a sabbatical, if you prefer.”

“Did… Did she inform you or anyone here why?” she manages to ask, trying desperately to figure out something–anything.

Martin sighs, placing the trays on his unruly desk. “Wish I knew, really. But she left with only two words 'personal reasons'. That's all we got.”

Wanda stands frozen, questions swirling in her mind, none finding an outlet. Her eyes moisten, and she swallows hard, her worry for you amplifying every second. She scans the room one more time, a futile effort to find answers.

“The last time I saw her,” he starts, his voice breaking her trance, “She seemed...off. Like she was wrestling with something. Something big.”

Her heart lurches. The last time your career was put on hold was when the two of you had to navigate through the tangled mess of divorce proceedings. If even your assistant has noticed that something was amiss, it must mean that whatever you're going through is truly serious, enough to have disrupted your usually composed work life.

“If she calls in, could you let her know that I came by? And that I need to speak to her urgently?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

Martin nods, his face softening for the first time. “I will. And if I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

With a sigh of resignation, Wanda hands him her card and manages a small, tight-lipped smile as a parting gesture.

Yes, you've disappeared on her before, but this time it feels different–a gnawing worry eating at her gut that she can't ignore. She knows it's not like you to abandon your responsibilities, not without a strong reason. You no longer have Natasha–or Yelena, for that matter–to turn to which makes it all the worse.

She needs to find you.

***

“She’s not home,” the words ring out, echoing in the grandiose lobby of your apartment building.

The statement is identical to the one she had been fed two days prior.

“Can I go up to the apartment?” she implores, searching for an excuse for them to let her in. “I... I left my purse there.”

But the concierge, rigid in his protocols, shakes his head. “I'm sorry, Miss. Without the tenant present or without their explicit permission, I can't let you in.”

You're not at your office. Not at your apartment. Your absence is a gaping void, pulling her to the brink of panic.

“But you don't understand,” she retorts, her voice stronger now, her fear manifesting as assertiveness. “I need to find her. No one has seen her in the recent week, and she's not answering her phone. I need to...I need to make sure she's okay.”

“Rest assured, she’s fine. She recently got in touch with us about the utility bills,” he assuages.

But it does nothing to quell her rising anxiety. Sure, you might have called about the utility bills, but that was a routine chore, something that could be done from anywhere, even automated. It didn't necessarily mean you were okay.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing headache brewing there.

“Did she say anything else?” she asks, desperation tinting her words. “Anything at all that might indicate where she is?”

He shakes his head, his expression distant and almost uncaring. “That was all.”

Her shoulders slump, her heart heavy, but her resolve unwavering. If she had to overturn every stone in the city, knock on every door, she would. She needs to know that you're safe.

Because even if the world believes you're okay, she knows better.

She knows you.

Later, that very same night, Wanda finds herself pacing restlessly in her living room like a caged animal. The worn floorboards creak under her weight as she tirelessly traces the same path over and over, her mind swirling, imagining the worst.

In her desperation, an idea occurs to her.

Natasha.

Their last conversation had been a little more than a week ago, but it had been far from pleasant. Accusations and blame were tossed around like grenades, and Natasha had left with a bitter parting shot.

She glances at the old wall clock. Late. Very late. But time has lost its meaning to her lately. It's been nothing but a constant reminder of your absence, every ticking second a chime of worry.

Chewing on her lower lip, she finally makes up her mind. She picks up her phone, her fingers trembling as they navigate to a contact she hasn't dialed in ages. She stares at the screen for a moment, then pushes the call button.

The dial tone drones in her ear. She waits, each ring echoing the magnitude of her worry. She needs to find you. And for that, she needs Natasha to pick up.

Wanda's breath catches in her throat as she waits, clutching the phone with trembling hands. The apartment feels still and silent, the only noise is that persistent, mocking ring.

Just when she's about to end the call, the dial tone stops. A beat of silence, then–

“Wanda?” Natasha's voice is clipped, cold even, but Wanda can't help but feel a surge of relief at hearing it.

“Natasha,” she breathes, her voice cracking. “I need your help.”

There's a pause on the other end, long enough for Wanda to feel a pang of doubt. She can almost see Natasha's face, the guarded expression that's become her default since the fallout.

“Why should I help you?” Natasha finally asks, her voice devoid of warmth.

“Because it's about her,” Wanda replies, her words tumbling out in a rush. “She's missing, Natasha. She's not at her apartment, not at work, and she's not answering her phone. I've tried everything. You're… you’re my last hope. Please.”

There's a long silence on the other end, the tension so thick she can almost taste it. Wanda can feel her heart in her throat as she waits, hoping against hope that Natasha will put aside their differences, their painful history, and help her find you.

Then, Natasha sighs, a sound that's both vexed and resigned. “Give me a few hours, Wanda,” she says finally, her voice laced with reluctance. “I'll see what I can find.”

Wanda manages a small, grateful nod, even though Natasha can't see it. “Thank you. I–I'll wait.”

The line goes dead, leaving Wanda with her worry and the late-night silence of her apartment. She drops onto the worn-out couch, her eyes fixed on her silent phone, her mind filled with thoughts of you.

But it turns out, she doesn't have to wait long. Five minutes later, her phone vibrates on the coffee table, startling her. Picking it up, she sees Natasha's name flashing on the screen.

That was peculiarly fast.

She answers it, her heart pounding.

“Why didn't you call her mother?” Natasha's voice is sharp, impatient.

Wanda blinks, visibly thrown off. “Her...her mother?”

“Yes, Wanda. Her mother!” Natasha sounds incredulous, exasperated. “She's in Montauk. She's been there for the past week. Her mother just confirmed it.”

Wanda's heart drops, a mix of relief and shame washing over her. She hadn't thought of calling your mother. In fact, she's been avoiding the idea altogether.

“I...I didn't call her because... because she blocked me,” Wanda admits in a small voice. “After she found out about my infidelity, she blocked me.”

There's a pause on the other end, followed by a deep sigh. “Well, now you know,” Natasha says, a hint of softness creeping into her voice. “She's in Montauk.”

With that, the call ends. Wanda is left staring at her phone.

She wastes no time buying train tickets for the following day.

***

Years have passed since Wanda last tread the well-worn path leading to your childhood home.

The once vibrant paint now peels and fades, no recent attempts at refurbishment have been made, and yet, it retains a charm that's impossible to overlook. Sitting all by itself on the beach, it's about the most peaceful spot Wanda's ever known.

She's always loved coming to your place in Montauk, even though she's acutely aware that your mother's affections for her have always been less than warm. But as she stands there now, the salty sea breeze tugging at her hair, she looks up in awe.

Her gaze is drawn to the attic window–your old bedroom. She imagines you might be there. She wonders if you're asleep, tucked away in a corner where your bed is and always will be. She thinks about what you might be dreaming of. Are they good dreams? Or the kind that makes you wake up in a cold sweat? The thought of you being troubled, even in sleep, makes her heart ache.

She wishes she could be up there with you, could slide into the room and sit down next to you. She'd love nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to pull you close and wrap you in her arms. She'd whisper in your ear, tell you that everything's going to be okay. “I'm here,” she'd say. “And I'm not going anywhere, not unless you want me to.”

But for now, she's stuck at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at that attic window. So with a sigh, she tears her gaze away, and turns back to the front steps. Eventually, her feet lead her to them, but she pauses, a knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. This isn't like the other times she's visited. There won't be a warm welcome from you, just the cold, guarded reception from your mother.

Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders and climbs the steps, her hand hesitating briefly over the door knocker. For a moment, she's tempted to turn back, to avoid the frosty confrontation. But she knows she can't. She's here for a reason.

The lingering echo of the knock seems to hang in the air before it's swallowed up by the constant rhythm of the sea. Then, the soft sound of footsteps resonates from within. Her pulse quickens in response. Fixing her eyes forward and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she readies herself for the encounter.

As the door creaks open, the familiar face of your mother appears. But her expression isn't the stern, guarded look Wanda has come to expect. Instead, her eyes hold a sense of knowing, as if your mother has been expecting her for a while now.

Wanda’s well-rehearsed words hang in her throat, momentarily lost amidst the surprise. But she quickly regains her composure, preparing to speak, when your mother breaks the silence.

“Took you long enough,” she says, her voice softer than Wanda remembers. “Come inside, dear.”

Taken aback, Wanda can only nod. She smiles politely at her in return as she steps across the threshold.

Soon enough, Wanda finds herself seated at the worn kitchen table, as your mother moves with an ease born of years spent there, preparing an early dinner. The scent of food simmering stirs the air, joining the comforting aroma of tea brewing on the stove.

As she cooks, she fills Wanda in on what’s been going on with you lately.

“She's been upstairs, in her old room, for days now,” she shares, nodding towards the ceiling as if it would help Wanda see you. “Doesn't come out much. Sometimes I hear her... crying, then nothing. She won't talk to me, no matter how much I try.”

Her usually steady hands reveal a hint of tremor as she stirs a pot on the stove. “I'm scared,”she admits, making brief eye contact with Wanda.

“I've been thinking... maybe it's about you.” she adds after a moment.

She doesn't say it like she's blaming Wanda, more like she's just trying to make sense of things. It leaves Wanda silent, turning the possibility over in her mind.

The kettle whistles, breaking the heavy silence. Your mom pours the hot water into a teapot and then turns to Wanda. “Tea?” she asks, like this is just any normal day.

“I’d love some tea, thank you,” Wanda responds, giving a brief nod. She takes the warm mug offered to her, the heat seeping into her palms. Afterwhich, she reaches for the jar of honey and adds a dollop of it in her tea.

As your mom settles down across the table, an uncomfortable silence fills the kitchen. The only sounds are the soft humming of the fridge and the occasional clink of a spoon against a cup as your mom stirs her own tea.

They just sit there, silently looking at each other over the worn kitchen table. Wanda takes a sip from her mug, feeling the tea's heat spreading through her, a pleasant contrast to the chilly November air that's started to creep into the house.

Every sip, every moment of silence, makes Wanda more aware of the pressing need to apologize to your mother. She's hurt you, her own daughter, and if what your mom suggests is true, she may even be the reason you've up and left your life in Manhattan.

Finding the courage, Wanda finally speaks up, her voice shaky but sincere. “I understand this may not change anything,” she begins, “But I need to apologize... for the pain I've caused. For betraying your trust, and more importantly, for betraying Y/N's.”

She can feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes, but she forces them back. This isn't about her pain; it's about yours, and perhaps your mother's too.

“I wish I can go back,” Wanda admits, her eyes falling shut to keep her tears at bay. “And undo everything.”

She pauses, collecting her thoughts before continuing. “I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. I've looked into the mirror and didn't like the person staring back. I was... I am... deeply flawed. But I'm trying, I really am. I've started therapy, trying to understand and learn from my past mistakes.”

Wanda takes a deep breath before proceeding. “Your daughter...she deserves the world. And I know, in your eyes and perhaps even in my own, I don't deserve her. But what I'm asking, I guess, is not for you to forget or to absolve me. It's for another chance. A chance to prove that I can be better. That I can make things right with Y/N. I’m asking for your blessing, should it be possible for us to try again.”

After her heartfelt confession, your mother just quietly sips her tea, her gaze steady on Wanda. The silence is deafening, broken only by the regular ticking of the kitchen clock.

Wanda squirms under the silent scrutiny, but she doesn't look away. Instead, she meets your mother’s steady gaze, even if her own eyes are red and her vision is blurry.

“I… I know actions speak louder than words,” she adds quietly, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “And I'm ready to do whatever it takes, no matter how long it may be, to show you... to show Y/N, that I am capable of change, of being the person she deserves.”

Then, it's quiet again.

The silence stretches on, and just when Wanda thinks your mother might never respond, she sets her tea down and begins to speak. But it's not a direct answer to Wanda's plea. Instead, she starts to tell a story.

“You know, Y/N was always a deeply emotional child,” she begins, her voice soft and her eyes distant, lost in memories. “She had this incredible ability to love, to pour all of herself into someone or something. She trusted easily, loved fiercely.”

She pauses and takes a slow breath, her gaze turning sadder. “And because of that, she often got hurt. People took advantage of her kindness, her unwavering loyalty. They saw her love as something to exploit rather than treasure.”

Wanda blinks in surprise when your mother extends her hand, clasping hers firmly on the tabletop. The unexpected touch all but strikes a chord.

“She's been through a lot, Wanda. Her heart's been bruised more times than I care to count. But she still loves with all she has, still trusts, even when she's been betrayed,” she says. “As her mom, all I ever wanted was for Y/N to find genuine happiness.”

Tears well up in Wanda's eyes, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks in crooked streams. With her free hand, she wipes them away hastily, while her other hand clings to your mother's in a gesture of guilt and a plea for forgiveness.

Your mother waits for Wanda’s wracking sobs to subside, before she gently lets go of Wanda’s hand and then looks out the window, her eyes turning steely.

“I don’t doubt your sincerity,” she tells Wanda. “But what I need is to see that light in her eyes again, that joy she used to have. If you can help bring that back to her, then we can talk about forgiveness.”

Wanda can do nothing but nod as she accepts the challenge of the task.

Your mother slowly rises from her chair, gathering the empty mugs on the table. “I've prepared dinner for tonight,” she says. “You can serve it when you're both ready.”

Wanda looks up, her eyes reflecting her confusion, “You're not staying?”

With a soft smile, your mother shakes her head, “I'll give you two some space to talk and sort things out. I'll be staying with a friend tonight.”

The offer leaves Wanda momentarily stunned, but she recognizes the trust and faith your mother is placing in her. It's a responsibility she doesn't take lightly, and she nods, hastily pulling herself together.

“Thank you,” Wanda says, her voice soft. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

Your mother reaches out to touch Wanda's arm, her eyes filled with understanding.

“Just do right by her,” she says.

After your mother grabs her purse and car keys, she leaves, the door closing behind her with a quiet click.

Wanda is left standing in the empty house. She looks around thoughtfully, the smell of the cooked dinner still lingering in the open space. Then, her eyes stray upwards towards the attic. She can't help the nervous flutter in her stomach as she thinks about what awaits upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, she firms her stance and prepares herself to face you.

As Wanda navigates the familiar hallways of this house, she's assaulted by a flurry of memories.

Most vivid of all are the memories of your bedroom during your college years. That sacred space where you both had surrendered to your desires, the place where you both discovered each other in the most intimate ways. The countless nights when whispers and soft sighs were swallowed by the plush pillows, the sheets a tangled mess of sweat and evidences of pleasure.

Each memory, each recollection, sends a shiver down her spine. She remembers the taste of your lips, the softness of your skin, the way your eyes would darken with desire. She remembers the feel of your body against hers, the thrill of being the only one to see you unravel.

She remembers the way you’d moan out her name. The way your breath would hitch when she touched you, the way your fingers would trace patterns on her skin. The way you would look at her, as if she was the only one that mattered, the only one you saw.

Chiding herself, Wanda shakes her head, a blush coloring her cheeks as she catches her mind in the gutter. While she terribly misses you, aches to be with you, this isn’t about her longings or her desires.

No, this is about checking on you. It's about making sure you're alright and not alone. That's the priority, and it's what keeps her focused right now.

Moving towards your room, Wanda raises her fist to knock, but as her knuckles make contact, the door creaks open on its own accord. She freezes, the noise sounding overly loud in the deafening silence of the house.

The sight that greets her makes her breath hitch. There you are, asleep in your bed, your back to her. Curled up under your Star Wars covers, you seem so small, so vulnerable. A small smile pulls at the corners of Wanda's mouth, seeing you cocooned in remnants of your adolescence–the old covers, the posters lining the walls, the trophies gathering dust on the shelves. It’s endearing, and so quintessentially you.

Wanda carefully slips off her shoes, setting them neatly next to your own pair by the door. The room is quiet, save for the soft sound of your steady breathing. She doesn't want to disturb your peace, doesn't want to pull you from what seems to be a rare, restful sleep.

With cautious movements, she edges towards the bed, lifting the corner of the blanket. As silently as she can, she slips under them, feeling the familiar warmth they hold. She shuffles closer to you, wrapping her arms gently around you from behind. Your body is a comforting presence, the steady rhythm of your breathing lulling her own worries.

As if on cue, even in your sleep, you move closer to her. You shift backwards, snuggling into her arms as if your body remembers the familiarity of her presence.

Closing her eyes, Wanda allows herself to relax for the first time in days. The constant worry, the relentless anxiety of the past week begins to ebb away. Here, holding you, she finally allows herself to succumb to her own exhaustion.

A while later, beneath your lids, your eyes move restlessly. And like the recent days, it's the same nightmare that haunts you. Wanda, lying motionless in a hospital bed, a sight that sends cold tendrils of fear winding around your heart.

In your dream, you're a phantom, invisible and unheard. You're screaming, pleading, shouting for someone to hear you, to help her. But your voice, your presence, goes unnoticed. You watch helplessly as her heart rate dips, her once vibrant life draining away before your eyes. And then the dreadful flatline–

With a start, your eyes fly open. The world spins for a moment before settling down. In your sleep, you've moved so that Wanda now lays on your chest, sleeping soundly. Your arms are wrapped securely around her, a protective gesture that feels as natural as breathing.

As your eyes adjust back to reality, your mind doesn't quite catch up in time. For a moment, you believe this too is a dream. But in this one, Wanda is safe, wrapped snugly in your arms, far away from any harm. With gentle fingers, you start brushing through her soft hair, the familiar motion soothing. You find yourself slowly massaging her scalp, a habit from the good old days.

The gentle motion stirs Wanda, her eyes fluttering open to meet your startled gaze. As she squints up at you, drowsy and slightly confused, the pieces fall into place for you. This isn't some surreal dream.

Wanda is actually here, with you.

“W-What time is it?” Her question is barely a whisper, the words escaping her in a quiet, sleep-addled mumble.

Your response is a knee-jerk reaction, a surprise that compels you to pull away. But there's nowhere to retreat, no room to distance yourself from the reality before you. Trapped between Wanda and the wall, in the confined space of the single-sized bed, you have nowhere to go.

“W-Why…” you begin, your voice coming out raspy from sleep and shock. Your eyes dart around as if seeking an escape.

Before you can finish your sentence, Wanda’s hand reaches for yours, her fingers curling reassuringly around your wrist.

“Hey, it's me. You're okay,” she murmurs softly, but you remain tense, suspicious.

You don’t try to scramble further away, but you remain tense under her touch.

“Why are you here?” you finally manage to get out, your voice trembling slightly. “You shouldn't be here. You need to go.”

Wanda looks jolted at your words, her eyebrows shooting up. “Go?” she echoes, incredulity seeping into her tone. “Why would I go? You've been missing for days. I've been worried sick.”

Your heart aches at the crack in her voice, a clear indication of her sleepless nights, but the need to protect Wanda from you overpowers your sympathy.

“I can't...I can't tell you why,” you stammer out, hugging your knees to your chest, using them as a barrier between you and her.

Wanda's grip tightens around your wrist. “Why not?” she insists, her voice laced with frustration. “You can't just disappear and expect me to leave when I finally find you.”

“Because you’re not safe,” you say, avoiding her eyes.

“But why?” She pushes, her voice shaking with worry. “What do you mean I'm not safe?”

You struggle to find the right words, your throat dry. “You just... you just aren't, Wanda. Please, just leave.”

Her eyebrows pull together as she stares at you, as she searches your face for some explanation. Then, a name flickers across her expression, and her body goes rigid.

Pietro.

Shit.

What did he do?

“Y/N?” Wanda utters slowly. “Did you… Did you find out about my–”

“Yes,” you cut her off. Not wanting to hear from Wanda herself what–

What you’ve put her through.

The memory of the hospital report you secured after you found out, the graphic details of the picture that was sent to you—they've been haunting your nightmares for days.

Your hand slips out of hers as you awkwardly sit up, pressing your back against the unyielding concrete with a wince of discomfort. Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide and her lips parted, as if she's just now realizing the gravity of what you’ve been really dealing with.

“I found out, Wanda. About the pills,” you say quietly, your voice shaking. “The night I left...you overdosed. And I–I didn't even know.” You run a hand through your hair, frustration and guilt making you feel sick.

“That's why you can't be here, Wanda. That's why you have to leave. Because I can't... I can't be the cause of your pain anymore.”

Wanda looks at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, then, as if a switch is flipped, her expression crumbles.

Despite all the tears she's already shed over the past week, she finds that she's not done yet. She's cried so much she thought she had nothing left, but there's always more when it comes to the pain you're both in.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells you firmly. She says it like she's trying to drill it into your head, her jaw set, teeth clenched. She wants you to believe her. She needs you to believe her.

It's not your fault.

The dam holding back your own tears finally gives way. “How can you say that, Wanda?” you choke out, your voice shaking as much as you are. “I have proof that I almost killed you!”

But Wanda just shakes her head, stubborn as always. She won't accept what you're saying, won't see the truth of the matter. And so, you switch tactics.

“Why are you still here, Wanda?” you ask, your voice suddenly cold. “Why are you still looking for me? Why do you act like you still...care? Is it guilt? You cheated on me and now you're stuck with me out of pity? Do you pity me because you got the good side of this mess?”

Your words hang heavy in the silence that follows. Wanda just blinks at you, her eyes wide and shock clearly etched on her face. She pulls back slightly, her face flushing with a mix of hurt and anger.

“You think I pity you?" she whispers, her voice shaking with the intensity of her emotions. “You think this is guilt?”

But before you can answer, she's already shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “No, you're wrong. It’s not pity, it’s not guilt. It’s...it’s…”

Her voice breaks off as she clutches the fabric of your shirt in her fists. “It’s because I love you, you idiot,” she finally admits, her confession plunging the dagger further into your beating heart. “Despite what they say…despite all of it, I still love you.”

It's raw and painful and beautiful all at once, but it also scares you more than anything. Because if Wanda still loves you, despite everything that's happened, then you're going to have to fight even harder to protect her from yourself.

“Wanda, I…” you try to protest, to explain, to push her away, but your words die in your throat when she suddenly crashes her lips onto yours. It's fierce and demanding, full of so many unsaid words and bottled-up emotions.

Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer while one of her hands finds its way to your hair, holding you in place. She's practically clinging onto you, as if she's afraid you'll disappear again.

Your initial shock fades away as the kiss deepens. You melt into her, your resistance collapsing. Your arms instinctively go around her waist, pulling her closer until there's no space left between you.

Everything narrows down to the sensation of her lips moving against yours. The kiss is intoxicating and it's not long before you find yourself giving in, the guilt and fear momentarily forgotten.

What you’ve put her through.

But the words flash behind your eyes again. You can't help but question if this, the intoxicating sensation of being with Wanda Maximoff, can absolve you of it all.

Your thoughts whirl, but Wanda seems to know exactly what you need. She breaks away just enough to capture your hands, bringing them to her flushed cheeks.

And then, with her eyes closed, trusting, she whispers, “You’re not hurting me, Y/N.” Your hands tremble as they stay on her face, moving cautiously, as if she's a fragile piece of glass that might shatter under your touch.

When Wanda opens her eyes, you're struck by their clarity, their luminosity. “See?” she whispers. “All I feel is how much you love me. I–I know you do…”

In the next beat, she's guiding your hands lower, slipping them beneath her shirt to rest against the warm skin of her waist. Without thinking, your fingers begin to move, massaging the soft dips of her stomach, tracing the familiar curves and lines of a body you've known and cherished for years.

“All I feel is your warmth. Your tenderness,” she murmurs, a slight catch in her breath as your hands start to move upwards, brushing aside her bra to gently cradle her breast. “Your desire. Your love that nurtures me, makes me thrive,” she finishes, a small gasp escaping her as she feels herself responding to your touch, her nipples hardening against your palm.

“So, please, Y/N,” she cries desperately as you wordlessly make quick work of removing her shirt and bra. “Please don’t make me go. I need you.”

It's hard to resist her, especially when she looks at you with such pleading eyes. You’ve always had a difficult time saying no to Wanda, and this moment is no different.

After shedding your own shirt, you pull her close, the skin-on-skin contact sending sparks through your veins. For a moment, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, tangled together in a cocoon of your own making.

Your resolve wavers, then collapses. You can't deny her, not now, not ever.

Taking a deep breath, you lean in to press your forehead against hers. “I want to make you feel good,” you say, and before Wanda can utter her agreement, you press your lips against her delicately.

The kiss is slow and tender, a gentle exploration rather than a heated demand. It's a promise, a vow to take your time and be mindful of her needs. You want to make up for all the hurt you've caused her, and this is where you'll start.

Without breaking the kiss, you carefully guide back down on the bed. Your fingers dance over the button of her jeans and when you can't proceed without breaking the kiss, you do so reluctantly. Wanda lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, her impatience showing as she moves her hips to aid you in removing her pants. Once she’s left in just her underwear, you take a moment to appreciate the sight before you.

Wanda, naked in your teenage bed, her skin flushed and her thighs pulled together to relieve the delicious ache in between them. And your instinct is to worship every inch of her until she’s calling out to another higher power in the midst of your care.

Growing restless, Wanda eases herself off the bed, just enough to clasp the nape of your neck, drawing you back to another sweet entanglement of her lips.

This time, you get lost in the moment, letting your tongue outline the shape of her mouth, tasting the mix of her salty tears and the sweet remnants of her honeyed tea. You leisurely familiarize yourself with her, navigating the familiar paths inside her mouth, until the top of your thigh accidentally bumps into her clothed center.

The sudden touch makes Wanda gasp. Her head rolls back, her eyes tightly closed, and you press into her again–harder. You watch as her mouth forms the perfect 'o,' each quick, sharp puffs matching the rhythm you’ve now set with your hips. Your hand trails down from the nape of her neck, across the delicate expanse of her shoulders, before settling on her waist, using it as a leverage to drive harder into her.

“Y/N–P-Please…” Wanda's plea hangs in the thick air between you two. She doesn't know exactly what she's asking for, only that she'll lose her mind if you don't act soon.

Knowing what she needs, you push her thighs apart and lift them towards herself, until her knees are almost touching her shoulders. Grabbing her bottom, you tilt her hips slightly upwards, slotting your thigh directly over Wanda’s cunt.

And then, without warning, you lower down to start driving your leg into her soaked core.

“Baby, what are you–oh, fuck!” Wanda can't hold back the scream that's torn from her throat.

Your fingernails dig sharply into her ass as you encourage her to fuck your leg. Your arms are working hard, holding up the lower half of Wanda's body at the precise angle you need. You duck your head to suck on the hollow of her throat, making Wanda squirm as she encircles her arms around your shoulders, keeping you in place.

While you continue to maintain your rhythm, her slippery underwear—the lone piece of clothing she still has on–becomes too drenched that they slide right into and get stuck between her pussy lips, the folds of the fabric adding a pleasurable friction to her clit. At this moment, you decide to let your mouth venture further down her torso until it finds a hardened peak, and you waste no time immediately nursing on her teat.

In a matter of seconds, Wanda feels the familiar coil in her belly. Her escalating cries, coming in sharp bursts, echo in your ear, a clear indication of the inevitable. She wraps her legs around your waist as her breathing becomes more frantic, encouraging you to plough into her mercilessly. On the next thrust, your hand releases its grip on one of her buttocks to push her panties aside and pump two fingers into her without preamble, before switching your mouth to her other nipple, giving it the same furious attention.

“Fuck, I’m–nnnghh!” Wanda yelps, and all it takes is one more slam of your hips before Wanda's entire body stiffens, her back arching into a perfect bow. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from closing your teeth around her areola as you feel her continue to buck against you, riding the final waves of her high.

Moments later, you finally let go of her nipple with a wet pop when she weakly tugs at the back of your head, and you gently lap at the reddened area, tending to it with soft kitten licks. Once you’re satisfied, you climb back up to softly kiss Wanda’s closed eyelids, feeling her body slacken in your hold as she slowly recovers from her orgasm.

You continue to sprinkle a few more kisses randomly across her face, until her giggles ripple through you, the sound of her laughter chiming like bells in your ears.

“Good?” you ask while still inside her, your other hand caressing the curve of her cheek as you gaze into her eyes, ensuring she's completely comfortable in every way.

Wanda bites her lip and nods, a blush coloring her cheeks as she basks in the intense attention you're showering her with and the weak, come-hither motion of your fingers still inside her.

“Good,” you say with a soft smile, and then Wanda’s breath catches as your eyes darken once more, pulling your fingers out of her carefully before licking them clean. “Because now I want to taste you.”

“But you haven’t–”

“This is what I want,” you calmly assure her. In reality, you want a number of things. You want to apologize to her. You want to feel that she’s there with you. That she’s alive, even if she’s a puppet on a string, at the mercy of your mouth and fingers.

You want to erase the image seared into your mind of Wanda, lifeless and cold.

Wanda smiles at you, and you respond by leaning in to give her a gentle kiss, a silent promise that it’s not because you’re merely rejecting her touch. What you really want is to love her right now, and perhaps see her let go and lose herself in the moment.

Slowly, you start to trail kisses down her stomach, stopping just above her navel to playfully swirl your tongue within it, eliciting a reaction from Wanda as she arches her body upwards, offering herself to you. As you continue, your hands glide her underwear down her legs, before casually discarding it somewhere behind you.

Instantly, her scent fills your nostrils, making your mouth water. You fight the urge to dive right in, not wanting all of this to end too soon. You follow the smell of her arousal to its source, your nose skimming over the area above her pubic bone, the apex of her thighs, anywhere but where Wanda’s gushing out in need.

Wanda feels an urge to beg you to stop teasing, but she understands that's not what you're doing. She recognizes why you're taking your time, even though the deliberate pace is making her grow more frustrated by the second.

As for you, emotions well up inside as you discern that Wanda is surrendering to you, reminding you of your ability to make her feel good, to make her happy, and it's taking all your strength not to crumble and break down in front of her.

Even amid the heavy fog of desire, Wanda experiences a rush of gentle affection when she feels your fingers intertwining with hers, providing her a comforting squeeze. But Wanda should have taken that as her warning, when in a split second, she feels your tongue dart out to taste the length of her.

Wanda's head lolls to the side, her eyes tightly closed. She hadn't anticipated that the buildup would be this intense, that such a simple move would drive her crazier than usual. She whimpers as you lick her languidly, almost reverently, as if you’re memorizing her taste and every crease and every sound your tongue elicits.

This time, when Wanda reaches her climax, it's more than just the physical sensations pushing her over the edge.

It's your smile that she feels brushing her dewy skin, it's the hums of approval you're voicing, it's the way your eyes lock with hers, absorbing her every reaction, in sync with her sensations and emotions.

The way you’d rest your head on her stomach while catching your breath.

Much like how it was when loving her was something you were so proud of.

As midnight approaches, you finally give in to Wanda's pleas for you to stop. She's come more times tonight than ever before in her life, and with her stomach growling in hunger, all she can think about is the beef stew your mother left in the kitchen for both of you.

She extracts her tired body from your secure hold, and dresses herself in comfortable silence, while you sit on your bed, confused and not knowing what to do with yourself now that you’ve accomplished your mission of making Wanda come a record-breaking six times.

Wanda stretches languidly, much like a cat, her bones making small popping sounds that draw a soft moan from her. She then tells you that she'll warm up the dinner you were meant to have and bring it back up to eat in the room.

As she makes her way to the kitchen, the rich, comforting aroma of the beef stew your mother had prepared earlier that evening wafts into the hallway, causing her stomach to complain louder.

Approaching the stove, she finds the pot still sitting there, the stew inside cooled. She turns on the burner underneath, and waits for it to heat up. All the while, her thoughts continue to race. She wonders if giving herself to you tonight has somehow provided you with the comfort you needed after finding out about her overdose on the night you left.

Did it reassure you to see her not just alive, but right there with you? Did the intimate connection help to ease any lingering fears or guilt from that night?

Once the stew has warmed enough, she ladles it into two bowls and carefully makes her way back up the stairs. As she nudges the bedroom door open with her foot, she's met with a sight that warms her heart. You're sitting there, now modestly dressed in a pair of pajamas, looking far more composed than when she'd first walked into your room earlier in the evening.

Your hair is neatly combed back, and the lines of worry that had marked your face earlier have faded, replaced with a serene expression.

However, your eyes tell a different story. Something significant has shifted, and she can't quite put her finger on what it is.

“Will you set those down for a moment? I need to tell you something,” you tell her, your voice eerily calm. It sends a ripple of unease through her, yet she does as you ask.

Quietly, Wanda places the bowls of hot stew on the nearby dresser. The comforting scent of the dish wafts through the room, yet her earlier hunger has been replaced by an uneasy feeling that ties her stomach in knots. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

You take a deep breath before you begin, as if you're preparing yourself as well for what you have to say.

“I… I'm not sure how to go about it, or even why I'm doing it, but... you should hear this,” you start off.

“Last week, I... I tried sleeping with a stranger because I wanted to understand, to put myself in your shoes,” you continue, not waiting for her response. Wanda is quiet as she listens to your confession, each word slicing through her like a blade.

“I wanted to feel... what it was like for you when you chose him. When you chose him over us, over what we had,” you say, your voice wavering slightly.

Wanda can hardly breathe. “Y/N…”

“I couldn't do it,” you blurt out, your words spilling over one another in your haste. “Even though technically, we aren’t together, I… I couldn’t be with someone else,” you say in a choked half-sob, half-laugh that pushes Wanda dangerously close to a fresh torrent of feelings.

Tears flow freely down your cheeks now, your nose sniffling from the congestion. You sniffle, struggling to draw in breaths through your mouth to compensate for the hindered airflow.

“How?” you force out the question, your voice filled with aching pain as you look at Wanda, your face contorted with sorrow. “How was it so easy for you?”

Wanda doesn't have an immediate answer to your question, instead, she just looks at you, her heart breaking with every sob that shakes your body.

“It wasn't... it wasn't easy,” she finally stammers out, her mind frantically revisiting the long weeks she spent with Calliope, trying to unpack her baggage and find something, anything, that might ease your pain. “Nothing about this has been easy, Y/N.”

But she knows it's not the answer you want.

“I wish I had a straightforward answer,” she starts, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I wish I had a valid reason... something. But I don't... I just... don't. You were–are–everything to me, Y/N. You’re patient, loving, caring. You deserved so much better.”

She can't justify her actions. She can't explain why she risked the one person who loved her unconditionally. And it's a different kind of torment, the understanding that there's no satisfying explanation, no logical reason for her betrayal.

“I don’t trust you,” you admit to Wanda, a deep sorrow seeping into your voice.

“Y/N, I…” Wanda starts, but you raise your hand to silence her.

“Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me,” you cut her off, your voice a broken whisper. “But every time I see you, every time I'm around you, it's like... it's like I'm back at square one,” you continue, your voice strained. “I don't know if I can ever trust you again, Wanda. And worse, I don't trust myself around you.”

Your gaze drops to your lap, where your hands are tightly knotted together, knuckles white with the effort.

“And I don't know if this feeling will ever stop,” you add, more to yourself than to her. “I'm just so tired of it all. Tired of feeling this way, tired of... going around in circles.”

Wanda swallows thickly, her throat constricted. Her heart feels like it's being ripped apart at the seams as she watches you, so vulnerable, so hurt. All because of her.

“I...I could never have done that to you.” you tell her with finality.

“I know,” she answers, her voice filled with an emotion so raw it makes your chest tighten. “I know you’d never do anything to hurt me like that. It's... it's unbearable, Y/N. But I... I'm so sorry. I want to try, if you're willing... I want to earn your trust and forgiveness.”

“I need to earn your trust back,” Wanda corrects herself quietly, cowering, expecting you to laugh in her face with how delusional she is for begging you the one thing that she already destroyed. “I know it won't be easy, and I don't even know if it's possible, but I have to try, Y/N. I can't... I can't lose you again without even trying.”

A part of you rebels at the idea, reminds you of all the reasons why you should harden your heart and walk away–for the sake of you both. Yet, another part, a larger part, doesn't want to. Despite the hurt and betrayal, despite the broken pieces, you still care for her.

You want to trust her again. You want to be in love in the purest sense.

(You’re already in love, you just want to stop questioning it.)

“I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy to deal with,” you warn her, your voice thick with sincerity. “I can't just... sweep all of this under the rug, Wanda.”

“I can handle that,” she replies with a soft smile, her voice full of certainty.

“Can you really?” you question, disbelief plain in your tone. “What if you blindside me again? What if I do something that would put you in harm’s way again?”

Wanda nods knowingly. “Which is why we can't do this by ourselves alone.”

“What do you suggest?” you ask curiously.

“That we seek professional help.” she says without hesitation.

“Professional help?” you repeat, slightly surprised. You hadn't considered this avenue, but the complexity of your situation seems to call for it.

Her practical approach impresses you, her willingness to explore different ways to mend things. The idea of exposing your deepest emotions to a stranger in a clinical setting is intimidating. But if Wanda is willing to do it, to unpack everything and lay it all out in the open like a defenseless soldier in a middle of a battlefield, then–

“Okay,” you say finally.

“Okay?” Wanda looks up at you with wide, expectant eyes, making her look so innocent like a child.

You nod, your lips curling into a tentative smile. “I guess… we could try.”

A watery smile flickers on Wanda's face as she carefully circles her arms around your neck. You reciprocate her hug, hesitant at first, but then with more confidence as you both meld back into each other. For a while, you simply sit there, clinging onto each other, until Wanda’s rumbling stomach shatters the moment.

Chuckles bubbling up, Wanda draws back from your hold and says, “Should we get to that stew now?”

Grinning, you give a playful snort and rise to fetch the bowls of warm stew yourself.

Then it hits you, the real fear isn't the dread of her repeating the same mistakes nor the risk of hurting each other again.

No, it's the idea of her being here with you, and not putting in the effort to make things right.

And that, you decide, is something you don't think you could live with.

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flightlessangelwings · 6 months

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Ktober 2023 Day 22- Voice Kink

Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count- 955

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, praise, dirty talk, established relationship, no use of y/n

Notes- A little shorter one today, but still sweet! And who doesn't love Din's voice and want him murmuring in your ear?! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

Din groaned behind you as his cool helmet rested against your bare skin. His fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow and steady pace, and he savored every little moan and whine you let out. You sat in front of Din with your back to him as he cradled you against his chest. You felt safe there, and even though the only skin you felt were his hands, there was something more that turned you on.

He let out a deep sigh as he buried his fingers as deep as he could, “Feel so good,” he mumbled.

His low tone sent a pulse of need up your spine, and you moaned loudly in response.

“Like that, cyare?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“Yeah,” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Din sounded satisfied that he could bring you such pleasure as he resumed his thrusts with his fingers.

For several moments, the only sounds in the tiny room were your moans as Din worked you with his expert touch. He almost felt as if he could feel your warmth though his armor as you leaned your back against him. And the heat from inside your body sent a rush of need to his cock. But tonight neither of you were in a rush. This wasn’t an explosion of passions where you needed to feel the other cum as hard as possible. No. This was different. This was slow and sensual, and Din just wanted to savor the feeling of you under his touch.

“Din?” you asked in a whisper.

“You alright, love?” he replied with a hint of concern in his voice.

“Can…” suddenly you found yourself embarrassed about what you were about to ask, “Can I hear your voice more?”

He let out a soft breath as he paused.

“I,” you cleared your throat, aware that his fingers still stayed buried inside you, “I like the sound of your voice,” you admitted shyly, “I want to hear you more.”

This was something new, and it caught Din off guard. It was hard to catch him off guard too, and he had to admire you for that. But, he would also do anything for you. And, as requests went, it was far from the most bizarre thing you could have said, “Anything for you, my love.”

Just that alone made you whine, “Yes, Din,” you moaned, “Just like that.”

He had to admit, the sound of your voice too made his cock twitch. Perhaps you were on to something here. “I want to hear you too, cyare,” he murmured in your ear, “Show me all those lovely sounds you make when my fingers are inside you.”

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered as you clenched around Din’s fingers, “Maker… Din…”

He growled as he pumped his fingers a little faster, “You like that, huh?” he cooed, “You like when my fingers fill you up?” his tone dropped, “While I tell you how good you are for me?” Din had no idea where that came from, but it turned him on just as much as it did you.

“Yes,” you moaned as your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths, “Din, please… More…”

“That’s it,” he purred, “I know you can be louder for me.”

The groaning of his voice went right to your core, and you arched your back against him as you let out a loud cry of pleasure. Even when you were too lost in your bliss to make out the words, just the low rumble of his smooth voice sent jolt and jolt of pleasure through your body. You moaned loudly as the room started to spin.

“You going to cum for me, my love?” he purred in your ear, “Show me how beautiful you are when you cum for me?” Din found that the dirty talk came surprisingly natural to him. Maybe it was because it was you, that he felt safe and comfortable with you. And even if it was something different, Din trusted you just as much as you trusted him. And that trust only made him love you more.

“Yes… Please… Din…”

“That’s it,” he cooed as he crooked his fingers inside you, “Fuck you feel so good around my fingers,” he growled when you let out a low moan, “Fuck.”

“Maker, Din,” you whimpered at his growl. His low tone went right to your core and you clenched around him, “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum love,” he groaned, “Cum for me.”

With that, you fell apart at his touch. The mix of his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside you and the low rumble of his voice pushed you over the edge. Din held you through your climax, talking you through it as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“That’s it, cyare,” he murmured, “I’ve got you. Just let go.”

“Din…” you whimpered as your body trembled from the aftershocks of your climax.

“Love…”

You let out a deep breath as you collapsed into his chest. Din wrapped his free hand around you, holding you close as he whispered soft praises in Mando’a to you. You hummed contently as you closed your eyes and settled in his arms.

“I love you, Din,” you whispered.

He groaned as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, rubbing his thumb across your body in a comforting motion when you whined. Tightening his grip on you to keep you as close as possible, he murmured back, “I love you too, my star.”

If that was what it was like riding Din’s fingers with his voice in your ear, you couldn’t wait to ride his cock while he whispered encouragement and even dirtier thoughts.

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queenshelby · 11 months

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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART ONE: ONE NIGHT STAND

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Notes/Background:

As mentioned before, I have decided to rewrite this story which is a story I have become invested in. I made some changes to the background, location and interactions between my characters so that I can follow a story outline and whilst the reader in this fic has a very specific racial and social economic background, I decided to use reference to “you” and “Y/N”. I hope no one is put off by this.

The fic plays in 2022 and, in midst of going through separation, Cillian has decided to take six months off from acting in order to volunteer at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, located in the heart of Dublin.

The following characters are relevant to this story:

Cillian (46)

In this fictional piece, Cillian is 46. Just six weeks ago, he moved out of his material home following yet another argument with his wife Danielle who, just like him, works in the industry. She is an actress.

He now rents an apartment in Dublin while going through the initial stages of divorce and, whilst he is struggling to adapt to his new life, he knows that it had been coming. Their marriage had been in distress for the past two years, ever since Danielle cheated on him with another actor while on set.

Danielle (42)

Danielle is Cillian’s soon to be ex-wife. She, too, is struggling to adapt to the new living arrangements but has already gone on a few dates in order to get her mind of the separation.

Danielle will play an important part later in this fic.

Dermont (50)

Just like in real life, Dermont is Cillian’s friend who has been trying hard to get Cillian to go out and let his hair down.

Dermont too is married, with children, and will play an important part throughout this fic.

Nina (13)

Nina is Cillian’s daughter who he sees occasionally now that his wife makes it difficult for him to gain access to his children. Nina, however, has her own mind and does what she wants, causing some trouble for both of her parents.

Nina’s biggest passion is dancing and she attends an elite program at the Dublin Academy of Dance. The lessons take place twice per week, after school.

Nina also has a close relationship with Cillian’s mother, aka Grandma Murphy.

Max (16)

Max is Cillian’s son and spends a little more time with his father than his mother would like. At 16, he too does his own thing and, just like his father, he enjoys acting.

Kit (32)

Kit is Cillian’s personal assistant and will play a bigger part in this fic later on.

James (24)

James is your on and off boyfriend throughout this fic and attends acting classes with you.

Lorraine (23)

Lorraine is one of your friends. Lorraine also attends acting class with you.

Emma (23)

Emma is your best friend. You share a small studio apartment with her which, essentially, is all you can afford. Emma moved to Ireland with you in 2019 after you both received an international scholarship through an UNESCO project. Both of you migrated to America as children, without parents, and went through the so-called foster system there. You never found a real home back in the US and Emma was always the one who kept you in check and, whilst you were dedicated to your work, you did some things in your teens of which you were not exactly proud of.

You (22)

After having been in and out of foster care in the US, in 2019, you moved to Ireland through a scholarship program.

You are interested in literature, theatre, acting, music and, in particular, dancing.

You are an incredible dancer and teach ballet and contemporary dance to students at the Dublin Dance Academy after spending most of your days at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, learning how to act on stage.

You are in your final year of studies and your dream is to act, on stage, in front of a large audience. Unfortunatly for you though, you are rather self-conscious about your past and sometimes struggle with confidence.

What you do not know however is that your life is about too change following a night out in Temple Bar with your best friend. You will leave your past behind and become more confident with the help of someone who you never thought you could connect with.

CILLIAN’S POV

‘Common Cill! You need to get out of the house and have some fun. Let’s go for a pint. Or two…’ Dermont said to his friend as they were sitting on the couch, talking about how Cillian’s wife had caused some problems again with the children’s school. Cillian was frustrated and the exhaustion was written on his face.

He felt depressed and upset that it had come to this as, for years, he tried hard to stay with Danielle for his children’s sake. Eventually though, he gave up and this meant that he could see his children less often now, only three out of seven days per week, unless, of course, Danielle changed her plans.

After twenty years, the love was gone and so was the passion. Danielle was no longer loyal to him and Cillian had to revaluate his life at the age of 46. The two of them fought a lot and this affected the children who, just last week, said to Cillian’s mother that they were glad for the fact that their parents had finally called it quits.

Ever since their separation though, Cillian acted like hermit and stayed at home. He watched TV or listened to music, not feeling the need to go out until, eventually, his best friend had enough of it.

“I don’t know pal. I am not in the mood” was what Cillian said while Dermont barged into his friend bedroom and opened up the cabinet, looking for something for Cillian to wear.

“Too bad. We are going out. I am not taking no for an answer” Dermont responded before telling his mate to go and shower which, eventually, he did.

YOUR POV

It was Thursday evening, around 6 o’clock when you sat in the university library and packed up your books and laptop before making your way to Temple Bar. As usual, you were late and your friend Emma was probably already waiting for you.

Ten minutes later, she indeed greeted you at the door of the overcrowded pub, telling you that you were being impolite for keeping her waiting.

“I am sorry. I got caught up reading. Drama School is back next week and I need to be prepared” you said, apologising to your friend before giving her a tight hug.

“Nah, don’t apologise. I was just teasing you. I couldn’t possibly be angry at you” she smiled in response and, the truth was that, instead of being angry, she felt truly sorry for you.

You had recently broken up with James again and the break up itself was a difficult one. You were on and off, breaking up continuously, but this time you were certain not to go back to him. He had cheated on you after you had been with him for three years and the fact that he could do something so cruel broke you.

In the end, however, you stopped drowning yourself in self-pity and when Emma called you up, suggesting a girls’ night out, you agreed to join in.

Unfortunatly for you, however, your other friends, Nora and Lorraine did not come. They both attended Drama School with you and decided to see a play at the Gaiety, which was something you couldn’t afford to do. Thus, it was just you and Emma and Emma was certainly the odd one out between the four of you.

She was not in the same class with you and the others but, instead, studied fashion design worked as a bartender in Chelsea. She had dropped out of Drama School last year and was funky, outgoing and somewhat weird.

“So, are you ready to get tanked?” Emma asked as you simply stood there when you walked in, still pondering about your failed relationship.

“I rarely ever drink Emma” you reminded her and, the truth was, that you didn’t like to go out to bars and pubs either. You much rather sat at home with a good book in your hand while listening to some music.

“Well, too bad! Go and find a seat for us. We are going to get drunk and bitch about everything we hate about men, and believe me, I have a long list" Emma joked before disappearing into the crowd in order to fetch you a drink.

Just as Emma walked off, you looked around to see if you could find a table inside the crowded room but, to your disappointment, most of them were already taken.

It was a long weekend so the fact that most people were out drinking did not really surprise you and, when Emma returned with drinks in her hand, you could not help but laugh. She had purchased the most ridiculous looking cocktails, featuring both, a lot of cream on top and a Hawaiian style umbrella sticking out to the side. They were sickening to say the least but, unbeknownst to you, each of them had at least three shots of tequila.

“What is this? It looks and tastes awful” you then told her after you took a first sip from the large glass before, suddenly, you felt a slight nudge on your back which, ultimately, caused you to tumble forward and slosh your drink all over your friend’s shirt.

"Fuck” you spat as the man behind you who clearly ignored you even after running into you, so you turned around and scowled him.

‘An apology would have been nice’ you said with frustration as Emma was drying off her shirt.

‘An apology?’ he asked with a thick Irish accent before telling you that it was you who stepped back and pushed into him and his friend.

“I did not!” you said before you swallowed nervously. “You ran into me” you then pointed out again as your eyes were drawn to the stranger’s eyes. They were several shades of blue, just like the deep of the ocean. You had a thing for men with big and beautiful eyes and despite your annoyance with this stranger, you had to admit that he was rather attractive.

He was Irish for sure. His accent was strong and his skin was pale, featuring many tiny little freckles. He had slightly greying hair which were not too short and not too long either. They looked a little messy but this style was exactly what suited him.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a little worn around the knee area. His boots, too, were worn but probably expensive, made from brown leather and, around his right wrist, he wore a basic watch and on the other, he featured a leather band.

"Well, okay. I am sorry, alright? I don’t need an argument right now” the stranger said while you assessed him and it was obvious to both of your friend that you had caught each other’s attention. This handsome stranger was looking at you just as you were looking at him and his friend decided to take the lead.

“Yes, my friend here can be a little clumsy at times” he said to you before shaking your hand and introducing himself.

“I am Dermont by the way and I am less clumsy than my friend here who, as an apology, will buy you a drink” he joked, causing the blue-eyed stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I will?” he asked Dermont who gave him a quick a but reassuring nod.

“A drink would be nice. I am Y/N and this Emma” you said before shaking both of men’s hands and then asking for the other man’s name.

“And you? What’s your name?” you wanted to know.

“Cillian” the stranger responded and, after you told him that it was nice to meet him, Dermont prompted you both to follow them to the bar, which was when Cillian pulled his friend aside, asking him in a whisper about what he was doing.

“Helping you out with the ladies, mate. The one wearing the dress has caught your attention and there is no reason for you not to pursue her now that you are single again” Dermont whispered back while Cillian quickly shook his head.

“There is! She is in her mid-twenties at the most which is too fucking young” Cillian pointed out but Dermont was determined to make it happen anyway.

“Yeah, and? You don’t have to marry her. Just have some fun. Let loose. Take her home. I don’t know” Dermont said before making an interesting observation. “Despite, she clearly has no idea who you are so this is a huge bonus” Dermont told him before turning to you again and asking you what you wanted to drink.

“Gin and tonic would be nice” you said shyly before thanking him for the gesture.

“And your friend? What will she have?” he then asked for politeness sake but Emma was still not impressed by what happened.

“Nothing. I think I am leaving. I am all sticky and wet” Emma said angrily to the man who was looking at her somewhat dumbfounded now, which is when you spoke up and smiled.

‘Listen. She has had a bad day so, would you give us a minute please?’ you asked, not wanting the men to leave just yet.

You had your eyes on the clumsy blue-eyed stranger and, albeit the fact that he was clearly at least twice your age, he was cute, handsome and intriguing.

“I got to go home Y/N. I smell of Tequila now. It is gross. I am sorry, but you are coming with me, right? I cannot leave you here by yourself” Emma told you quietly but you shook your head.

“Would you mind if I stayed? These guys look harmless and the clumsy one is kind of cute” you asked before glancing over to the stranger again, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows.

“He is twice your age” she pointed out.

“And your point is?” you chuckled before you gave her a cheeky smile.

“Okay. He is attractive. I give you that. But you need to be careful, alright? He might be married or weird. Or possibly both” Emma lectured you and you raised a very important question, which clearly outlined your intentions to her.

“He doesn’t wear a wedding ring so I doubt that he is married” you pointed out before looking over towards the blue eyed stranger again and, immediately, your eyes met his. “So let’s say that he isn’t married or weird, would it be wrong if I was to hook up with him just for one night? I never had a one night stand before but he’s really hot and I really need to get over James. This could really help, you know…” you said, causing Emma to laugh.

‘It’s not wrong to have a one night stand silly. You are young and should let your hair down once in a while. James has been holding you back so I would say, go for it…” she told you, giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Now go and get him tiger. And text me if you are not coming home so that I know that you are safe” Emma then said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Yes mum” you joked before giving her a hug and disappearing into the crowd again to follow the stranger.

***

After a minute or so, you approached Cillian again. He was holding a gin and tonic in one hand and a pint of Guinness in the other. His somewhat random friend had disappeared and, without questioning him about it, you took your drink from his hand and walked over towards a quieter area with him.

“I am sorry about your friend” Cillian then said carefully while you smiled at him and leaned back against the wall.

“It’s fine, really” you told him almost shyly as he glanced at you with those sparkling blue eyes. They were large and magical and blended in nicely with his pale freckled skin.

“Where did your friend go?” you then asked while secretly hoping that he too had taken off.

“His wife called. He had to leave and told me to apologise to you for not saying goodbye” Cillian explained and you quickly realised that this was a set up.

“Really? His wife called, huh?” you thus teased, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Yes. That’s what he said. Although, to tell you the truth, I think that he was trying to set us up so, if you prefer, we can just leave it at that and go our separate ways” Cillian then said with great honesty and your jaw dropped.

“I knew it” you then laughed in response while trying hard to look surprised.

“How so?” Cillian asked.

“You aren’t a good actor. I didn’t believe you for a second when you said that his wife called. He told you to say that, didn’t he?” you chuckled causing the handsome stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I am not a good actor?” he asked. He was surprised by your statement but now knew for sure that you really had no idea who he was.

“No” you said, earning you a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose I wasn’t trying to put on an act” Cillian pointed out with laughter.

“Okay. Fair enough” you responded. “So, are you married?” you then asked, wanting to make sure.

“Why would my friend be trying to set me up with you if I was married?” Cillian asked surprised, chuckling again.

“I don’t know, but these things happen, so I want to be cautious. It just doesn’t make sense for someone like you to be single, you know…” you stammered before realising that you must have sounded like an idiot right now.

“Someone like me?” Cillian chuckled before answering your question. “I separated from wife six weeks ago, so I am single but, to be clear, I am also not interested in dating right now” he then pointed out with more seriousness and you smiled.

“Good. Because neither am I” you explained and, after a while, you got talking about more entertaining topics like books, music and even art.

Just like you, he was obsessed with literature and theatrics. He loved music and music was what you talked about the most. You learned that he had children and you told him about having migrated to Ireland from the US.

Talking with Cillian was fun. He seemed educated and very smart. He was funny too and, after about three drinks and endless conversations, you ended up asking about his age. You were curious and learned that he was in his mid-forties but, when he asked you about your age, you lied.

“I am 29” you said, making yourself a whooping six years older than you actually were.

“Really? 29?” he asked over yet another drink and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. Why?” you asked and he smiled.

“You look much younger” he admitted and you bit your tongue. You knew that lying was wrong but you also knew that, if you had told him your real age, the night may have ended right then and there. There was no way he would have been interested in you if he knew that you were half his age.

In the end, he believed you and, within the next half an hour or so, you were both up to your fourth drink and this is when Cillian glanced into your eyes and saw some uncertainty laced with a heavy dosing of lust.

But lust, you saw in his eyes as well and it did not take him long to close the last inch of air in between you and felt you jump at the contact.

��Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere a little quieter?” he then asked after almost two hours of talking and drinking, which, really, turned out to be exactly what you were waiting for. He had never done this before but also knew that he had nothing to lose. He wanted to take his chances with you and knew that it would, possibly, lead to more.

“Yes. Sure. Where do you want to go?” you then stammered as his eyes just dropped to your mouth again before, slowly, he leaned in, his lips just millimetres from yours now without touching them yet.

“Where do you live?” he then asked carefully, almost whispering the words into your ear and thereby testing the waters, but you knew that you could not have taken him home with you as you were living with your friend in a tiny studio apartment.

“Darndale, but my place is being renovated at the moment” you lied again. “How about you?” you then asked and he smiled.

“Not far from here” he told you with a hint of reluctance as well and, when you suggested for him to show you his place, he nodded carefully.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s get a taxi?” he asked and, once again you smiled and gave him a reluctant nod.

***

After you got into the taxi and Cillian gave the taxi-driver his address, it did not take you both very long before you finally started to make out.

The sexual tension that had built up between you was unreal and, just as you sat there, next to this stranger, like a shy little girl, his hand came to caress your leg as if this was the most normal thing to do.

He had a certainty about him which both intrigued and aroused you and, just as his fingers traced over your skin, he could feel you trembling.

As your tainted breath became shaky, Cillian leaned towards you, this time to taste the remnants of the liquor from your lips, and you let him.

His actions caught you by surprise but you gave into the kiss nonetheless. It felt good, incredible, and passionate.

After kissing your lips for a few minutes in the back of the taxi, Cillian then leaned down further and helped himself to the delicate skin along your neck. He kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive skin until you were writhing and making impatient little sounds from your throat. He then buried one hand into your hair and attacked your mouth again, capturing those rosy red lips with his ow.

His tongue soon demanded entrance and you were in no position to refuse. Your hands grasped at Cillian’s body as you gave into the onslaught of his tongue, darting in and out, teasing and caressing until both of you were breathless. Cillian’s mouth tasted sweet and yet bitter, the liquor still lingering on his lips. It tasted so good and you wanted more.

You were moaning freely against his mouth, your hands taking on a life of their own to roam across his back which is when Cillian broke the kiss and flirting time was over.

The taxi pulled up in front of his apartment building and you stepped out together and walked through the lobby.

***

The building itself was much fancier than what you were used to and, after less than a minute, you arrived at the elevator and Cillian pushed the button. Your heart was beating fast in your chest now and, just as you waited, you turned towards Cillian and pressed your lips against his again.

Without reluctance, he deepened the kiss and began to gently probe your mouth with his tongue. His hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading and you pulled yourself up against him feeling the length of him against your leg.

It was almost like the beast within you both had been unleashed at the same time and, when the elevator's bell chimed and the doors opened wide, you both stumbled into his penthouse.

His hands were on you in an instant again and the erotic sensation of this man’s touch alone sent a quiver through your body. He was so much older than you and, yet, you kissed and caressed each other like two teenagers in heat.

“I never…you know” you stammered nervously as Cillian’s hands were everywhere as you somehow managed to find your way in to his bedroom within mere seconds.

“You never had a one-night stand?” he asked just as you found yourself being pinned against the wall in the heat of the moment.

“No. Never” you responded, knowing very well that this was all this was going to be. A one-night stand. Nothing more and nothing less. That was what you both wanted and he made sure for you to know that before he took you upstairs.

“Do you want to stop?” he thus asked gently but you shook your head. You did not want him to stop. He made you feel good. Too good.

‘No’ you whispered eventually as you moaned with lust when his lips connected with yours again and you swung your arms around his neck, tugging on his curls.

You kissed and then caressed each other while you began to grind yourself against him, feeling the length of his hard cock through the denim of the jeans.

“Fuck. You are something else. Simply stunning” Cillian then whispered into your ear after nibbling on it gently, eliciting another loud moan from you.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?” he then teased and you shyly shook your head.

‘No, but I want to. I want you to fuck me. Right now” you whispered, running your hand over his crotch and it was becoming way too difficult for Cillian to control himself now. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

‘Good. Because I am unable to hold back much longer’ he then said before spinning you around, which is when, finally, you got a good look at where you would be experiencing your first time with anyone but James.

To your surprise, Cillian’s bed looked like something out of a magazine with a white comforter and an abundance of pillows resting against a large wooden headboard that arched backward toward the wall. Lamps on either side of the bed cast a warm yellow light around the room, making the entire space feel soft.

Just as you looked at it, the blue-eyed stranger came up behind you, kissing your neck and whispering into your ear again “let me take this off for you”

The man’s hands then went to the back of your dress where he released the zipper and, just as he did, you pushed the fabric to the floor and stepped out of it before kicking off your shoes. You were now undressed, wearing nothing more than a pair of black lace panties, and then, when you turned around to face this much older man again, his eyes went straight to your naked breasts.

‘Fuck, they are perfect’ he said almost inadvertently as he caressed your firm flesh before, finally, pulling each of your nipples slightly.

‘They aren’t too bad’ you giggled as his hands massaged your firm numbs before they wandered deeper and deeper until he made contact with your lace covered core.

“Lay down for me” he then ordered as your breathing increased with the sudden flash of heat radiating from both of your bodies. You could feel his eyes on your breasts still as you complied with his request and climbed on the bed.

“As you wish” you stammered nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t realise how inexperienced you truly were. You had only had sex with one man before and you most certainly were not in your late twenties, which is what you had told him earlier that night.

As you laid there though, you watched as the handsome stranger began to undress himself as well and, when his shirt finally came off, you could see his pale freckled skin which aroused you. His chest was covered with a patch of hair, some brown and some grey, matching the grey streaks of hair on his head. Then, there was also some hair which traced downwards from his belly button and you could not wait to see more.

‘You are fucking perfect’ the stranger told you as you looked at him with lust and hunger and, just as you thought you couldn’t get any more excited, he pushed down his briefs and revealed his raging erection to you which was glistening with precum already.

It stood up proudly and you realised that, unlike you, he was comfortable with being completely naked like this. He was bigger than James which, too, aroused you but also made you blush and panic a little.

You starred, and starred and still starred at his cock when he finally joined you on bed with a sleek smile on his face.

As soon as he landed on bed with you, his lips connected with yours again but, this time around, there was some more force and urgency to his kisses. He demanded you to part your lips and you complied, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth just far enough to touch yours.

He flicked it up and down quickly while pulling himself further into your core which, ultimately, pushed you onto the back of the bed.

Despite the heat and passion, the stranger remained rather calm and you loved that and hated it at the same time. You could not help but want to speed him up as you could already feel your heart pounding rapidly and vibrating through your chest. But he clearly had experience and knew not to rush it even despite the fact that you were both slightly drunk.

“Your lips are perfect. So soft and sweet. I could kiss you all night” the man then marvelled and you smiled as no one had ever kissed you like this, not even your boyfriend.

“You should. You are incredibly good at this” you stammered and then you shivered again as you felt his fingertips squeeze your hips.

“At what?” he asked just after you sucked his bottom lip between yours and grazed your teeth as deep as they would naturally go. You felt his jaw clench. In fact, you felt every muscle in his body tensing and then tensing more.

“At kissing me. In fact, I don’t think anyone else has ever kissed me like this before” you said shyly as your ankles were now locked behind the stranger’s knees and you didn’t remember consciously placing them there but, then again, you didn’t remember consciously doing anything since the moment you kissed him.

“That’s good. Then, perhaps I should kiss more than just your lips, shouldn’t I?” he then teased and, immediately, your hand pulled him by the nape of his neck further, right back against your mouth.

“You should kiss every part of my body” you confirmed and the stranger groaned against your lips with pleasure before moving his hands from your hips down your thigh tusking as much pressure as he could manage before he spread his fingers out as he journeyed just as ferociously back up.

“Every part you say?” he then teased as you tilted your head back, closing your eyes and using your sense of touch to the full while inhaling his scent.

“Yes, every part” you moaned and he looked up, seeing your soft closed eyes and plump lips in ecstasy and his view trailed down your neck and between your breasts.

“Very well then” he said as his hands slid around your back and he gripped the small of your back with his powerful fingertips.

The stranger soon felt you shiver and let his tongue slid up from the centre of your collar bone to the centre of your throat where he felt you suddenly gulp.

He sure was good at this, good at teasing you and he knew it too as he had a slight chuckle at your reaction to his touch and kisses.

You moaned loudly as he kissed you everywhere, which was something that sent shivers down his spine and yours. At same time, in between his assault on your tender skin, you smiled against his, trailing kisses over his throat and to his ear.

Lips and hands were everywhere now and his hands pressed firmly against your skin as he explored your body. He started at your thighs and pressed into your tight belly. He completely encased your rib cage with his large hands before lightening his touch as he began to caress your breasts.

‘Please don’t stop’ you moaned as, finally, the stranger hoovered over you and you were laying under him.

He then made it priority to grab your face with both hands and hold you in the longest, hottest kiss he knew you would ever have. He kissed down your neck and you used your strength in your arms and legs to press yourself up into his mouth until, finally, he let his tongue flick over one of your nipples.

‘God yes’ you moaned. It was too much for you to try and keep your hands from his body and you fought to keep your hands from trembling at the least as you streamed your fingers through his hair and made a request by tugging him further into your breast. He complied willingly, for a moment but was soon lost over your long flat stomach that he could feel quiver under his tongue. It was unlike anything else you had ever felt before and he hasn’t even gotten to your sex yet.

"What are you going to do to me?” you moaned and this stranger well and truly adored how nervous you were and how much you wanted him at the same time. You were a quivering mess and his lips and fingers did not relent.

‘Well, hopefully, I am going to make you cum” he mused, making you realise that, indeed, he knew very well what he was doing to you and your body, playing it like an instrument and tuning it to his will.

‘With, uhm…what…?” you huffed out as you could barely focus your eyes as you looked down at him just as his hands melted into your panties and lifted you up by the ass in order to take them off.

“I want to taste you and make you cum with my mouth” he clarified as his face was so close to your aching core and you gave up trying to watch him when your vision blurred from the throbbing heat wave through your body.

When this handsome stranger finally pulled down your lace panties, you heard a high pitched squeal that, a moment later, you realised came from your clenched teeth.

‘Fuck, you are perfect everywhere, aren’t you?’ he then said with a low and dark voice while glancing at your aching pussy before, with the width of his shoulders, he pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you just above your core, causing you to moan.

‘You are so wet already. I can see it’ he then said and you shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy and soon felt his fingers join in, running gently over your soaking mound.

“Oh god. Please” you then, finally, shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire wetness while he held your lips open with two of his fingers.

‘That feels so good’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.

Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much for you to bear. Trying to hold back, you shifted and squirmed beneath him and an involuntary scream escaped you.

‘It’s too much” you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit. No one had ever pleasured you like this before and you bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over it.

“I can’t, you need to stop, oh my god please” you fought with yourself, denying yourself what you craved the most. You could cum right then and there, explode against Cillian’s lips with desire, but it felt too heavenly and too intense. You did not know if you could withstand it, feeling overstimulated already.

“You can” the stranger whispered while pressing two of his fingers inside of you, pushing them right up against your g-spot as he watched you arch your back and cling on to the sheets.

“Please. I can’t…” you screamed out, moaning, your legs quivering.

“Yes, you can” he repeated with a sly smile before continuing his onslaught on your sex.

‘Fuck, oh god” you screamed again, still trying to fight your own release which felt too intense and too surreal.

“Give in to it and let me give you what you need" the stranger then told you and, with that, you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you came. So, you decided to let go for him even if that meant that you may make a fool of yourself.

As his mouth returned to your mound and his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing towards the unfamiliar feeling. And, when he finally sucked your clit into his mouth again, you were sent over the edge.

‘Fuck! Oh god! Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your legs began to quiver. Your body shook uncontrollably and your hands came flying down, getting caught in the stranger’s hair, pressing him against your sex before pulling him away again.

“Enough! Please” you choked as he wouldn’t relent and continued to suck and lick until you slowly calmed down.

‘See, I told you, you could do it’ the man then chuckled and you could not help but laugh and cry all at the same time.

‘Fuck’ you gasped. ‘I didn’t expect to cum like this” you stammered nervously, causing the stranger to smile and look at you with both, admiration and confusion.

‘Then what did you expect?’ he teased before he moved up and kissed your lips hard, making you taste yourself on his lips.

‘Not sure, actually. I just never had an orgasm from oral sex before’ you stammered nervously after he pulled away from you and used his palms to spread your lips.

‘Really?’ he asked, adoring your shyness and you nodded before moving your hand to his cock.

“Really” you said while stroking his cock, eliciting soft moans from him. “But I still need you inside of me. I want to feel you” you then told him while he positioned himself between your legs.

“Do you have condoms?” Cillian then asked, seeing that he was entirely unprepared for this.

‘No, but I am on the pill” you said nervously, knowing that things were about to become real. He was going to slide into you and you were nervous about it for some reason.

‘Good’ he responded. ‘I can’t wait to feel you’ Cillian then said as he ran his hands up the inside of your thighs, sliding them toward your pussy before using his fingers to spread your labia slowly and gently, dipping his index finger inside to cover it in your slippery juices again.

‘Please. Stop teasing” you moaned as Cillian moved the tip of his finger upward to find your clit, which had grown under the excitement and was now protruding from the protection of its hood. The sweet smell of sex filled his nostrils as he made small, slow circles with his finger.

‘So impatient aren’t we’ Cillian teased while angling his length downward to touch its head against the lips of your pussy. It was like a drug to watch himself rubbing against you, coating the head of his penis in a sheen of your slippery wetness.

‘Yes, please. I want your cock inside of me’ you begged again as you thrust with your hips forward, wanting him to penetrate you and, after a little more teasing, so he did.

“Like this?” Cillian teased as, slowly, but surely, he entered you and you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh god yes, fuck” you cried as he stretched you and began thrusting in and out of you almost right away after you pushed yourself against him.

‘God you are so tight’ Cillian groaned as he watched himself slide into and back out of your pussy. His cock was shiny, coated with your natural lubrication as he began to fuck you and, soon, his thrusts became harder and faster.

‘I feel so full…This feels so good…’ you moaned as ecstasy came in quick hot waves as the stranger pumped into you and you began to moan louder than before. You experienced an uncontrollable urge to howl that you could barely hold back and the stranger then suddenly gripped you as tightly as he could manage.

You both used every muscle in your bodies to create one living, writhing creature rather than two. Eventually, you cried out too loudly though and the man took you with the deepest most passionate kiss he ever possessed as you spiralled into a lazy heap.

‘You are taking my cock so well…’ the stranger groaned after a while and then he lifted upward, prompting you to raise your knees off the bed.

‘Fuck’ he continued on as he pressed into you again and you lifted your legs completely in to the air. He grabbed your ankles and held them in the air above his shoulders, continuing to thrust with the same speed and energy as before. Bringing your feet closer together increased the tightness for both of them. Spreading your legs apart gave him the entire view of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy and provided more stimulation for your clit which is when, without warning, you came hard.

‘Oh my fucking god’ you screamed and, as the muscles in your pussy tightened around his cock, the handsome stranger slowed his thrusts leaving himself almost all the way inside you. You let out a long, loud moan again and then bent your knees and pressed them tightly together, with your whole-body quivering.

He kept his swollen cock deep inside your as he felt the muscles inside your pussy squeeze him tight. He could feel several distinct strong squeezes amidst the overall tightness. Then you gradually softened before going completely loose. He rubbed your upper arms finding that they had exploded in goosebumps. He pressed his body forward as you relaxed your knees, sliding to lay himself on top of you. He kissed you first on the mouth and then on the sides of your neck, just under your ears.

‘You look so sexy when you cum’ he then said as, over the next few minutes, he mapped out a field of kisses across your neck and collar bone. He placed his kisses like stepping-stones in a slow, connected, but wandering path. Passionate. Loving. His erection was holding strong inside your warm pussy, but he hadn't moved his hips at all and you began to kiss him back, first slowly, then more rapidly. He felt your knees lift off the bed as you slid your hands down his back, grabbing his butt. Even though he was still completely inserted, you pulled him tight against you. You were ready for more.

“Can you cum again for me?” he then asked but you weren’t sure. You never came more than once, so you doubted your ability to cum a third time.

‘I don’t know’ you admitted, but the stranger smiled.

‘Well, we will see, won’t we?’ he teased before pulling out of you after all

"I want to fuck you from behind. Common” he then said as he sat up on his knees and you rolled over and positioned yourself on all fours.

His cock had softened slightly while you had stopped fucking, but it was now back to being fully erect. He watched the tip bounce slightly as it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. It looked and felt thicker than usual.

‘Fuck, look at this pussy of yours. You are soaking’ he groaned as he put his cock in his hand and positioned himself behind you. He angled himself downward to meet your inviting pussy and then he pushed in, with one single thrust.

He felt as though he was able to penetrate you more deeply in this position and, with each consequent thrust forward, you shrieked as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against him, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

The pleasure was overwhelming and, every time you were about to cum, he teased you and slowed his movements.

You had both hit a plateau where everything seemed sensational but you could not last much longer.

"Fuck me hard. I want to cum again” you gasped and so he did. You requesting him to fuck your harder had provided that extra bit of stimulation that was ultimately too much. In an instant, he shifted from feeling like he could last forever and was now into impending orgasm countdown. He wanted to hold off long enough for you to cum together, and he was suddenly very close. But so were you. Again.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he groaned as he spread his knees a bit wider so he would be lower, and his angle of penetration would rub closer to your clit.

“I am so close again” you then moaned as he also shortened his thrusts so the head of his cock would come completely out of your pussy and then only go about half-way back in. He let go of your hips and bent over to cup your breasts while kissing your back.

‘Then let go for me’ he groaned as he, too, was about to explode and raised his torso back up and pulled himself completely out of your pussy.

The air of the room felt cold against his cock compared to the heat from inside you. He used his hand to rub the swollen head of his cock up and down against your pussy lips teasing you, but you pushed backwards and engulfed him again.

"Fuck me hard," you repeated, almost yelling.

"What's that? You want me to fuck you hard?" he asked, pulling out again.

"Yes," You answered with a moaning voice. "Please."

"With this?" he asked, tapping the head of his cock against your pussy.

"Yes. Fuck me with your cock. Hard and fast” you gasped and, with that, he roughly pushed back into your wetness, spearing you on as your mind bubbling orgasm overwhelmed you.

You suddenly screamed, shivered and convulsed in orgasmic bliss and it was when you fully gave into him, that Cillian reached his high as well, filling you with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ he groaned as he thrusted back in. His shaft began to throb and he felt himself spurt once as he thrust in, then again as he pulled back. He continued to feel pulses of his orgasm come faster than he could fuck you now but you were past it. You were at your peak and the sensations of your pussy changed again, prolonging your orgasm, as he pushed through his own load inside of you. It was a fantastically satisfying feeling. As the pulsing continued, he wondered how much cum he was leaving inside you. It felt like a lot.

‘Jesus. God. Stop please’ you moaned as it became too much and he slowed down. His cum had leaked down his shaft and was covering the entirety of his cock, your pussy and its lips, pushing out on the sides of your tight hole as he finally withdrew from you.

After he pulled out, some streaks of your combined juices poured out of your slit and onto the sheets which, for some reason, felt incredibly satisfying.

‘Now this was not how I had expected tonight to turn out’ Cillian then said as he looked down on you with even more lust after you collapsed onto the bed, still panting and with your legs spread. Seeing his achievement aroused him all over again and he took his fingers to spread the lips of your pussy apart to get a better look.

‘Me neither’ you confirmed just as Cillian pushed two fingers into you and, you couldn’t help but shriek for which he appeared delighted.

When he pulled them out, they were covered in cum and you looked at him and yourself before reaching for his hand and guiding it to your mouth.

‘Jesus, really?’ he asked surprised as you stuck out your tongue and licked his fingers clean.

‘Really. I wanted to see what you taste like’ you winked and, just as you had sucked your combined juices from his fingers, he kissed you again passionately, tasting you and himself on your lips.

‘You are in for a long night’ he then warned you and you could see that he was already hardening again which certainly surprised you for a man in his mid-forties. He was clearly eager to make the most of this one-night stand and so were you.

With that, you both rolled out of bed and made your way into the shower for round two and then returned to the bed for round three.

Round four and five then took place in the morning and, after hours of passionate sex, a lack of sleep and Cillian cooking you some breakfast, it was time for you to leave.

‘Will I see you again?’ you asked as you were about to head out of the door. You hoped that he would be giving you his number after the amazing night you had shared but, unfortunately for you, he was true to his word.

This was nothing more than a one-night stand for him. He was not interested in dating again, nor was he ready to date anyone just yet. He told you this and that, in his opinion, you were far too young for him, though he did not even know your real age yet.

You accepted his position and kissed him once more before leaving his apartment, somewhat saddened by the fact that he did not want another date with you.

All you knew about him was his first name and the fact that he was incredible in bed. You knew that you would never see him again and, with this in mind, you soon returned to your old habits.

Over the next week, while pondering on about the handsome stranger you’ve met and shared a night with, you got back together with James. Much to the dislike of your friends, you were stuck in a cycle again and could not break it. James, once again, had a hold on you and after yet another argument with him, you made your way to Drama School on Monday with some bad temper and anger.

You enrolled into a new class and rocked up late and somewhat unprepared while your two friends were already waiting for you, in the hall next to the lecture room which is where you had to sign in.

‘Guess what?’ one of them said but you were too tired and depressed to take guesses. You were up all night again, in tears, as James was keeping taps on you and this was something you did not like.

‘I am not in the mood’ you thus said while looking through your schedule.

‘We have a new teacher for our practical work and he is fucking hot’ Lorraine said, while your other friend rolled her eyes.

‘He’s not that hot’ she said, sighing while looking at you. Clearly, you were not listening.

‘God, did you even watch Peaky Blinders?’ Lorraine then asked you both without getting an answer for you.

‘No, should I have watched it?’ your other friend then asked.

‘Yes. It is a brilliant show. He is brilliant. Hot and single’ Lorraine said like an eager little schoolgirl.

‘And old’ your other friend pointed out.

‘Y/N hooked up with a mid-forty-year-old guy a week ago and she said she had the best sex ever, so don’t knock it before you have tried it, isn’t that right Y/N?’ Lorraine teased but you did not respond. You had other things on your mind until, suddenly, you saw a familiar face in the distance, talking to the principal of the drama school.

‘Y/N?’ your friend then said, nudging your shoulder but all this did was make you drop your books. Your mouth stood open, gaping, as your eyes followed the principal and her companion.

‘Y/N! What’s wrong with you? Did you see a ghost?’ Lorraine laughed and you sure did.

‘Something like that’ you said while pointing to the principal and the handsome stranger by her side.

‘That’s Cillian Murphy. He is our new prac teacher’ Lorraine giggled and then you dropped your coffee too.

‘Fuck’ you said.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine

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magicshopaholic · 2 months

Text

Moving On (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: BTS performs in Amsterdam and Namjoon invites you to the afterparty.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 8.2K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, angst, sex, nudity, making out, fingering, cumming, arguing,

A/N: Takes place a little over a month after Final Destination.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "where does the good go" by tegan and sara

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

Joon [13:45] Did you get the email from Big Hit?

Kaya [13:50] Yes

Joon [13:51] The number at the end is their London office. They’ve been briefed already and have additional security available for all European locations.

Kaya [13:54] Okay

There’s a break in the chat here. Kaya stares at the time stamp, trying to picture him scrambling to find something else to say.

Joon [14:15] The company managed to track down the account that uploaded the video. Account has been taken down and they’ve sued for invasion of privacy.

Kaya [14:20] Okay

Joon [14:22] They’ve also offered to add damages to the suit, in case we want that. Do you?

Kaya [14:25] Not really

Joon [14:26] Okay then

Another break. Kaya scans the time stamps again, even though she’s memorised it by now. She remembers the three dots indicating him typing, seeing them appear and disappear over and over again.

Joon [14:40] How are you?

Kaya [14:45] Fine

Joon [14:46] How‘s work?

Kaya [14:48] Fine

Joon [14:50] Kaya I’m trying

Kaya [14:51] Class starting, got to go

He hadn’t responded and she hadn’t expected him to. Four days post break-up hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to let go of her anger but now, four weeks in, it’s only been replaced with an equal amount of sadness and longing.

Every conversation has been exactly this terse and abrupt, the last one being a week ago. It had appeared when she’d been teaching an elective class and it had taken every ounce of her will to not check it until the class ended. As it turned out, she couldn’t even think of a decent response to it.

“How can he possibly think of asking me this?” Kaya mutters, earphones in as she walks home. It’s dusk, a gorgeous time of the day, but she holds no appreciation for it right now.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if he didn’t ask?” Dilara asks reasonably. She’s in her car by the sound of it, a low hum audible of whichever fancy car of hers she’s decided to take out today.

Kaya swallows, pondering this. It might be, but it doesn’t address the problem she’s too embarrassed to voice out loud: it should be harder for him to ask. The thought that he might not be taking this break-up as hard as she is kills something inside of her, as if she’d misunderstood everything in the last three years.

Her strategy to save herself from hearing the truth had been to distance herself from everyone, including Yoongi, who had texted her out of the blue one day to ask her if she was okay (she hadn’t responded); Seokjin, who seemed to skirt the topic altogether and sounded as though he was speaking to someone very sick; and especially Dilara, who Kaya knew would be the only one with the capacity to ask insightful questions that she herself was too afraid to.

“It’s just… strange,” is all she can manage. “He hopped on a flight, shot a few emails, came over and broke up with me and then went right back to his schedule, all in one day. And now he's inviting me to a party?"

“After-party, so it won’t be, like… crazy,” Dilara clarifies. “And the concert before it.”

“I’m definitely not going to his concert.”

“Of course not,” she agrees breezily. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But the party… I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want you to be strangers.”

Kaya slows down as she approaches the river. She’s taken the long route home today - anything to prolong the commute before another night in her tainted apartment with memories on every surface.

“I don’t know if I want to see him.” I don’t know if I can. “He wants to see me, though, apparently,” she states after a moment.

Dilara doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I mean -“ She begins before pausing, then trying again. “I’m sure it’s going to be torture for him to see you. But even that’s better than not seeing you.”

Kaya doesn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath; she exhales as slowly as possible so as to not make a sound, both at Dilara’s words as well as her answering the unasked question.

She doesn’t respond immediately, though. Now that they’re down this route of addressing concerns she’s been harbouring in her heart for weeks, Kaya feels the rest of them on the verge of tumbling out of her mouth.

"You've seen him a bit these last couple of months,” she ventures, lowering her voice and leaning backwards against the railing overlooking the river. “Does it seem like he misses me at all?"

Dilara hums, a little too knowingly for Kaya’s liking. “Of course, he does. He’s not the most expressive when it comes to his feelings but aside from Tae last year, I don't think I've met a more miserable person."

Kaya waits for the swell of happiness or relief at this news, but all it brings with it is a new wave of anger and frustration.

“Thanks.”

"Look, speaking from experience, it's not easy seeing your ex after a difficult break-up,” says Dilara, sighing. “But sometimes you don't realise just how much you needed to see them until you see them, even if it's just to gain some closure."

Closure. It sounds… final. Kaya can’t picture it, being virtual strangers eventually, just bits of each other’s past. Ex-boyfriend, girl of his dreams, the one that got away. She hates all those words because they just don’t apply, not really. They can’t.

She closes her eyes and presses the heel of her palms into them to intercept the wetness forming, not caring that Dilara is still on the other end of the line. She and Namjoon had stood right here, years ago, living in the bliss of a new couple in fresh love. He’d brought her a bunch of tiny yellow flowers from the park, part-cheesy and part-genuine, eyes twinkling and dimples soft.

Kaya squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, terrified at how the edges of it are already blurring.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” she murmurs, opening her eyes to stare at the ground. “I can’t.”

“Are you sure?” Dilara sounds slightly surprised.

“Yeah. Two days from now is… it’s too soon. I’ll either cry or yell or… I don’t know. It’s too hard.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. If you’re sure. Let me know if you want to get together on Sunday,” she adds. “Brunch or something.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

—

The next day, Kaya is in the library again, grading papers and wishing she could go back to being a grad student who’s biggest problem was a pop quiz. She’s deliberately chosen a table at the back, away from where the students generally sit, which is why she looks up in surprise when someone comes to her table.

“H-hi, Kaya.” The student waves rests one hand on the back of an empty hair and waves hesitantly with the other.

“Um… hi.” Kaya tries not to frown too conspicuously, for she’s sure she knows this girl.

Svetlana. Savannah.

“Elena, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a nervous smile. “Um… are you busy?”

Kaya glances at the stacks of papers, books and laptop on the table. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Okay. Well… I just wanted to say hi.”

Kaya nods awkwardly and forces a small smile on her face. “Hi.”

Elena nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She looks like she’s about to leave but at the last moment, sits down at the table. Kaya feels her smile fade for she really, really wants to be alone right now.

“How - how are things going?” She sounds nervous - extremely so. She seems to be fidgeting slightly and constantly touching her hair.

“Great,” says Kaya shortly, going back to her paper and hoping she’ll take the hint. “You?”

“Not bad, overall. I guess. Classes are hard and mid-terms are coming up as well…” Elena trails off. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Trying not to sigh, Kaya shakes her head. “Not really. You?”

“Well… I’m going to a concert tomorrow,” she answers hurriedly, and it’s clear that she’s been waiting to divulge this information, oblivious to how Kaya’s heart stops. “It should be fun. Do - do you listen to BTS?”

An unexpected notification from this morning floats into her kind. BTS continues their Europe leg by arriving in Amsterdam, ready to kick off the summer in style!

“No,” she answers truthfully.

“Oh.” Elena is quiet for a moment. “They’re really… good.”

There’s some awkward silence during which Kaya deliberately writes comments on the paper she’s grading, scratching the pen on the paper and wishing Elena would leave.

“It’ll be good to get out of campus. The people here are kind of intimidating. The parties are pretty wild, too,” she murmurs after a moment, sounding uncomfortable.

Kaya nods absently, uncharacteristically satisfied with the knowledge that she might be intimidating this unwanted guest. “Maybe you’re going to the wrong parties,” she offers.

Elena lets out a nervous laugh again. “Maybe. I never see you at them, though. There’s one, tonight, in the common room. Maybe you could come,” she suggests lightly. “Bring a friend or - or your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers flatly, not looking up.

“You - oh.” There’s a note of surprise in her voice. “Oh,” she repeats, this time seemingly to herself. “Are you sure?” she blurts out.

Kaya’s eyes snap up to glare at her. “Pretty sure.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “Oh, of - of course,” she stutters. “Sorry, that - that was a stupid question. Sorry.” She swallows and looks at her lap.

Kaya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at an innocent bystander in this situation. “Elena, I… I really need to get these papers done,” she tells her, her voice one of forced calm. “So…”

The blonde finally seems to understand and awkwardly stands up. “Okay. Um, see you around,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again.

Kaya nods as she leaves, Namjoon’s invitation swimming in her mind tantalisingly. She can’t ignore it anymore, the fact that they’re in the same city, her city. If she’s not wrong, he’ll do the concert tomorrow night, the group will probably stay the night and depart by Sunday afternoon or evening and she will probably never see him again.

She attempts to continue grading the paper she was working on when Elena interrupted, but when she finds herself reading the same stupid sentence for the fourth time without retaining anything, she begins packing up, ready to head home.

—

Joon [18:42] Hope to see you there tonight

Kaya, with a loss as to how to respond to this, simply did not. She can’t imagine he would be texting her during his concert, but she also knows he has before, if the situation was urgent enough to demand it.

She straightens the black dress against her hips and tilts her head at her reflection. It’s a simple dress, plain black, form-fitting and reaching below her knees, but it’s quite possibly the most gorgeous, sexiest dress she owns.

If she and Namjoon were together, she would have worn it tonight with no hesitation because it would have driven him insane. After weeks of being apart, seeing her in this dress would have rendered him incapable of staying in work mode without dirty texts, flirty touches and eyes from across the room undressing her. Even now, with a bare face, her hair tied into a loose bun and no footwear, the dress is a game-changer.

She gives herself a few moments to imagine this paradise, one that might have come true tonight had she never told him about the break-in. Then, she silently unzips the dress and climbs out of the black fabric pooled around her feet. Tucking it back into her closet, she looks for something else.

Dilara [18:50] In case you change your mind, sharing the location here [Location]

Dilara’s text had come minutes after Namjoon’s, and Kaya has to imagine it was a genuine coincidence. Although she’d replied to neither, it was the second text that caused her to change her mind - that, and the lingering fear that if she didn’t go today, she didn’t know how either of them would be able to maneuver a situation to see each other again.

The concert should end in a little over an hour. Her phone pings again and she groans, for she doesn’t think she can take any more of their unsubtle attempts at convincing her to go tonight. It’s not Namjoon or Dilara, though, but Adam Fischer, her thirty-something thesis advisor, asking if she wants to discuss the coming week’s class schedule tonight.

Kaya shakes her head as she types out a reply (Sorry, I can’t tonight. Will set up a meeting for first thing Monday if that’s okay?), a little rueful. Namjoon heavily disliked Adam, despite having no concrete reason for doing so. He’d always suspected Adam of having feelings for her, even though Adam hadn’t said or done anything to make her think he might. Part of her wonders if she could somehow ditch the party for this meeting and still make sure that the news travelled to Namjoon through the grapevine (Dilara), and if that would still piss him off even now.

She immediately cringes at the pettiness of it, however, sending her reply to Adam and heading into the shower.

The party is at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel next to the concert venue, and presumably where BTS is staying while in Amsterdam. It isn’t as crowded as she was anticipating, although the music is fairly loud. It looks more like a fancy houseparty, and even a few seconds in, Kaya can spot a handful of vaguely famous people in attendance. She looks around for a familiar face, preferably Dilara or Yoongi or one of the younger boys, wishing she’d called ahead and trying not to think about the fact that in spite of not RSVP-ing, her name was on the guest list.

She takes another hesitant step in and audibly sighs when she spots Taehyung, who, for reasons best known to himself, has accessorised his outfit with an ascot. He seems to be in an animated conversation with Jungkook, while standing in between them and facing ahead, with loose curls tumbling down her shoulders and looking slightly bored, is…

“Kaya!”

Dilara’s mouth forms her name over the music as she brushes past her boyfriend and his friend and hurries towards Kaya, looking both happy and relieved to see her. “You look hot!” she exclaims when she reaches her.

“Oh -” Kaya looks down self-consciously; she’d settled for a straight strapless top and jeans, unable to justify dressing sexier without seeming like she was trying too hard for her ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. And you look…” She frowns slightly at Dilara’s mini-dress and go-go boots, with a slightly out-of-place gold ring hanging around her neck. “... like Daphne Blake.”

Dilara’s face visibly falls. “I look like a cartoon character?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, a very pretty cartoon character,” she adds quickly. “Especially with the headband. But… why?”

She rolls her eyes. “Taehyung picked it - but I’m sure it’s not because of Daphne Blake.” Spotting Kaya’s confused expression, she shrugs sheepishly. “We got into an argument yesterday about who has better taste, so we decided to go shopping at The Nine Streets and pick each other’s outfits for tonight.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, something seemingly clicking into place. “So the ascot is your doing?”

“M-hm.” She nods in satisfaction before her eyes widen. “Oh, hey! An ascot - like Fred!” She lets out a low whistle at this realisation and laughs, while Kaya nods knowingly, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Not planned but zero regrets. I wonder if Tae knows that - oh.”

Kaya cuts her off mid-sentence with a hug, suddenly immensely grateful for Dilara. She can’t remember the last time she’d let anyone into her life this much with the exception of Namjoon; but just maybe, when she’d been happy with him and her guard had been lowered, Dilara had slipped in without warning as well.

She tightens her arms around Kaya and rubs her back. “It’s good to see you, too,” she says, sounding part-surprised and part-delighted. “It’s been a while but I promise that we will still - oh, hey.” The change in tone is abrupt. “Incoming.”

By the way her voice immediately lowers, Kaya is sure she knows what Dilara is referring to. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she pulls away from the hug and turns as casually as she can.

Her first thought is that he looks thinner - visibly so. Well, he’s on tour, says a voice in her head but Kaya suspects that’s not the only reason, for he’d been on tour when he’d broken up with her as well.

His hair is a silvery blond, looking almost metallic; dressed simply in a black T-shirt and jeans, he runs a hand through his hair so it falls gracefully around his face as he approaches her, his face unreadable.

“Hi,” he says, and it sounds like all the breath has been let out of him with just one word. He swallows and straightens his shoulders, a small smile appearing on his face, the dimple faintly visible. “It’s good to see you, Kaya.”

Kaya nods, unable to speak and overcome with a sudden urge to cry. “You, too,” she murmurs, glancing at the floor and blinking rapidly before looking back up at him, a bit defiantly.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

She nods again, her chest twisting at how normal he sounds. He’s standing far away from her as well, as though to make it clear in every way possible that they’re not together.

“Hope you had a good concert,” she ventures, recalling the grad student who’d accosted her yesterday, practically beside herself at attending a BTS concert. “Backstage must have been hectic.”

A flicker of something appears in his eyes for a moment, possibly with memories of backstage. Wishes of luck, last minute hugs, sweaty and passionate kisses fueled by adrenaline. But it disappears instantly and Kaya wonders if she imagined it.

“It was,” he answers, nodding. He slides his hands into his pockets smoothly, leaning back on his heels and his smile widening a little. “But worth it as always. The crew did well.”

Kaya doesn’t even bother nodding this time; all of a sudden, she regrets coming here tonight. Dilara has left, she just realises, and Namjoon is acting like they’re acquaintances at best, making her feel stupid and yet immensely grateful that she didn’t wear the sexy black dress.

At that moment, his eyes flicker to something behind her. “I’m sorry, I just need to go and say hi to a couple of people. But enjoy your night. It’s an open bar,” he adds, smiling and nodding politely before brushing past her and walking away.

Kaya doesn’t move; she doesn’t think she can. Something heavy feels like it’s settled on her chest, the weight of confusion, disbelief and crushing disappointment threatening to suffocate her. She has no idea what she’d been expecting; maybe arguing, fighting, crying together again - but not him not caring. Not this.

Namjoon continues walking in the opposite direction for as long as he can keep Kaya in his peripheral vision, both guilty and relieved when she doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look her in the eye if she does, witness the pain and hurt in her face that close.

He catches Seokjin’s eye and hurries over to him. Seokjin raises his eyebrows and seems to guess what might have transpired, ushering him over to the other end of the circular bar and out of Kaya’s line of sight.

“How did it go?”

Namjoon rests his palms on the bar and shakes his head, no words coming to him at the moment and feeling like he could throw up. He can’t fathom how he did it, how he stood there before her and didn’t immediately pull her to him, or break down and ask her to forgive him for doing the only thing he knew to do.

“Drink this.” Seokjin slides a glass to him and Namjoon takes it without hesitation, taking a huge gulp and waiting for it to sting his sinuses.

“This is water,” he states hoarsely, frowning at the glass.

“Cold water,” corrects Seokjin. “It’ll help clear your head.”

Namjoon takes another sip and places the glass down, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t do this. How do I tell her I can’t do this? How do I ask her to -“ But he breaks off here, his mind swimming with the sight of her bare shoulders and exposed collarbones, imagining how they would feel if he held her.

“Okay.” Seokjin exhales through his nose and pauses. “Look, I have to ask. You’ve seen the state she is in. And you’re…” He struggles for a moment “...like this. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to ask her to get back -“

“No.” The answer is instant, although it’s partly a habit by now. As he does every time his mind tries to convince him otherwise, Namjoon forces the memory of her phone call to the forefront of his mind, the fear in her voice and devastation on her face when he’d entered her apartment.

“But maybe this is -“

“No.”

Seokjin is silent and Namjoon can tell that he doesn’t approve. Please don’t ask me again, hyung. He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by inviting her but he couldn’t imagine not doing it either, not being right here in her city, knowing she was so close that he could almost smell the coconut and vanilla in the air and still not see her in the flesh.

“If you’re sure,” says Seokjin at last. “If you are, then I guess you did well. Just… just be normal around her. Keep a normal distance, talk about normal things and…” He half-shrugs, sounding uncertain. “She’s smart. She’ll understand. If you’re sure you want to do this, then… she’ll get it.”

Normal. Namjoon knows what he means, but he wants to tell him that none of this is normal. Not touching her, not being honest with her, not being with her - none of it is normal.

“She’s talking to Yoongi right now,” he adds, and Namjoon turns to see them near the stairs to the top floor. Kaya’s back is to him, her head lowered slightly and her thumbs hooked onto the back pockets of her jeans, the material hugging her hips and curving down her backside… He swallows and looks away.

“This is your chance,” says Seokjin. “Go and mingle. Let her see you moving on - even if you actually aren’t,” he clarifies quickly. “It won’t be pleasant but it might encourage her to do the same.”

Namjoon isn’t sure of the wisdom of this strategy but ever since the cause of his break-up had been revealed to the older members (and surely to Taehyung at least, by Dilara), he’d almost been relieved that he wouldn’t have to make every decision on his own.

He tries his best to navigate the party after that, making empty conversation with guests, using every bit of remaining energy and willpower to plaster a smile on his face. All the while, part of his attention is constantly on Kaya, registering her familiar figure alone at the bar as she nurses a beer, sometimes with Dilara.

Be normal. Seokjin’s words start holding less and less meaning with every passing minute, especially when he spots Kaya having finished her drink and he’s struck with the sudden fear that she will leave the party. In an effort to be as normal as he can, Namjoon heads over to the bar where she’s scanning the life-size menu half-heartedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Like anything?” he asks humbly. Long Island Iced Tea or a Mai Tai - depends on the flavours. His heart jolts when she shoots him a doubtful look and doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s wary of talking to him. She leans over the bar and gives the bartender a smile that makes his heart drop, especially when he grins back.

“Komt de mai tai in mango?” she asks, half-pouting when he shakes his head. “Een biertje, alsjeblieft,” she says finally, taking her second beer and turning away from the bar.

Namjoon doesn’t remember ever feeling this distant from her. “I’m glad you came tonight,” he tries again, choosing to look at her even though she’s facing away.

Kaya nods, pursing her lips and looking ahead. “Yeah, you said that already.” But her voice trembles ever so slightly, or maybe he just knows her so well that he’s sure it’s not a case of her not wanting to look at him - she can’t look at him.

It’s all on him now. He started this; if there is any hope of them still staying in each other’s lives, it’s down to him to make it happen.

“How’s your dissertation going?” he asks, hoping her work is a topic she might open up on.

She shrugs after a moment. “Off schedule,” she answers shortly. “A lot of variables hanging in the air.”

“Did you get into the research project you’d applied for?”

It’s momentary but it appears: the corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Yeah,” she admits, finally looking at him, albeit hesitantly. “Guess I’ll have a lot more time to focus on it now,” she murmurs, the hint of a smile fading.

Namjoon’s heart sinks. She’s so angry with him; it’s palpable and not something he has ever been on the receiving end of. Her hand hangs by her side; his own itches to link his fingers with his, maybe tug her to him or lead her out of this stupid party where he can plead for her to just look at him.

“Well,” he says, then pauses. “I’m glad you could get the time off tonight. Must have been hard.”

“M-hm, not really.” She shakes her head. “Adam wanted to meet but I’ll probably catch up with him later,” she adds nonchalantly.

Namjoon nods, his hand tightening around his glass. He can’t tell if she’s trying to provoke him, for they do work closely; close enough that Adam’s intentions have always been a point of disagreement for them. He’d never been able to explain to her just how much he hated the way her advisor looked at her when she didn’t notice, how his hugs always lingered a moment too long or how he insisted on calling her late in the evenings to discuss work.

He’s distracted momentarily by Jungkook, who approaches them while bopping effortlessly to the music and stops in between them, turning to face in the same direction as Namjoon and Kaya. He’s definitely tipsy; the smile on his face is too big and he doesn’t seem to be reading the room at all.

“Dilara is a really good dancer, isn’t she?” he says loudly in English to no one in particular. Namjoon frowns and follows his gaze to see Dilara, Taehyung and Hoseok dancing, before turning back to look at Jungkook. On his other side, Kaya is also frowning at him, tilting her head curiously. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows slightly.

Namjoon fights a smile as Kaya half-chuckles and looks away, his heart twisting with longing at how much he misses her. She looks so incredibly beautiful; his eyes sting when he realises that there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“I’m gonna -“ He gestures vaguely and walks away in the opposite direction, desperate to be anywhere but around her before his resolve breaks.

The next half hour is a flurry of faces; Namjoon distracts himself with every single individual at the party, making small talk and exchanging unfunny jokes and hyper aware of Kaya occasionally glancing at him.

He knows, because he’s watching her, too, doing his best to make sure she doesn’t see him looking. He can’t even help it; it’s almost muscle memory at this point.

“Who are you looking at?” The woman he’s talking to asks him point-blank.

Namjoon flushes, realising he’d been staring at Kaya over her shoulder while she’d been speaking.

“No one,” he answers quickly. “Sorry.”

The twenty-something woman frowns curiously. “Are you sure? I’m not offended.”

“It’s… nothing.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor.

“Ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. Not trusting himself to speak, Namjoon nods.

“Hm.” She hums, somewhat sympathetically. “Bad break-up?”

“Pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “It’s never easy to be around an ex if it hasn’t ended well.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, desperate to change the topic. “All part of the process, right?”

“Right,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, once you’re past this phase, the one where you constantly want to die, you can begin the drink and eat and hook up as much as you want stage with no judgement.”

He chuckles politely, the prospect sounding horrendous. “Thanks. Feels good to laugh for real.”

She smiles wider and, before he knows it, leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.

It takes Namjoon a couple of seconds of pure shock before he jumps backwards. “Whoa. What -“ His heart races uncomfortably. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” she says slowly, looking a little confused. “I thought… you wanted to make your ex jealous. Isn’t that where you were going with this?”

“No,” he clarifies immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to - no.” In the midst of his minor crisis, he notes how the woman looks almost mortified.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He looks up out of habit and sees, unmistakably, Kaya leaving the restaurant, her long dark hair and the shimmery dark blue of her top disappearing out the door.

—

The night has gotten chillier in the last couple of hours and the cool wind hits her bare shoulders the moment she steps out, but Kaya barely feels it. She’s not thinking right now; thinking is what’s got them here, thinking about everything and overthinking to the point of fleeing a restaurant.

“Kaya!”

Her feet increase their pace automatically the same time her stomach flips, but he’s taller and faster and he reaches her before she can even reach the elevator.

“Kaya,” he repeats hurriedly, reaching and grabbing her elbow. “Wait, please. I’m sorry -”

“Why did you even invite me here?” she asks, cutting him off and turning around to face him. She’s so tired; she didn’t think break-ups could be this exhausting. “You’ve barely said anything to me. Was it to show me in person how you’re moving on? Because if that’s the case, then… message received.”

Namjoon shakes his head immediately; he looks exhausted as well, and Kaya is once again struck by how much thinner he is, overcome with a mixture of empathy and frustration at him.

“That was not - I didn’t plan that,” he says, sighing. “I don’t even know who she is. She kissed me and it wasn’t… come on, does it look like I’m moving on?” he asks, raising his arms helplessly.

Kaya stares at him and then sighs, shaking her head. “Why did you invite me here?” she asks again, less defensive this time.

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says at once.

She stares at him. “Well, you’ve seen me,” she says, sniffing. “Can I go now?”

“Kaya…”

“What?”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for words. “Please don’t -“ He breaks off abruptly before taking a step closer to her, his height both large and comforting. “I don’t want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”

Too late. “You’re not supposed to care how I feel. Not anymore.”

He lets out a humourless chuckle. “What?”

“We’re over.” She can hear the tremble in her voice as she crosses her arms across her chest again. “You said it yourself. You’re not supposed to care how I feel.”

“Really?” He narrows his eyes at her. “You think this break-up had anything to do with how I feel about you? You know as I do that it didn’t.” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “I did this because I care.”

“If you say so.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me or something?”

“Provoke you into what?” she blurts out. “What - what is that you want, exactly? What do you want us to do? Just circle around in each other’s orbits for the rest of our lives, while still being - while still feeling the way we do?” she asks, avoiding her almost-slip of tongue. “We’re just supposed to stay not be together and still stay in each other’s lives? What - what do you want?”

Namjoon opens his mouth but falls silent; it’s clear he hasn’t thought that far ahead - or he can’t say it out loud. “I want…” He begins, before pausing and starting again. “I want… you to be happy,” he says eventually. “And safe.”

She scoffs and he bristles.

“I’m serious. I -” He breaks off when someone exits the restaurant, his gaze following them until they’re out of sight before he turns back to her. “This is hard for me, too, you know? Why is it so hard for you to believe I might want you to be happy?”

Kaya exhales but doesn’t answer, because it isn’t hard to believe, not even a little bit. It’s unfortunately the most believable thing he’s ever said to her which means she can’t even fight it.

“How?” she asks finally. “By moving on, like you were pretending to do?”

Namjoon bites his lip and his eyes glaze over, and she knows he’s picturing it. His eyes fall to the floor but he nods slowly anyway. “Yeah, I guess. As long as I don’t have to watch it,” he adds in a mutter.

It’s really over. Kaya feels her eyes well up. “Fine,” she answers quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone to move on with tonight.” She turns to leave but feels him stop her again. “What?” she snarls.

“Kaya, I -” The lift opens and a handful of people tumble out, holding merchandise and talking loudly. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs her arms and walks her back into a corner, just as the group turns into their corridor and towards the restaurant.

“What are you -”

But the second lift opens just then and they hear the sound of a second group of voices. Namjoon swears under his breath and pushes open a door behind her, walking her back further into the tiny dark room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

“What is wrong with -“

“It’s press,” he hisses, and she falls silent.

He peers out into the corridor through the small window in the door; there’s no light except for the bit through the window and from a skylight in the ceiling. Kaya can smell something vaguely citric that she decides is floor cleaner; they are in a janitor’s closet.

She and Namjoon are frozen in place, his hands still on her arms and hers on his torso to keep from losing her balance. It’s been a long time since they’ve been this close; it takes Kaya a few seconds to realise that the voices outside have disappeared, but he still hasn’t moved away.

Almost as if he’s subconsciously heard her, his thumbs stroke her arm once. The simple touch makes all the anger crumble away for a moment, especially now that it’s just them with the rest of the world shut outside. Kaya hesitates for a moment, then gently rests her forehead on his shoulder. Namjoon stiffens but a moment later, she feels his fingers tighten above her elbows, followed by him loosely enveloping her in his arms.

It seems cruel, almost, that the target of her anger and source of her comfort lie in the same person. It isn’t even a hug; it’s a moment of weakness at best, borne from his almost subconscious need to protect her. For the first time, Kaya wonders if she’s being unfair to him.

Resisting the temptation to wrap her arms around his waist, she steps away from him with difficulty, her back touching the wall. His arms fall from around her reluctantly, his expression resigned. It’s dark but she can see him more clearly than she has all night.

“This is a terrible idea,” she murmurs, echoing her words from a month ago. “The worst you’ve ever had.”

Namjoon exhales shakily but doesn’t argue. “I meant everything I said in that note,” he says, not even trying to hide the tremble in his voice anymore. “And I really do want you to be happy.”

The note. The one he’d kept on her bedside table when he’d left her apartment while she slept, the only thing of his that was left when she’d awoken, naked and alone. She’d only had the strength to read it once before she’d broken down and tucked it deep into her drawer, knowing the words would be etched in her memory.

“You know what will make me happy,” she whispers, looking at the ground. She feels him come closer to her, one hand hovering by her side as though unable to decide if she’d want her to touch him.

He finally rests it lightly on her waist, moving it slightly upward as she looks up at him, her heart twisting at how he’s unable to meet her eyes. She places her hands on his face, thinking vaguely how much she misses seeing his dimple.

“Joon,” she whispers, waiting for him to nod once. “Look at me.”

Namjoon visibly swallows, gaze still fallen. “Kaya, I…”

“No,” she interrupts him. “Look at me.”

With what seems like an enormous effort, he meets her eyes. This is hard for me too, you know?

She knows. Kaya strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs, her touch feather-light. “Kiss me,” she whispers. She touches her forehead to his and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll give in, for she can’t go further than this.

His hand tightens around her waist, pressing her into the wall. Their lips brush momentarily and he shivers.

“Do it,” she urges, her voice barely audible now. “Kiss me.”

She feels his lips before she even registers him moving against her and she leans into it, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. Come back to me, she thinks desperately. Come back to where you belong.

It’s like he can hear her. Namjoon pulls away, one hand on the wall beside her face for support, the other holding her.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and it sends a jolt of anticipation through her heart. “I love you, Kaya,” he adds, voice full of emotion. Kaya nods, unable to speak, wishing he would meet her eyes. He moves his hands to her face and touches his forehead to hers again, swallowing.

Look at me.

But he doesn’t. “But you have no idea,” he continues, every word sounding like it's costing him effort, “how I felt when you called me that night. The things that went through my mind…” He sniffs, and Kaya’s heart sinks. “I can’t let that happen again baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

She can feel her face start to contort and she drops her hands from his shoulders, for she knows this part by heart. “Goodbye, Namjoon,” she mutters thickly, sliding out from between him and the wall. She pushes open the door and hurries out, leaving him behind.

—

When she hears the knock on her front door the next morning, Kaya is just about to step into the shower. She freezes and sighs, for she really, really needs this shower. She considers ignoring it but the knock sounds again and she groans, abandoning the activity of tying up her hair and letting it fall loose instead.

Grabbing the old, threadbare robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she pulls it around herself and shuffles to the front door. She peers through the peephole and her heart stops for a moment, but she steels herself and opens the door.

Namjoon stands before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. “Hey. I just wanted to - oh, God,” he switches abruptly, his expression changing from vaguely apologetic to shocked, and he slips inside the apartment.

“What?” Kaya asks, taken off guard and stumbling backwards.

“You really opened the door wearing that?” he hisses, shutting the door behind him. “I could’ve been anyone!”

“I knew it was you,” she argues, tightening the belt around her waist and realising, for the first time, how short the robe is. But she isn’t about to admit that to him, especially not when he’s turned up unannounced and decided to begin his visit by berating her. She folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

He hesitates, almost as though he’s just noticing how displeased she is. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking a bit ashamed. “I didn’t mean to… anyway,” he says quickly, wringing his hands and slipping them back in his pockets. “How are you?”

Kaya shrugs suspiciously. He looks remarkably different from where she’d left him last night, almost breaking down and apologising to her. Right now, he seems almost… calm. She can almost imagine that last night had been a slip-up of emotion, possibly due to tiredness and an open bar, whereas in the light of day, he’s back to being the responsible ex who’s fulfilling his obligations by checking up on her each day.

“I’m great.”

He nods after a moment, clearly not believing her. “Well, I came here because…” He sighs and a glimmer of last night’s emotion appears on his face. “I thought about what you said last night. And you were right.”

The jolt in her stomach is almost painful, but Kaya hangs on. If he was talking about what she thinks he is, he would be delivering it far more differently.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t expect you to keep doing this,” he adds. “Staying in this limbo, not knowing…” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, removing his hands from his pockets. “You have every right to move on. I want you to - to be happy.”

Kaya licks her lips slowly. “This,” she says coldly, “could’ve been a text.”

“I didn’t want to leave things the way they were last night,” he tells her, his voice softer. “You’re, uh…” His voice breaks off for a moment. “You’re the love of my life. And we were together for a long time and I… I loved every moment of it. I just want to say goodbye the right way.”

Her throat hurts holding back the rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her.

“Are you sure?” She can’t resist asking, in a whisper. When he nods and lowers his eyes, she feels the heavy, heavy anchor of acceptance settle in her stomach.

Namjoon hesitantly reaches out with one hand but when she gives him a look, he nods and steps forward, and they meet in their last hug, three and a half years after their first last hug in her apartment.

Kaya hugs him tight, no longer caring about hiding how she feels. There isn’t enough time to try and memorise everything so she doesn’t even try; she just goes higher on her toes and presses her nose into his shoulder, revelling in his scent one last time.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be doing much better. He’s holding her tight, so tight that it doesn’t seem like he’s ever intending on letting her go. His face is in her hair and his arms stroke her back in small movements, his go-to movement to comfort her since they met.

Just a few more seconds. The sensations increase now; the feel of his shoulders, his chest touching hers - and she’s suddenly conscious of the thin robe being the only thing separating her naked body from him.

At the same time, his hands move to her waist - out of habit, she knows, but she can’t help but be extremely aware of it. His hand stops just above the curve of her hips, quickly and abruptly.

Her mouth feels dry, but her legs press together. Then, as though he can read her mind and the direction her thoughts are invariably leading in, against her hip, she can feel his body react.

She lets out a soft gasp and feels his body stiffen around her. This is goodbye, a voice reminds her, urging her brain to focus on the matter at hand. But it’s slipping - fading, almost, as a physical urge struggles for dominance.

Her lips brush his neck as she pulls away - she has to pull away - but it doesn’t matter in the end because somewhere along the way his lips find hers and all thought disappears, replaced by touch, feel and hunger.

Namjoon sighs into her mouth like he’s breathing for the first time, pulling her close. Her robe starts to loosen and he tugs at the belt, groaning when his hands touch her bare skin.

“Fuck, are you really not wearing anything under this?” he murmurs, his voice so low and reverberating so deep inside her that she shivers.

The robe is off; it’s cool and sudden air, a moment where his hands fall from her waist and then their back but this time, it’s skin against skin. It’s lips and sighs and tight grips, the feel of denim, her fingers moving out of habit as they unbutton and unzip - and then there’s pride and relief when she feels his desire for her, still the same as ever, no matter his words.

There’s something solid against her back; somewhere, dimly, her mind registers that her dining table is rickety and has her laptop on it, and then she’s leaning forward and he’s behind her and his chest is against her back and he wants her just as much as he wants him.

“Are you -“

“I’m still on birth control,” she confirms tightly, the next moment feeling his fingers on her hips and then he’s inside her again, after so long. She could almost sob at how good it feels, how right, the lips on her shoulder and his scent and touch.

But it’s over too soon. She gasps and falls forward, her ears ringing and heart hurting at the same time as her heart races. He’s getting close, too; she tries to memorise it now, the exact moment, but then he pulls out. It’s sudden, the emptiness, but the next moment, she feels wetness on her back.

It takes around ten seconds, ten seconds when she’s frozen before she finally hears him sigh and take a step away. A moment later, she reaches across the table and pulls the tissue box towards her, reaching behind and wiping her back.

Kaya turns slightly to see him pulling on his T-shirt, jeans buttoned already. She picks up her robe and pulls it on hurriedly, suddenly not wanting to be naked for even another microsecond in front of him.

Something feels wrong. It’s not the first time he’s finished on her; he’s done it before, on explicit request and without, none of which ever made her feel… like this. Self-conscious. Bare.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I -“ He meets her eyes, still panting slightly. “I still want to… do this right,” he says, sounding almost formal. “Goodbye, Kaya.”

He starts to take a step forward but pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t hug,” he murmurs, offering her a small smile. Kaya watches as he hesitantly offers her a hand.

This is goodbye. Kaya can’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable around him. The momentary loss of her sense of reason feels like it’s returned in full form, and she tightens the robe around her. She starts to reach for his hand but then stops.

“This is what you meant?” she asks quietly. “When you said you wanted to do it the right way? You wanted to see if you could squeeze in one last fuck before you closed this out like a business meeting?”

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No! I didn’t - I didn’t want that to happen! I mean - you know that’s not what I meant,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t plan this. You and I both -“

“You planned our break-up and I had no idea,” she cuts him off, the shame and embarrassment creeping up her throat. “I really don’t know anymore.”

He scoffs, but his eyes flicker like he’s been stung. “Is that what you think of me? We were both here, Kaya. It wasn’t just me - you wanted this just as much as I -“

“I slept with Adam.”

Namjoon freezes. He swallows and his eyes flicker again, rapidly this time. “You’re lying,” he whispers.

Kaya shrugs, holding his gaze with every last bit of willpower in her. “You were the one who told me to move on last night,” she reminds him, watching his expression crumble and doing nothing to stop it.

After what feels like several minutes, or maybe even hours, Namjoon nods slowly. Then, without another word, he turns around and opens the door, walking out of her life and shutting the door behind him.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts rm fanfic #bts rm angst #bts rm smut

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hrts4scarr · 5 days

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ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙this lowkey reminds me of a 2018 wattpad story but fuck it we ball﹚

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IT WASN'T SURPRISING for a young, intelligent woman like you to get your dream job in motorsport, especially as the not very known sister of the much loved driver at rbr, sebastian vettel. start of the season, first day, no sweat. couldn't be much harder than what you've been studying for all your years at uni. you just started working for your brothers team, red bull racing. you could not wait. not only did you get to work at the job you've been dreaming of since you were a little kid, but you got to work along side your older brother, who you loved dearly.

even though you were attempted to be knocked down down by some stupid boys when you were younger, it never stopped you from watching f1 races, studying how they built their cars, or researching about your favourite motorsport. you were determined, stubborn and hardworking. the perfect traits for someone to pursue their dream job. with your supportive brother and family by your side, you were thankful that you finally have made it this far.

as the studious young lady you were, it also wasn't surprising that you were shuffling through your folder containing multiple notes, making sure you didn't forget anything. paying too much attention to what you were doing - rather than where you were going, you bumped into a hard wall.

no, wait. not a wall, but rather a fairly tall man in his early 30s. your folder falls to the floor, the pencil tucked behind your ear doing its best to stay put. squatting down to pick up the fallen folder, you mumbled rapidly. "shoot, sorry, that was completely my fault, i wasn't paying attention to where i wa-"

"relax, darling," you heard a chuckle, the british accent sounding familiar in your ears. "you seem to be stressing yourself out." as you stood up, you were faced with the one and only 2009 wdc winner. "..i- sorry." you whispered softly, embarressed as you stared at your shoes.

"it's alright, love. it was an accident." he grinned, leaning over slightly to see your face. "i haven't seen you around here, are you-"

"there you are!!" your older brother, jogs up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you seemed to forget all about your little accident as you crack into a smile. "c'mon now, you're going to be late." you giggle as seb drags you along with him.

jenson watched as you and sebastian went over to the red bull garage. his eyes followed your perfect posture, up to how your clothes were neat and unwrinkled, finally stopping and lingering on your face. 'friends' with the 2010 champion, hmm? he watched as you entered the garage. he couldn't wait to meet you again.

〜

"hello there, love." from the corner of your eye, you could see a shadow leaning on the doorframe. that same british accent from the day before, that same faint cologne, that same little smirk that seemed to get on your nerves in the weirdest - but not bad - way.

"mr. button." you nod as you wrote notes that you learnt the day before on your tablet.

"please, it's just jenson." jenson sat next to you, leaning over your shoulder to see what you were writing. he did it like personal space wasn't a thing. "i didn't get your name." he turned your head to face you, a small grin on his face.

"it's y/n." you say, not facing him.

"i take it you know sebastian? y'know, from yesterday." he asks, attempting to start a conversation.

"he's my brother." you press 'save' on your tablet, finally closing it and meeting jenson's eyes for the first time. your gaze lingered for a quick second, taking in his features, observing his demeanour.

jenson paused. "brother? i didn't know he had any siblings." jenson says curiously.

"you don't seem to know a lot of things." you say jokingly, giving him a tiny grin. the man couldn't help but chuckle.

"y/n vettel? such a pretty name for a pretty woman." he winks, thinking his usual playboy charm would work on you just like the other girls.

you can't help but roll your eyes playfully as you packed your things. "see you around, button."

〜

you reached into your handbag to pay for your ice cream. the cashier shook her head, gesturing to a man sitting by the window. "he already paid." you furrow your eyebrows. "oh, alright. thank you." you give the cashier a small smile before turning to where she was gesturing to.

jenson damn button. you could already feel his gaze on you and that lingering scent on him as you sat in front of the driver.

"there's really no need to pay for me, mr. button."

"and there's really no need to call me 'mr. button,' love." jenson chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee.

you sigh. you couldn't be stubborn with him, knowing how hard headed he was from all your years of watching f4 to f1.

"this is a nice little shop, don't you think? perfect place to hangout before the australian gp." jenson leans forward, that same smirk on his face.

"mmm, yeah. they have delicous ice cream." you take a bite of yours, not being able to help but feel guilty for not paying for your ice cream.

"what's your favourite flavour?" jenson asks, trying to fuel the conversation.

"chocolate. basic but the best." you say softly with icecream covered lips.

"that's fair." he chuckles. "i'm a vanilla kind of guy."

from there, your conversation grew longer. you both opened up more, sharing small laughs and recalling past memories. it felt like only minutes to you both, but little did you know it was nearly dinner.

"would you look at that, it's nearly 6pm." you check your phone.

"well, before i say goodbye, do you think i could have the pleasure of taking you out for dinner this thursday?" jenson grins.

"nice try, button, but im busy all week. try again next time, and we'll see." chuckling, you pack up your things. "later!" you leave the icecream shop as jenson's eyes follow.

"later." he mumbles. this felt different. different in a way he's never felt like this before. different in a way that you were different. different in a way he was really falling for someone. different or stupid, his stomach twisted with mixed feelings. different.

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i genuinely don't know when im gonna have more parts to this 😔﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

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doudouneverte · 6 months

Text

Gold-friend

a/n: I wanted to write something for the new Ballon d'Or winner

*not my GIF* (look at this tiny queen)

Pairing: Aitana Bonmatí x Fem!Reader

Summary: surprise

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

word count: 1881

-------

Euro 2022

The Spain national team got kicked out of the competition by the Lionesses. Back in Spain, Aitana found peace with the only person she could call home, you.

For you, you spent the rest of the summer trying to cheer her up and helping her prepare for the next season.

Even if she said it every day, the midfielder would never voice too much how grateful she was that you were with her in every big step of her career.

Season 22-23

Being a nurse and working almost every day meant that you sometimes couldn't be there for your girlfriend when she played. But working with nosy co-workers helped you measure how much the blaugranas' midfielder started to shine.

To be fair, you didn't mean it, but when you walked up to two people talking about football, you wanted to tell them to go back to work until they mentioned Aitana's name.

They were talking about her big performance on the pitch and her awesome season. And what a season it was. Leading the Liga F alone, far away from the runner-up, confirmed that Barcelona was in good spirits, and things were even more incredible when you saw them in the Champions League.

Of course, even if you had to work a lot, you tried to see her play as much as you could.

Champions League Final

Back from a party to celebrate their championship title, Aitana crashed on the couch next to you. A movie was running on the TV, but the football player knew she had all your attention. She rested her head on your lap and enjoyed the silence for a moment until something came to her mind.

"¿Amor?(My love)" She called you carefully.

"¿Si?" You replied and started to play with her hair.

"Are you free in June?" She asked without really hoping for a positive reply.

"Umm, I have to check, but I think I asked to have two days off. Why?"

"Do you want to do something special to celebrate our first place?"

"Uh, yeah, but I was more hoping to use those days to see you play the Champions League's final. But we can do anything you want."

"Well, I wanted to ask you if you—wait, what?" She brutally stood up, almost hitting you in the process.

"What?"

"What did you say?"

You looked at her like she grew a second head. "Uh, I said that I wanted to see you play. Is that a problem?"

The midfielder grinned and covered your face with a lot of kisses.

"You're welcome." You joked.

"Now, come on, we both need to sleep." She turned off the TV and dragged you to the bedroom.

~~~~~

After the finale whistle, Barcelona were sacred champions. You were frenetically moving in your seat while the girls were celebrating. A few minutes later, you were allowed on the pitch; you only had some free seconds to thank the girls before a short body crashed against yours.

"Oh, calmate, cariñosa, let me thank other girls before." You were very amused by her antics.

"I'm really happy that you came." She confessed while all her teammates were making fun of her.

"I'm really happy too."

After a lot of celebration, you were back in the blaugranas' hotel, cuddling with your girlfriend in her room. "Are you sure you can't come to Australia?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. But don't worry, I'll support you." You reassured her.

Word Cup

You had to follow the whole competition during your night shift because of the different time zones. But that was not the worst part. The worst part was everything that happened on the other side of the globe without you being there to support her.

You were working the day of the finale, and almost all the hospital exploded with joy after the final whistle. Everybody matched your enjoyment, and it was totally understandable.

Ballon d'Or

Aitana was on her way to her hotel, but something was stuck in her mind.

"Don't make this grumpy face; you're about to be classified as one of the best players in the world." Salma said trying to change her mind.

"I'm not making a grumpy face."

"Yes, you are. You have since we arrived here. What's the problem? Aren't you excited?"

"Of course I am."

"But?"

"There's no but."

"So you don't look happy when you clearly deserve everything that's happened today?"

"I'm happy; it's just that..." She stopped when the car stopped, and thankfully for her, Patri and Mapi were already there to welcome them.

"Thanks, some people are excited about this day." Salma said dramatically when she get out of the car.

Her teammates gave her a strange look, but they didn't need to question it when they saw Aitana.

"She's definitely taking it more well than I imagined." Patri whispered to the defender, who looked at her very confusedly. "I thought she would be crying and complaining about how much she wanted Y/n to be there." She explained.

"You know what? I'll not even try to talk with you. Let's just try to make her look less grumpy until the ceremony." The defender said.

"I'm not grumpy!" The midfielder spoke loudly while she entered the hotel.

"Yep, definitely grumpy." The three other players said together.

Okay, to be honest, Aitana may have been grumpy, but only because she was worried. You were supposed to be with her this night, but you didn't answer her last text. And she sent it a few hours ago.

In the room where she was supposed to get ready, she found Fridolina, who came a little earlier. The tall woman greeted her with open arms, something that she felt she needed.

"Nervous?" The Swedish player asked, and the Spanish one just nodded. "Is it about tonight or about Y/n?" She asked even if she already knew the answer.

"Both," Aitana said, sitting next to her teammate, "maybe more about Y/n than about tonight. She was supposed to text me when she arrived in Paris, but I didn't receive anything. I try to not freak out. I'm saying to myself that maybe she just had an emergency at work, but if it was, she always told me."

"Don't worry, I'm sure she's just doing something and forgot to tell you." Her teammate tried to reassure her.

~~~~

A few hours later, the girls were ready to leave, but the midfielder was still waiting for your text.

"Hey, stop worrying; I'm sure she will come with your parents." Mapi said while forcing the brunette out.

Outside, a vehicle was waiting for them. Someone opened the door for them. Your girlfriend was the first one to enter, but she stopped immediately.

"¿Qué haces aquí? (What are you doing here?)" The short girl asked, making all the players behind them stop.

"Nunca me perdería esto por nada. (I would never miss this for anything.)" You replied.

"Oh, look at who finally decided to show up." Patri commented, making you snort.

"Okay girls, I would like to talk, but I think you're waiting somewhere, so what are you waiting for?" You reminded them.

During the whole ride, Aitana had her head pressed against your shoulder while her hands were stuck in yours.

"I think that's the first time I've seen her smile since we arrived here." Salma said loudly, making everyone laugh in the process.

"She just missed her girl; I think it's fair." Mapi defended her.

"And I missed you too." You whispered to your girlfriend before landing a kiss on her head, which made all the girls coo at the same time.

~~~~~

"...And the winner for the women's Ballon d'Or is... Aitana Bonmatí." Everybody was applauding, and you started to feel tears in your eyes' corners.

During her speech, you were remembering all the moments you spent together. Since the first time you met her when you were just two kids until now. And it was a long journey.

There were tears, exhaustion, and loss, but there was also victory and joy every time you watched her play, the tittles, collectively or personally. And above all, there was love. The same love for the same girl since you were kids.

The same with whom you lived with since almost four years, the same girls who were always there for you when you needed the most, the same who knew you maybe more than yourself.

In the reflection of the video that were shown about her journey, you were seeing what she could achieve later and what you could both have been in the future.

After the ceremony and the photo, you were back in the hotel when something came to Aitana's mind. In front of the hotel, while every girl started to fill the building, the midfielder used that moment to keep you behind.

"Hey, is everything okay?" You asked when you felt her hand on your arm.

"Can we walk away? Don't worry, it's just for a few minutes."

"Yeah, of course." You let her lead the way until she found a spot not too dark with some lovely spotlights. She took your hands and made you look at her.

"Amor, I want to thank you for being here today with me and just being in my life. I-I know that I tell you every day, but I love you. I'm in love with you, and it's not going to change. You're one of the reasons why I'm here today and why I became so good. I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

"I'm sure you would."

"Please don't ruin it."

"I'm sorry."

"I was thinking about it for a moment now, and when I saw you tonight, it confirmed what I thought. Y/n, I want to spend my life with you, to be able to love you and be worth yours for the rest of my life. Y/n Y/l/n, would you marry me?" She showed you a velvet box with a beautifulring in it.

"Wow, do you mean like right now? I know that Paris is called the city of love, but I think we need someone to officialize everything." You replied.

"Stop being a smartass and answer, please." She slapped your arms, making you laugh.

"Of course I do." You replied, and she finally smiled again. "I would be a fool if I declined the offer." You added.

"Can we finish that? It started to be cold." You chuckled while she placed the ring on your finger. You both stayed looking at each other for a few seconds before finally kissing.

The cute moment was interrupted by some applause from the other girls.

"What are you doing here?" Aitana asked, a little embarrassed, to the audience.

"Patri wanted to follow you; and Mapi agreed." Salma said earning a nudge from the two older women.

"Who cares about that? We're proud of you." Patri said while she quickly came to hug her teammate. Quickly after, all the girls came to hug you both and congratulate you.

On your way back, you had your arm around Aitana's shoulder. Listen to the girls talking about the ceremony with a big smile on your face. You looked at the midfielder under your arm and gave her a light kiss on her shoulder.

"Te quiero."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmatí #aitana bonamti x reader #aitana bonmatí x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #spain wnt x reader

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reidbae · 6 months

Text

DAY 22: Blissful — voice kink w/dom!aaron hotchner

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: Your husband calls you on the way home from work, and is annoyedly cut off in traffic, causing him to say a word or two about it. But when you find yourself aroused by his voice alone, he's eager to take care of you the second he walks through the door.

pairing: dom!husband!aaron hotchner x sub!fem!wife!reader

warnings/mentions: use of pet names (baby, doll, honey, princess, sweet girl), huge sir kink, cussing obv, reader is held down, teasing, fingering, praise, not rlly degradation but def in that area, lmk if i missed something!

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i'm so happy i was finally able to write for hotch <3 this fic does him literally no justice at all but i will make a better one in the future :,)

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1 @mrs-ssa-hotch

"Hello?" you said, your phone held to your ear as you sat in your living room.

You had been home by yourself all day while your husband was at work. He had been working more hours than usual these days, and always called you when he was on his way home, knowing that you missed him.

"Hi, honey. I didn't wake you, did I?" Aaron's deep voice rang out from the other end of the line. A smile played across your lips as you heard your husband's voice for the first time in too long, and you giggled.

"No. I've been up. I can't sleep when you're not here," you said with a laugh, feeling your face flush with heat. Aaron chuckled, too. You could hear the sound of him driving in the background as he spoke to you.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I should be home in less than ten," said Aaron in response. "Did you eat? Shower?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, smiling. Aaron always knew just how to take care of you and make sure you were okay, even if he couldn't be there in person to do it. "Yes, and yes, sir," you joked.

Aaron chuckled again. "That's good, baby. And you made sure to rest today?" he said.

Again, you rolled your eyes, and nodded, like he could see you. "Yes, Aaron."

"Okay, just making sure. I—" Aaron began. He soon cut himself off, a curse word falling from his lips in lieu. "Asshole."

Your eyes perked and you raised an eyebrow, wondering why he had said that. Who was he talking to?

And why did it give you butterflies?

"Aaron? A- Aaron, what happened?" you asked bewilderedly, jumping up a little in your seat.

"Sorry, honey, I'm sorry. Some guy just, fuck," he said in a deep voice. "Some guy just cut me off. I'm lucky he didn't hit me," Aaron huffed annoyedly. It was like you could see him rolling his eyes.

"Oh, God, a- are you okay?" you asked. You were sure that your tone was giving what you were thinking away, because it wasn't really one of concern: It was one of shyness, like you had other things on your mind.

That's because you did.

"Yeah, honey, don't worry. I'm fine. Sorry if I scared you," Aaron said in a caring voice. "Driving through D.C. is hell at any hour, for fuck's sake," he cursed again. "It's a wonder anyone can get anywhere."

"Uh, yeah- Mmhm, I agree," you responded inattentively, feeling yourself zone out as your husband spoke to you.

Aaron didn't seem to notice, however, and kept talking to you in that deep voice of his, rambling on about his day. He talked more than you did, which wasn't usually the case, but only because you were so mesmerized by the deep, authoritative way about his voice that you didn't dare to interrupt it.

After a while, though, however, Aaron began to pick up on your silence, and spoke up. "You okay, honey? You're not talking much."

You snapped back into reality, your eyes going a little wide. "Hm- What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just fine," you did your best to lie, sighing.

"That didn't sound very convincing. Come on, princess, what's wrong? You can tell me," said Aaron reassuringly.

It wasn't a question of what was wrong. It was one of what was right.

"Nothing's wrong, Aaron," you giggled in response, blushing.

"Oh, yeah, princess?" Aaron chuckled through the phone. "Are you lying to me?"

You began to run your fingers through your hair, playing with it as you talked to him. "No..." you giggled. His voice was really beginning to get to you now, and you rubbed your thighs together in response to it.

"Well—Maybe there is something."

"Now we're getting somewhere. Are you going to tell me what the matter is, then, baby?" said Aaron, laughing.

"Nothing's the matter...It's just...Well...I just like your voice."

Aaron paused for only a few seconds to process what you'd said. Then, he began to laugh. "My voice, doll? Did I hear that right?" he asked.

You covered your face shyly. "Y- Yes. I don't know. But it's making me feel all hot inside," you admitted to him.

Aaron didn't need to understand precisely what you meant, as long as he knew that it was getting you going. "I'm happy to hear that, honey," he said to you, his voice going lower. "I'll take care of you when I'm home, then, doll. I want you there as soon as I walk through the door. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand," you said with an affirmative nod, eager to do whatever Aaron asked of you.

"Attagirl."

—

As soon as Aaron had walked through the door, you were running to his arms, just like he'd asked you to. He scooped you up effortlessly, using one hand to hold your leg, and the other to support your bottom. You reveled in the feeling of your legs wrapped around his torso.

Aaron's lips found yours in seconds, tongue dancing with yours in a sea of pent up passion. He spun you round, pinning you to the front door, before setting you down to your feet.

Aaron grabbed your wrists to hold them above your head, before attacking your neck with kisses. You squirmed under his touch, your head lolling back on the door with pleasure.

Aaron's eyes met yours, and he chuckled deeply in your ear. "Hi, baby," he said in a raspy voice, smirking down at you.

"H- Hi," you stuttered out to him, biting down on your lip.

"Did you miss me?" Aaron smiled, pressing rough kisses to your neck and collarbone. You whimpered at the feeling, nodding.

"Y- Yes, sir. I missed you so much," you said openly, not giving a care to how needy you sounded. Aaron nodded, only smiling more at your words.

"Mmhm. I wonder how much," Aaron hummed. "Let's see how wet you are for me, hm, baby?"

Aaron didn't give you a second to respond before his hands were dipping into your underwear, slipping between your folds. You whimpered in response as his fingers found your wetness, playing softly with your body.

"Fuck, baby, you're soaked," Aaron said to you, as if you didn't already know that. "And my voice was all it took, huh?" he smirked in a teasing tone of voice.

When you didn't answer, Aaron's grip on your wrists roughened, and it was clear that he was not taking your silence for an answer. "Tell me, princess."

You felt your knees grow weak, and you slid down the wall a little, closing your eyes shyly. "Y- Yes, sir. A- All it took was your voice," you whined.

"There's my good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Aaron teased you, beginning to move his finger up and down your folds. You squirmed some more, groaning.

"N- No, sir," you stuttered out, allowing your body to be taken over by bliss.

Aaron took that as a sign to keep going, your hands still pinned above your head as he snuck a finger inside of you. Your back arched on the door behind you as your body shook for him, and you whined.

Aaron smiled at you, pressing his lips to yours in a wild frenzy of tongues mixing together, lips working each other's to no end. You were helpless to Aaron, unable to do much else but bask in the pleasure he was providing for you.

Aaron raised his head to your ear, bowing down to your level just to whisper to you. "You look so pretty like this, doll. All needy for me," he whispered in his deep voice. Your brain was beginning to fog up with your growing need to hear more of his voice.

"I love being able to do this to you," he chuckled, kissing the spot just below your ear. "Knowing you're all mine. That no one else can see you like this."

As his words fell from his tongue like honey, his fingers moved quicker, eager to make you feel good. You looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded as you licked your lips. "I- I'm all yours, Aaron. God, I'm yours."

"Damn straight, doll," said Aaron deeply, his voice raspy as he responded to you.

It was embarrassing how quickly you needed to come. But, fuck, that's what Aaron Hotchner would do to anyone, and you weren't afraid to acknowledge that.

As Aaron felt your walls closing around his finger, he looked down at you, knowing what was impending. "Mmm, you gonna come on my fingers, doll?"

"Y- Yes, sir," you moaned out, dizzy with desire. "Please, God, please don't stop."

That was the last thing on his mind.

You rode out your high with a blissful passion as Aaron pumped his fingers in and out of you, kissing you and whispering to you as you came all over his hand.

Aaron finally released your wrists when you came undone, and removed his finger from your cunt. Like he'd always done, he sucked his fingers dry, leaving you breathless at the view.

"I love you so much, sweet girl," Aaron smiled at you, using the hand that had been pinning you down to brush hair out of your face. You smiled up at him.

"I love you, too."

—

reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

—

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—

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x you #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader

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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

lost in japan | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader word count: 5.5k words request: yes by anon: “could you please write an imagine where mick and reader have a crush on each other but whenever they're together they always get shy or flustered and it's all cute and stuff?” & “may i please have some crumbs of vettel!reader and mick slowly catching feelings for one another and seb is in the front row eating popcorn watching as it unfolds” warnings: language, time jumps (i tried my best with the years and ages (reader and mick are the same age)). also! again! seb’s age makes no sense here!!!!!!!!!!! another thing, i know cherry blossom season is in march-may but let’s pretend it’s also in september-october okay byeeee. a/n: it is 4:30 am and i just finished this, kinda glad bc it confirms my theory that i work best during the night.

my masterlist

meeting him was the beginning of everything.

there was nothing special about their first meeting, but her life would change completely from that moment on.

she always wanted to go with her father to his races, she loved that her dad was so passionate about the sport, everytime he returned home he’d explain everything to her, she always had a million questions.

so, when she was eleven years old, in 2010, she joined her father, sebastian, for the first time. they traveled to monaco, a track that his father loved and could potentially give him the lead of the championship if he were to win it.

age 11, 2010.

she held her father’s hand and looked at everything surrounding her. everything was so big and shiny and new to her.

“woud you look at that?” a tall man said as they walked the paddock. he had a big smile on his face, she recognized him.

“dad, that’s your friend!” she said, pointing at the man.

“yes, darling, that’s my friend, michael,” seb looked down at her, smiling.

“hi, michael!” she waved her hand, the older german ruffled her hair in return.

“it’s great to finally meet you, and see you here. is this your first time here?”

“yeah! i’ve always wanted to see this in real life,” her smile was big as she looked at the teams’ motorhomes around her.

“and what’s your first impression?”

“i don’t think i want to leave,” she giggled, looking up at her father.

“well, i’ll let you get back to your tour. but when you have some free time make sure to stop by the mercedes garage, okay? i think my son could use a friend,”

“ah, you’ve brought mick with you?” sebastian asked, his friend nodded. “then he’ll have to come to the dark side, cause my kid is not going anywhere near that garage,” he shook his head, as both his friend and his daughter laughed.

“we’ll figure it out, these two need to meet, though.”

okay, maybe meeting him did have something special about it. a thought ran through her mind, maybe they’d grow to be as close as their fathers.

age 22, 2021.

“hey kid,” she froze, eyes widening as she turned around.

“dad!” she wrapped her arms around her father, closing her eyes as she hid her face in his chest. “what are you doing here?”

“good to see you’ve missed me, you haven’t called in so long i thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“it was only three days, dad. but i’m so sorry, it’s just… i’ve been busy here, and with the schedules and time difference, i-”

“it’s okay. i’m just happy to know you’re alright,” he smiled, ruffling her hair.

“i am. i am, it’s… kinda hard to believe that this is finally happening,”

“well after all these years and all your hard work, you deserve this, my love,” he threw an arm over his daughter’s shoulders, holding her close.

after endless classes, auditions, she was finally about to star her first movie as the lead actress. when she was about thirteen an idea got to her head, and it was impossible to get it out. she took as many acting classes as she could, even left her home when she was seventeen to fly overseas and hopefully get more opportunities to be in the spotlight.

it didn’t surprise sebastian, that his daughter would find her passion in acting. when she was little she used to always set up plays where she portrayed every role, most times recreating a disney movie she’d seen that day. he trusted her. he knew that a child’s dream had to be supported as much as possible, just like his own parents had done with his.

distance had been difficult at first, but once her first roles started coming, once she started to get so busy she barely had time to sleep, she knew it was all worth it. her first roles were small, but slowly, she caught people’s attention. casting directors, actors she’d worked with were asking to work with her again. it was simply out of this world.

“i- but dad… don’t you have a race this weekend?” she said, walking through the different sets of the studio until she reached her trailer. she was in the middle of shooting, but sebastian arrived just in time since she was about to take a break.

“yeah, that’s why i’m here. i’d like you to come with me,”

“dad,” she smiled. it had been years since she stepped foot in the f1 paddock, she remembered when her entire life revolved around that sport, when she wanted to know every detail there was to know about it… that’s not to say that that wasn’t the truth anymore, but her passion for the sport moved aside, leaving space for what would become her job, her favorite thing in her life. of course, she still followed the sport, tried to not miss any races, supporting her father, her favorite person and biggest inspiration.

“come on, i know you have the weekend off,”

“how did you-” she frowned

“your mother,” he answered. she sighed, but smiled after a second.

“okay. i’ll go”

a beautiful ‘before and after’ picture would be created later on the weekend, as she walked side by side with her father down the f1 paddock. just like she’d done when she was little. she was getting deja vu. she was happy she’d decided to join her dad, they didn’t spend as much time together as of lately, but this weekend she was determined to make the most of their time together.

as they walked, sebastian was catching her up on everything she’d missed since the last time she was there, which was about two years ago. she knew some things from speaking with him, and from the things she saw online, but there was nothing like seeing it all in real life.

they were stopped several times, by fans, journalists, and even people who knew her since she was just a kid. mechanics, engineers, and other team members from both red bull and ferrari.

then, someone caught up to them, embracing sebastian and smiling, her father patted the young man on the back, keeping a hand on his shoulder once they separated.

“all good?” sebastian asked, the younger blonde nodded, noticing her.

“(y/n)?” he asked, his eyes drifting back and forth between the father-daughter pair. sebastian smiled at the way mick’s eyes widened. he knew it.

she nodded, frowning as she couldn’t quite name the person infront of her.

“it’s been so long, how have you been?” he asked, smiling.

that was it.

she recognized that smile.

age 11, 2010.

contrary to the previous days, that saturday afternoon, she found herself watching the qualifying session with company. of course, the day before she hadn’t been completely alone, but she wasn’t with people she knew that well.

seb had meant his words, his daughter couldn’t leave the red bull motorhome, not because he didn’t allow it, but because he didn’t trust anyone to really take her through the paddock to the mercedes garage. so, corinna schumacher and her kids, mick and gina, went to find the young girl.

‘michael, his wife and kids, you can trust them.’ those had been her father’s words before introducing her to them.

she’d been quite shy at first, keeping to herself and just staring at the screens. she’d already had all of her questions answered during the first two practice sessions, but quali was different. she didn’t get it.

mick noticed her small frown, and he turned to his mother, who was busy staring at the screens showing michael’s data.

“mom,” he called, the woman turned to him, running her fingers through his hair, making a mental note to take him to get a haircut soon. “she’s upset,” he said. “why?”

“well, i don’t know. why don’t you ask her? maybe you can help her feel better.” mick turned his head back, pursing his lips, then nodded.

he walked to the young vettel girl, standing behind her. but he couldn’t figure out how to talk to her. then, he heard her talking to herself.

“why is it only eighteen minutes?” she huffed, her eyes glued to the moving cars.

“are-are you mad?” mick asked her, not thinking twice about his words, or how he could’ve startled her. she jumped, moving to the side and looking back at him.

“what?” she asked.

“are you… upset?” he tried again, raising his eyebrows, he didn’t know why he felt nervous talking to her.

“no. yes. i- i don’t know,” she said, looking back at the wall of screens in front of her. “dad said ‘see you in an hour’, but the clock says there’s only fifteen minutes left,” she pointed.

“oh!” he said, “that’s just the end of q1,” he continued, but she stared at him only with confusion in her face. “sorry, qualifying is divided in three, q1, q2, and q3,” he started, she nodded.

“i know that, but-”

“all qualifying sessions last different times, and when you add it all up it takes about an hour, a little longer sometimes,” he explained, “i know it can be confusing, but that’s why i’m here! and my mom and my sister. we’re here to take care of you. that’s what my dad said,”

“thanks, that’s… nice.”

“you’re welcome. and… i know that our dads are friends. so… maybe we’ll be like them when we grow up!” mick smiled, and her eyes drifted down to his lips, he had a nice smile. she could still see it in her head seconds after, that was a smile she’d never forget.

“i was thinking the same thing.”

–

age 22, 2021.

“mick?” she asked, eyes wide. “no way, you made it to f1?” she asked, eyeing his shirt and cap.

“finally,” he smiled, she chuckled, she remembered hearing him talk non-stop about one day being like his father. she was happy he’d finally reached that dream.

“congratulations! i- that’s amazing!” she smiled, “why didn’t you tell me? any of you?” she asked, looking from her old friend to her father.

“well, you’ve barely had time to pick up the phone and say hi, i didn’t even get a chance,” sebastian shrugged. she turned to mick, raising an eyebrow.

“well i… you know… we haven’t talked in a long time and… i didn’t think you’d care,”

“oh, come on! it’s me! i’ve known you… forever!” she was genuinely shocked that she’d missed this news, “you know you can tell me anything-”

“yeah, she’ll just answer three days later,” her father butted in.

“but i’ll answer,” she defended herself, “anyway, as i was saying before being rudely interrupted, doesn’t matter how much time passes, i’m here for you, yeah?” she smiled, trying to think when the last time they’d spoken was. too long ago.

“got it, and… same goes to you,” he grinned too, and she was immediately transported back to her teenage years. “i have to go, but it was great seeing you, you’re staying the whole weekend?” he raised his eyebrows, smiling as she nodded, “great, guess i’ll see you around,”

she nodded again, waving her hand at him, but he took a step closer to her, moving to wrap his arms around her, she was caught off guard, but slid her hands around his waist in return.

“good luck,” she told him, watching him walk away after he said goodbye to sebastian. she turned to her father, and frowned. “what?”

“anything i should know?”

“what?” she asked, seb raised his eyebrows.

“you’re… flustered,” he noticed, she rolled her eyes.

“i’m not,” she grunted, pushing him with her shoulder. seb chuckled, walking beside her, “everything used to be so big,”

“it’s all the same, you just grew up,” he smiled, a nostalgic smile.

“don’t get emotional,” she chuckled.

“you and mick…” seb started, “what… what happened between you two?”

“what do you mean?”

“well, one day you wre hanging out, the next it’s like you never knew each other.”

“i don’t know, i mean… i still consider him my friend, you know? like… he was a big part of my adolescence and i just… got busy. but, so did he. i’ve followed his career, well, i must’ve messed up somewhere along the way since i missed the news that he was in f1.”

“maybe this weekend you guys can work on that,” he suggested as they reached the aston martin hospitality. “i’m sure he’s missed you. he always asks me about you,”

“really?” she asked, taking one last look behind her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere in sight.

“every weekend.” seb nodded. “he’s a good kid. you two have my blessing, you know? in case you both ever want to… you know.”

“dad!”

age 23, 2022.

seoul had always been one of her favorite cities. the culture, the people, the different traditions compared to what she was used to from living in europe for so long. it was always special when she was there.

but that night, she wasn’t as ecstatic about being there.

not when he was so near yet so far at the same time.

it was pathetic, really, to be that infatuated with someone. she’d lived many years without him in her life, and it only took him one weekend to turn her life upside down.

mick and her father were in japan, it was the last time sebastian would race there, and her stomach hurt at the fact that they were really close, but she was stuck in south korea for the press junket of her first movie, a little over a year’s work was finally ready for the world to see.

to say that she was stuck would be an exaggeration, she’d arrived a few days before to get used to the time difference, she didn’t have to be there until wednesday, and it was currently monday. and all she wanted to do was get out of there.

she was being dramatic.

but she did wish she could be there with him.

her phone rang, and she ran to the bed, picking it up. she smiled as she picked up the call.

“hey,” she said, a smile appearing on her face before even hearing his voice, just reading his name in the contact was enough to turn her stomach upside down, to make her heart beat at high speed.

“hi, i didn’t know if you were busy, i-”

“no, i’m free,” she bit her lip, “how’s japan?”

“well, i actually haven’t had the chance to check it out, i’ve been sleeping all day,” he chuckled, she let herself fall on the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“tired?”

“not anymore,” he laughed, which made her chuckle, too. “and you? have you explored seoul yet?”

“ah, well that’s the plan. that’s why i got here a few days before necessary,” she explained.

“oh, that’s nice, i’m sure there’s a ton of things to do there,” mick said, his voice sounding lower than before.

“yeah,” she sighed, “tokyo sounds great right now, though.”

“so does seoul.”

“what a tragedy we are,” she chuckled, biting her lip. “if only… there was a way to solve this,”

“switch places?” mick joked, though there was nearly no humor in his voice.

“maybe… we could get lost in japan.”

“we?"

"you're two hours away," she whispered, standing up and walking to the window, the sun was starting to go down, the best of seoul's night life would be starting soon. "i'm only a couple hundred miles away,"

"do you want to get lost in japan?" he asked, and she could hear the smile on his face.

"let's get lost."

age 22, 2021.

she felt like a little kid again. she remembered the thrill and excitement the pre-race brought, but living it as an adult, after years and years being away from this world, it felt like living it for the first time.

watching her father get ready, she thought about how lucky she was to have him. he’d taught her to fight for her dreams and not give up until she achieved them, to love people with kindness and give back whenever she could.

there were cameras all over the place, something she’d gotten used to. her eyes shifted from her dad, who was talking to the mechanics, to the screens on the side of the garage.

after a few seconds, she saw herself. she smiled at her ‘reflection’, turning to the side until she spotted the camera, giving it a small wave before looking back to the screen. she saw herself doing that, then the broadcast changed from her, to mick. who was also smiling at the screen, and the delay allowed her to watch him smile at her.

she looked down, feeling her face getting flustered. she and mick had been rekindling their friendship that weekend, catching up when he had free time, remembering the days when the paddock was their playground. it was easy and she was happy that they’d had the chance to do it, she felt bad for losing touch with him years ago.

“it’s time,” her father said, walking to her. she smiled, hugging him.

“good luck and fight hard,” she said, watching his eyes light up as he recognized those words. the same words she told him the day of her first f1 race.

after watching her dad step in the car and wait until he drove away, she stood up and walked down the paddock, sneaking into a different garage.

mick was zipping up his suit, adjusting the velcro strap. her lips curled up as she watched his concentrated face, his eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to be in deep thought. a second later, he turned his head to his side, and he had to do a double take to make sure he was really seeing her there.

she smiled sheepishly now that she’d been caught, she took one careful step in, relaxing as he walked to her.

“hey,” she said, smiling wider. “just wanted to wish you good luck,”

“thank you,” he grinned, a light pink tint creeping on his cheeks, “i’m really gonna need it,” he exhaled deeply.

“you’re gonna do great,” she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “come here,” she pulled him closer, giving him what was supposed to be a quick hug, but he wrapped an arm around her back, keeping her there for longer than what was deemed appropriate. “i know this place brings back a lot of memories, but just enjoy it. it’s your first time here, racing in f1, your dream. you got this, mick.”

after the race she went to the pit lane, hugging her dad, but spotting another blonde german behind him.

“i’ll be right back, dad,” she told him, making her way to mick. “hey, that was so cool. congrats on finishing your first monaco race,” she hugged him, feeling his arms around her back.

“your dad is watching us. he’s smiling really weird, make him stop, please,” he pleaded, and she turned around to see her dad raise his eyebrows. she rolled her eyes, smiling sheepishly at mick.

“it sometimes feels as if he’s the kid. i should go. i’ll talk to you later,” she raised on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

age 23, 2022.

she’d landed in tokyo. the city was filled with lights, skyscrapers, and she never wanted to leave. she’d told her dad about her plans, and had arranged a dinner for the three of them. she was the first to arrive, and was waiting for the two drivers to get there. the place was packed, but of course they’d given priority to sebastian vettel and his daughter. her booth was away from the rest of the other tables, it felt closed off and she was glad the place was good for talking. it would be good for catching up with them.

it was night, and she was feeling quite tired after a hectic and busy day, but she had limited time before having to jump back to her own responsibilities. she wanted to make the most of her free time.

footsteps caught her attention, she looked up, a happy smile on her face.

“mick!” she jumped up from her seat, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. it had been about a month since she last saw him, but she missed him as if it had been years. “how have you been?”

“i’m good, you?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek as his way to say hi.

“same. i… on my way here i was thinking that maybe… i was overreacting, and that i could’ve just come here after the race and-”

“no, i- it’s fine. actually i- as soon as i landed i just knew that you’d love this place if you were here. so i guess i- i’m glad that you wanted to get lost-” they both smiled at his words, “with me.” the concept of ‘getting lost’ in a new place fascinated her, to be so mesmerized and hypnotized by the people and the little markets and stores, that you forget about time, responsibilities.

she smiled at him, nodding, she sat back in her place, with mick in front of her.

“oh, great, i thought i was late,” mick said, sitting in front of her, “your dad’s always pestering me about being on time, and look at him, or- well, you know, you can’t because he’s not here.” he continued, “shutting up now.” he raised his hands as she laughed.

just at that moment her phone rang.

“sorry,” she excused herself as she picked up her phone. “dad?”

“hey, kid, so… i won’t be able to make it tonight. some last minute thing with the team came up. but! you two enjoy a nice dinner, catch up, behave and use protection,” he rushed the last few words before hanging up.

she was left with wide eyes and heat creeping up her cheeks, she shyly looked over at mick, thinking about how to explain what her father just said.

“what did he say?” mick asked, still so confused about everything happening.

“um… dad’s not coming, um, he said we should have a nice time and catch up.”

“oh… well, that’s alright with me, if…” he started, raising his eyebrows as he waited for her answer.

“yeah, i- yeah, let’s do it, we’re already here.” she smiled, pushing aside her nerves, reminding herself who she’s with. it’s mick. sweet, kind, thoughtful mick. her friend mick.

mick, who was staring at her with those big, bright blue eyes that took her breath away.

they talked, ate, drank wine and felt as if they were the only people in the world. conversation flowed easily with him, and the best part was that he really seemed interested in watever she was saying, he asked questions, gave suggestions and advice. and when it was his turn to talk, it took everything in her not to swoon right then and there. he spoke with such confidence and eloquence, softly. and even used his hands to emphasize important points.

they had to be basically thrown out of the restaurant, since they’d stayed thirty minutes past their closing time already. but that ddn’t mean they had to go their separate ways. they walked the streets of tokyo, side by side, speaking lowly as to not disturb the people sleeping, even though it seemed that no one was in their homes, since there were lots of people enjoying the nightlife. but it never crossed either of their minds to do anything other than walk and talk, and laugh and smile. mick took his jacket off when he noticed her skin got goosebumps after a particularly strong gust of wind, draping it over her shoulders, his heart stopped at the soft sigh that left her throat as she felt the comforting warmth enveloping her.

shy smiles and hidden looks when the other was unaware seemed to be their favorite way of communication. their eyes spoke all the words neither of them was ready to speak, perhaps because they didn’t yet know what they were feeling, or couldn’t figure out a way to express it.

he walked her to the hotel, at some point during their walk his hand had found hers.

he’d pulled her close to him, hiding in an alley to avoid a group of drunk men approaching them. it was probably nothing, but mick had been quick to think of a way to avoid them. she’d pressed a hand against his chest, looking up at him as he pressed a finger to her lips, telling her to be quiet. once they passed, and after a few seconds of silence, in which they stared at each other, he leaned down to press a kiss to the side of her head, tugging at her hand to keep walking. she licked her lips, biting her bottom one to try and stop the tingling sensation she was feeling.

they hadn’t let go, not that either of them wanted to. but as she looked down to their joined hands, once they reached the door leading to his hotel room, she realized she never wanted to let him go.

he blushed under her stare, tapping his thumb against the back of her hand as he moved his hand back. since her decision to travel to japan had been a really sudden one, most hotels had been booked for the grand prix, and mick had insisted she stayed with him, claiming to have more than enough room for the two of them.

the next day, they woke up early. it was their only full day they had together in japan, and they were both more than ready to get lost in beautiful tokyo.

their first stop was an electronic store, where she bought an instant camera to capture their adventures of the day. after that they went to have breakfast at a famous cat cafe, which mick was dreading. it’s not like he hated cats, but he was a dog person, and the few times he’d interacted with cats they ended up scratching him, hissing at him or just ignoring him. not this time, a cat immediately crawled in his lap, claiming it as his seat for the day.

he smiled as she took a picture of him and the cat, and he noticed the way her lips curled up softly as she looked at the developed photograph.

that day would go down as one of her favorite days, an entire day with someone who made her feel special, who was almost as excited as she was about doing all the basic tourist stuff.

“i think we really are lost,” mick said, as he stopped in his tracks, making her stop as well. once again, her hand was in his. neither of them noticed when it happened, it just did. but they were both aware of how natural and right it felt.

“we just have to take a right turn,” she pointed.

“you’re sure?” he raised his eyebrows.

“that’s what the lady said,” she nodded, taking a few steps and dragging him behind her. “see? i told you we’d- whoa!” she whispered, looking at the huge park in front of her, filled with big cherry blossom trees. “mick, look at this,” she tugged on his hand running towards the park. she let go of him as she rushed deeper into the park.

“it’s beautiful,” he said, watching her wide eyes take everything in. she looked beautiful. a big smile on her face as she saw all the trees, the pink flowers.

“come here, i want to take a picture of you,” she said, making him pose in front of a tree. in the middle of the photograph stood mick, with his signature grin on, and everything behind him was pink.

“your turn,” he declared once the picture developed. he waited for her to decide how she wanted her picture, but she was simply so taken aback by the beauty of this place, that he decided to capture her like that. with her looking up at the trees, a smile on her face. she didn’t notice him until he was shaking the photograph, and she smiled wide at the gesture. that’s when he snapped a second picture.

“mick!” she laughed, taking the camera from him, he slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he shook the picture with his free hand.

“hold on,” he said, walking to a girl about their age, he asked her to take a picture of the two of them. once he returned to her side, his arm returned to its previous place, bringing her close to him as she slid an arm around his back. before the girl took the picture he looked at her, which caused her to look up at him. they both smiled at the same time, and that’s when the girl took the picture.

after an entire day out on the streets of tokyo, they went to a sushi restaurant, nothing fancy, just what looked to be like a family-owned business.

“thank you for spending this day with me,” she said, taking a sip from her water. her throat was dry, her feet ached and her makeup probably needed more than just a touch-up. “i loved every second of it.”

“hey, you don’t need to thank me. i- i really enjoyed this day as well, i felt… free,”

she nodded, sharing the same feeling.

“besides i- i don’t think there’s anyone that i’d rather get lost with, other than you,” he smiled, his hand reaching for hers. she let him intertwine their fingers together, she’d gotten used to the feeling of his hand on hers.

“i feel the same way,” she said shyly, and it was not her turn to watch him get flustered under her stare.

once they reached their hotel, with the moon and neon lights illuminating the city, they sat on the balcony to look at the pictures they’d taken throughout the day, with a sharpie in hand to write small notes underneath. they watched the cars passing by, head the sounds a big city like tokyo made. when she got cold, instead of getting her a blanket, mick offered to keep her warm, she sat between his legs, with his arms around her.

“this one is my favorite,” she said, smiling at the picture of the two of them standing in front of the cherry blossoms.

“mine too,” he tightened his arms around her. she leaned her back against his chest, looking up at him.

“what should we name it?” she asked.

“hmm, i’m not sure,” he replied, staring deeply into her eyes. “would ‘lost in japan’ be too obvious?” he asked.

“maybe,” she chuckled. “i know i’ve already said it but… i just wanted to thank you. i really- i can’t describe how much i loved getting lost with you.”

“and i already told you, i only want to get lost with you. and you know what the best part about getting lost is?”

“what?” she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“being found. i- i want… i want to be the person you get lost with, and the one to find you. i want to explore the world by your side, and be consumed by the beauty of it, at the same time as i’m learning more about myself… and about you.”

“mick-”

“i’ve liked you, for so long. i think you were my first crush since back in the day. the years when you went away, when we lost touch, i’d convinced myself that i’d lost you forever, and would only have to know about you through your dad. but after last year… in monaco, when i saw you i just knew. i couldn’t let you go again. and i’ve loved every moment, every conversation we’ve shared since that weekend, i’ve loved getting to know you, and knowing that the kid i knew is still in here,” he tapped her chest, where her heart was, with one finger. “and getting lost with you these few days has been the best choice i’ve ever made. i not only got lost in this place… i also got lost in you. in your mind, your ideas and dreams. it’s like a paradise.”

she cut his words off by placing her lips on his. after years, they were both admitting that this thing between them was more than just a friendship, that the reason they couldn’t get the other out of their minds wasn’t just because they were good friends.

getting lost might have been the best decision they ever took. and having the right partner to get lost with. with the promise that they’d find each other during each adventure.

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hard-core-super-star · 1 month

Text

make every mistake [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.

warnings: technically none; bitter exes being bitter but also getting distracted; A LOT of references to cheating [very open to interpretation, though; more than one reference to JA; rubix please get over sunkissing challenge; did not proofread at all so it might not make the most sense at times; does this count as a ventfic?

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: i was supposed to be writing something else [what a surprise lmao] but...it's sunkissing's anniversary and unfortunately, that song still means a lot to me and i needed to be nostalgic for a second. plus, last year's vanity fair party is what inspired me to start writing fanfiction again so...consider this a very weird, bitter, and nostalgic first anniversary celebration. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your love, support, and patience this past year, i plan to continue writing for you guys for a LONG while <3 [and yes, this is sunkissing (sad girl edition)]

* * * * * * * Whoever coined the phrase,”wrong place, right time,” as a good thing seriously owes you some compensation. It implies that there could be something possibly good in the situation you’re in but what could be good about being stuck at the same party your ex is also at?

Of course, that person might get along with your friends who have been trying to convince you that this situation is a fantastic opportunity for you to show how happy you are. Something that would work if it were true.

But it’s not.

How could happiness be anywhere on your radar when every time you interact with someone, they’re quick to remind you your ex-girlfriend is currently parading around with a quarterback? Not to mention, the amount of cheating rumors hasn’t been helping you feel much better about the situation.

Maybe you’re overly petty or arrogant, maybe even codependent, but time has done little to heal the wounds caused by a certain actress.

Which is why you were supposed to be out having fun in the first place…although maybe all of this could have been avoided if a certain 22-year-old hadn’t lied her ass off and told you there was no chance in hell your ex would show up.

All you know is you’re stuck in a room full of people you don’t care about, anxiously looking around every few minutes hoping you won’t run into her. It’s exhausting but it’s also highly addictive.

You’re in the middle of debating ditching Billie and the rest of your friends instead of torturing yourself for another hour when you catch a glimpse of the person you’ve been trying to avoid all night.

Your eyes find her for just a few seconds and yet the whole world seems to stop all at once.

Just like the first time.

You wouldn’t say you have a habit of romanticizing the past…except when it comes to Hailee Steinfeld and her ridiculously enchanting energy. A lot of things have changed since the day you met but the one thing you’re sure will remain a part of you forever is the way your heart takes off running when she's around.

Running away would be easy. It would probably be the solution to your impending problem and yet you stay. Because as much as you hate to admit it…you’ve missed her. Seeing just a glimpse of her feels like ecstasy after spending so long trying to erase the thought of her from your mind.

You know you’re chasing after someone who isn’t even there anymore, someone who vanished the day Hailee chose to go out to dinner with that guy instead of coming home to you. The person you love has been shoved back into far more closets than you can count but you’re an addict and the thought of getting her back for just a few minutes gives you a greater high than anything else ever could.

So, despite the thousands of reasons not to, you find yourself walking toward her. You tell yourself it’ll be fine, she’s in the middle of ordering a drink and the chances of her paying attention to you are close to zero.

You quickly learn close to zero isn’t enough.

You arrive at the bar right when she’s turning around to go back to whoever it is she’s pretending to get along with tonight. Her eyes instantly find yours and whatever liquid courage you had fades away in that very same instant.

For a second, you expect her to walk away without even acknowledging your presence, but then her mouth opens. “I can’t believe you actually left the house for this.”

There were a thousand sentences you were hoping to hear her say and the one she chose is nowhere on it. It does nothing except remind you of all the infuriating reasons why you can’t be around her anymore.

“Gee thanks, don’t sound too excited.”

She merely shrugs, acting like she can’t see the way your smile drops. “Just being honest.”

At some point in your relationship, you would have made fun of her for sounding so much like the characters she loves to play on TV but today, her attitude pisses you off like nothing else.

“Honest, huh?” You scoff. “That's gold coming from the cheater.”

There’s a flash of something in her eyes, mostly annoyance, and you know damn well that’s exactly what you’re looking for. A sign that she’s still human despite how much she loves to pretend like she doesn’t have feelings anymore.

Unfortunately, you’re sure her reaction has more to do with the fact that you’re in a room full of people who could overhear you than anything else.

“Oh, come on. I didn't cheat on you,” she says in the exact same tone as all the times before.

“Right, right, you just casually had dinner with your new boyfriend while we were still dating.”

A crack begins to form in her facade but you’re too annoyed to celebrate.

All she does is groan before placing her drink down on the bar and coming toward you. She wraps her hand around your arm, seemingly unaware of the sparks her touch ignites, and drags you toward the first secluded area she finds.

“Are we seriously going to have this fight again?” She questions you once you’re away from prying eyes.

“Sure,” you reply. “The only thing we ever do is fight.”

“Stop acting like I’m the only one in the wrong here. We both made mistakes.”

You scoff. “You’re right, I trusted you wholeheartedly. What a stupid mistake.”

“Oh my God.” She throws her hands up, frustration dripping out of her every pore, and yet she makes no move to walk away from you. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Changing isn’t always such a good thing. Just ask Martini and Brando, I bet they love the weather in Buffalo.”

It’s another cheap shot and you know it. Most of all, you see it. The flash of hurt that lingers in the eyes you know so well.

“Don’t,” she warns.

You can’t stop yourself from adding more fuel to the fire despite her warning. “Why? Is that more honesty than you can handle?”

“y/n, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re right, I don’t know. Because I have no idea who you are anymore.”

It suddenly strikes you that you’ve had the same exact conversation with her before. You don’t know why you keep doing the same thing and hoping for a different ending. Especially considering Hailee is the most stubborn person you’ve ever met.

“You’re not the only one,” she says with a sigh, practically deflating in front of your eyes. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only person I’ve disappointed lately.”

“No offense but that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said in a while.”

A small chuckle escapes her and the sound instantly brings you back to simpler times. To spontaneous dates at the beach, random car drives to the middle of nowhere to watch the sunset, sleepless nights spent helping her rehearse for an early morning shoot the next day.

To being in love.

Back when your love actually mattered.

“Do you ever regret it?” You find yourself whispering into the space between you after a long silence. “Regret us?”

Her answer might split you in two but you're tired of the desperation that clings to you from the sheer amount of unsaid things that still linger in your mind.

“No,” she replies, her voice so quiet you almost miss it. “I regret how things ended, I regret what I did to you…do you?”

You shake your head before you can stop yourself, the truth spilling out of you just as fast as the tears that painted your face the day she left. “I regret…how much I love you…how impossible it is for me to hate you.”

For a split second, you catch sight of the Hailee you once fell in love with. The one with warm eyes and the softest smile imaginable. The one who could easily break your walls down with a single chuckle.

“Give it a few days,” she replies. “It’ll stop being so impossible.”

It’s ridiculous how enamored her words make you. It’s also stupid and infuriating that no matter how badly you want to walk away from her, you can’t find a way to make your feet move. You’re stuck and that growing smirk on her face tells you she knows exactly how much you’re struggling.

“No witty comeback?” She questions, her head tilting slightly to the side in an almost mocking gesture.

“I’m just trying to decide if I should slap you or not.” Your words hold no real bite to them, even if you wish they did, and you both have to pretend neither of you notice the way you lean toward her.

Her eyes betray her as they slide down your face until they reach your lips. Her gaze rests there for longer than would be appropriate for an exchange between old friends. But you’re not old friends. You’re something more. Something that exceeds categories and reasons.

Something that rests completely in the space between your mouths.

It should be easy to turn away from her…but it isn’t…and you can’t stop yourself from meeting her half-way when she leans in close enough for you to feel her breath on your lips.

It’s a mistake.

But it’s one you make as easily as falling in loving her.

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