#I’m stoned and thinking about my boyfriend (I miss him)
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This was technically the first time Reagan met Chip
#silly :)#that’s Reagan’s roomate#they’re names Tuesday they’re my best friend Tuesdays BCG sona I made them make#chipgan#chipgan lore: this is the first time reagan saw Chip but Chip had already seen Reagan at this point#he saw them on wholesome foods cctv footage shoplifting#modern day Carmen Sandiego they were……#this is inspired by that one post that’s like a google review of Whole Foods that’s like#‘hypnotically Caucasian…very easy to steal from…another one of gods little tests’#sorry i’m rambling#I’m stoned and thinking about my boyfriend (I miss him)
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lost n found
summary - you are lost in italy the night before your wedding
pairing: fiancé!harry x reader
word count: ~2k
You were definitely lost.
Drunk and lost.
To: harry - im so sor:(y
From: harry - Baby, you’re fine❤️ Drop me your location and I’ll come find you. Please don’t move xx
To: harry - okaY.i love you xox
So currently you were sat on a stone wall, somewhere on a random side street in a small Italian village, waiting for your boyfriend to come and pick you up.
Harry had gone out with a few of his closest guy friends for drinks, for one last night as an unmarried man.
You and your girls had gone out for drinks too and you had mentioned to the boys that you would catch them up later.
At some point during the evening, though, you and the girls had all gone to the beach and you had gone to the toilet. It had been a trek to find one, only when you tried to find your way back you took so many drunken wrong turns that you couldn’t tell your legs from rights now.
Reading a map was useless, but sending Harry messages wasn’t.
You originally hadn’t wanted to send him any messages, not wanting to ruin his last night a “free” man but at some point you had become a little too lost to care.
Swinging your legs as you sat on the wall, you watched the birds fly overhead amongst the clear blue sky. You detailed all the cracks in the old buildings and counted twelve windows on one wall alone.
Your brain was fuzzy and your eyes kept on wanting to close from tiredness. You would be blaming a lot of your girl friends tomorrow for the continuous passing of shots your way.
Your phone rang in your hand.
“Yeah?” You answered, not even checking the caller ID.
“Baby? Love? Can y’hear me?” Harry asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re not where y’said you’d be.” Harry sounded stressed.
“N-no I am. I sent you my location a-and I haven’t moved.”
You stood up and could feel yourself starting to panic. If Harry didn’t know where you were then there was no way of you knowing. Harry wasn’t ever a big enough drinker to get really drunk, unlike you.
You only ever got drunk when you felt you were in a safe environment, like tonight had been surrounded by all your closest girl friends. Or always with Harry.
Now that you didn’t have anyone and you were still drunk, you were getting anxiety of being alone and intoxicated.
Cue to shaky hands and tears.
“Are y’sure baby?”
“Y-yes. Fuck me. You’re not going to find me. Fuck. I don’t – shit – I.. I’m…”
“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby. Woah, slow down for me, okay? I am coming for you, okay? I just.. It was my mistake and I just need to relocate myself. You’re okay.”
Your phone was shaky in your hands and you started twisting your body around, as if expecting some random creepy guy to come around the corner and take advantage of you.
The twisting didn’t help your head, though, and was making you feel increasingly dizzy and sick.
“Y/N?” Harry asked urgently and you wondered whether you’d missed something he said.
“I-I’m scared.” You honestly said, backing yourself against a wall and trying to let the cool stone calm you down.
Your tears will no doubt have ruined your minimal makeup by now, not that that was a main priority of yours right now.
“Honey, you’re okay. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”
Harry sounded like he was running.
His voice sounded a little breathy and you could hear the fast movement of wind through the speakerphone.
“Y/N, love, turn on your data.” Harry said.
“I ran out.” You banged your head back against the wall, not even thinking about the pain that just caused.
You whimpered as you sank down onto the floor, knees tucked close to your chest and arm wrapped around your legs. Your phone was still to your ear, with Harry’s voice being the only sane thing in this moment.
“Okay, okay.” Harry muttered to himself rather than you. More running sounded from Harry’s end of the phone. “Baby, y’still there?”
“Mm.”
Your mind travelled to many worst case scenarios and due to how bad they were your panic only increased.
This was supposed to be your last nights as an unmarried couple and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d ruined that. He must’ve been having such a good night.
You’d seen a couple of photos on his private Instagram story and other people’s Instagram stories. Your fiancé looked divine. He just looked so perfect that it was difficult to believe that he had chosen you and you got to call him yours.
It did make you nearly cry that he was thinking of you, via Instagram, though.
“You feeling okay, baby?” Harry asked.
“Don’t know. I’m so sorry, Harry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not angry or upset. Just want to make sure you’re okay, my love.”
“Okay.”
“So you have to be brave for me, okay?”
“Yes, okay.”
You got stuck for a moment, trying to think of possible ways you could calm yourself down and distract yourself. Luckily, Harry was already one step ahead.
“Hey, baby?” He grabbed your attention.
“Yeah.”
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
You couldn’t help but let the smile take over your face. You weren’t scared at all for tomorrow. You had no nervous jitters. All you felt was love in your heart for your husband to be.
“We are.”
“And you’re going to look so beautiful.”
“So are you.”
“I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress. I bet it looks so pretty.”
You sniffled, building back your strength and overcoming your anxiety. A lot of your strength came from the love you hold for Harry.
You heard a noise from your left and looked to see a cat rustling through some litter.
Your heart deflated when you realised it wasn’t Harry. You knew he was coming though. He was on his way and he would not stop running until he found you.
It was almost like a bad scene out of a romance movie.
The night before your wedding and something terrible goes wrong. It’s a sign!
“I think it’s just perfectly me.” You said, talking about your wedding dress.
“Sounds perfect to me then.” Harry paused for a moment. “Baby, did you walk under an archway, like, uh, a stone archway covered in pink flowers?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t remember.” You ran a stressed hand over your forehead.
“Okay. That’s okay.”
“Everyone’s going to be so mad at me.” You began getting frustrated with yourself. “Fuck.” You breathed in a sob and exhaled with a bigger breath.
“Promise you no one’s mad, baby. Gem has messaged me a thousand times asking if you’re okay. I can’t even answer ‘cause this bloody maps apps is a fucking nuisance. I swear to–”
“Harry?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up from your knees to check your phone. He was still on the line. “Hello?”
“Y/N!” Harry shouted your name, but not from down the phone.
You could see Harry walking over to you very quickly, clearly panting from having run street after street.
“H.” You dropped your phone and cried as you saw him faster approach you.
Definitely a moment worthy of a romcom.
Harry was probably living his Ryan Gosling dreams.
“Baby, hey. I’m here. You’re okay.” Harry sank down to the floor and scooped his arms around you, pulling you close and squeezing oh so tight.
He sank down to his bum and leaned against the wall, pulling your entirely onto his lap. Too close wasn’t an option right now.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sat sideways on his lap. Your face was tucked under his chin and his head rested on top of yours. You cried as Harry held you tight.
You couldn’t see Harry’s facial expressions but he was breathing out sighs of relief, some tears in his own eyes from the adrenaline of trying to find you. He had been just as scared as you, but had to remain strong for you. Now he had you he could let it all out.
“You’re never going to the toilet alone again.” Harry laughed. You laughed back.
“Deal.”
“That was scary.” Harry kind of mumbled, but you heard him anyways. He kissed your head a few times and you melted at the feel.
“Harry.”
“Yeah, love?”
“My head is so dizzy.”
Harry used a hand to tilt your head up so he could see your face. He noticed your mascara ridden face first of all, but beneath that you were all beauty.
“Tequila is only our friend for two rounds, remember?” He laughed at you. He was able to tell from your eyes that you weren’t exceedingly drunk, but definitely tipsy.
“I did not remember.”
He nuzzled his nose against yours as he shook his head with a grin. “You’re such a handful, you.”
“M’sorry.” You pouted.
“Never said I didn’t love you as a handful.”
“Do you? Love me a handful?” You used a hand to stroke over his cheek that had gotten so scruffy with the stubble he was trying to grow.
“‘Course. Love you every way and anyway. Love you so much. Love you until my body literally decomposes my wedding ring off my finger, and then some more.”
“That was dark, even for a 2AM drunk thought.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Harry chuckled, noticing that smile on your face becoming more and more permanent.
“But I’ll love you for the same.” You promised.
Harry kissed you then, not wasting another moment of this evening away from you. Well, morning now. His lips were soft against yours and you smiled into the kiss, happy that he was here with you even if it was under really weird circumstances.
“Let’s go, trouble. We’ll go back to the hotel and I’ll kiss you all night.”
“Don’t you want to spend the rest of your night with the boys? You know, last night as a free man?” Even though you were suggesting this, all you actually wanted to do was kiss, kiss and kiss him.
“Free man?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows with disgust, “What are you talking about?”
“You know? People say the last night before they get married is their last chance to be free?”
“Why would I need to be free when I’ve got you? I’m choosing you, like I always have. Never needed to be free.”
You smiled warmly at him. “I’m shackling you to me for life.”
“Too right you are, baby. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Now, take me home, trouble.” You giggled.
“Oh. So I’m the trouble now?”
liked by gemmastyles and 682,928 others
yourinstagram tomorrow i get your last name forever <3 p.s. i would like to state that harry bought himself that tshirt :)
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harryfan1 oh to be y/n l/n
jeffezoff Where did you two go?
harryfan2 moustacherry fans rrIISEEEEE
harryfan3 wish my bf supported me with tshirts like that
jamescorden Tequila anyone?
harrystyles I am planning on wearing that tshirt tomorrow.
yourinstagram @/harrystyles the tshirt but nothing else please
gemmastyles @/jamescorden They aren’t coming back for tequila….
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles italy#harry styles mustache#harry styles fic#finelinevogue fic#harry styles fiance#harry styles boyfriend
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LOW
“whatever you want, don’t call me”
“I need you to get the fuck out of my space”
“I’m fuckin, I ain’t making love no more”
chris smut/angst (first angst y’all), FOR THE CHALLENGE @annamcdonalds67 + THANK YOU FOR 1800?!?! WTF THERE’S 1800 OF THE FREAKS
toxic ex!dom!chris • poc!reader friendly
contains: oral (female!receiving), missionary, kinda angsty, pet names, no use of y/n
word count: 1.4k
proofread
Booty calls, all the fucking time, does he never think a bitch is tired? He broke up with me two weeks ago just to fuck some lame ass blonde bitch that he was texting while we were dating. In his defence ‘It’s not cheating if I broke up with you before I even fucked her’. What type of fuckboy shit is that?
It’s the 6th call from a 3rd No Caller ID and I’ve had about enough of it, I shut off my phone leaving my device to charge on my bedside table.
I raced down my stairs, pulling down my shorts because my thighs were rubbing. I turned on the tv to take my mind off but I heard a ping from my iPad.
Shaye⛽️
how you been holding up bae
Give me a fucking break. I just get out of a relationship and she’s too busy trying to scissor me?
My stud-plug texted me for the millionth time of the week, can people get out my phone and mind their own business? I guess that’s my fault for telling her about my situation with my now ex-boyfriend, we were getting high and I got off topic or whatever. I debated on blocking her knowing that I can’t, cause as much as I display my tits to a store owner they weren’t going to sell kush to someone ‘underage’.
I was in need to disconnect from everyone by turning off my iPad rolling my eyes while grabbing an energy drink from the fridge.
In time, I got back on my phone having nothing better to do as I had already developed a headache. I scrolled through instagram being unamused by everything until Jana sent me a photo of a random girl. ‘I found her’, I knew I could count on her. When I first saw the blonde bitch on my ex boyfriend’s camera roll I sent the photo to myself then sent it to Jana to do her investigation skills.
I searched her profile and saw a bunch of bikini photos, picture of flowers and photos of herself. What does she have that I don’t? Cause she most definitely does not have these curves. I brushed it off and called it his loss because at the end of the day, he’s the one blowing my phone up.
Unknown
I need to talk to you
Don’t block me
I’m coming over
Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?
I checked that the text was sent 28 minutes ago and I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I ran to the door holding the doorknob when he was unlocking the door. “I swear to— OPEN THE DOOR!”
“You better fucking leave!”
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR” He pushed the door with force sending me almost flying. He shut the door locking it behind him as I rushed to the kitchen shaking my head “I can’t believe this shits happening right now” I cursed under my breath.
“Did you miss me” His lips curled into a smile looking down at my ass before I turned around and caught him. “It seems more like you miss me, blowing up my phone and showing up at my door?” Our eyes were locked and tense along with the air in the room.
“I’m not sucking your dick.” Chris scoffed, walking towards me “so you’re gonna ride me?” I pushed him away the folding my arms looking at him with a ‘are you fucking serious’ face.
Unbe-fucking-lieveable.
“Go get that flat corny ass blonde bitch to ride your small dick” He raised his eyebrows being taken aback from my remark “that’s a new low for you ma, you know that’s not true—and I don’t want her, I want you” I laughed. I laughed hard in his face making him scrunch his face.
“You realised she didn't have what I got?” I continued to laugh “that’s what happens when you don’t appreciate what you have”. Fuck face. Chris clenched his jaw drawing a deep breath in before gripping my wrist, taking me behind the kitchen counter.
“Bend over” He ordered I sternly looked at him with a stone face “tell me that you want me to leave”. Chris stopped his actions waiting on my response. The healing part of me wants him to leave but I honestly want him to put on me, and good so I stayed quiet. “Bend over. Now” I let Chris spin me around and arch my back across the counter.
Chris yanked off my shorts, spanking my ass leaving a stinging sensation, then kneading it to ease the pain. He leaned over to my ear “you’re so beautiful mama” I slightly smiled at his compliment as he snaked his hand into my panties, rubbing my clit and feeling my wetness “this is the last i’m fucking you” he chuckled with cockiness.
“Get up on the counter baby, I wanna eat you out” I immediately climbed onto the counter, lying on my back and the cold granite sending shivers down my spine. The brunette pulled my thong to the side while he was going on his knees, inserting his tongue between my folds making me gasp.
The warmth of Chris’ tongue on my cunt made my back arch and he sucked on my clit. My eyes flutters close from all the pleasure and Chris twisted his tongue in pussy, cleaning up all my juices in one lick “I can’t get enough of you, can’t believe I let this pussy go” he began to push a finger deep into my cunt “Fuckkkk—” My moans dragged out from between my lips as I felt my climax.
I gripped on his brunette locks waving my hip towards his face while he placed wet kisses on clit. I gasped loudly as Chris sloppily licked off all liquids while they came out “such a sweet pussy that cums just for me” he kissed my inner thighs, the spots darkening.
Chris pulled me off the counter, carrying my naked body to my room, laying me on the bed with my legs spread open. He slid his tip across my wet, sensitive slit, coating the head of cock with my wetness.
Pressing his tip to my hole, he groaned entering my tight pussy. “You’re so tightttt” I tensed up the more his inches entered my cunt. Did he get bigger? My eyes began to water as I felt his cock hit my tensed walls “relax mama” his hand was on my stomach feeling for dick that’s creating a little poke. I took a deep breath, exhale trying to stop tensing as he began to thrust into me.
Hands gripping on my hips, small moans escaped my lips, feeling his length abuse my walls with every thrust becoming harder than the last. Chris lowered himself for lips to kiss neck then in the crevice where his forehead was on my pillow making our bodies collide.
I opened my eyes with Chris’ hair laid on my cheek realizing this was the closest me and him have ever been and kind of scared of it but he started to kiss my jaw as if he could tell what I was thinking “c’mon baby”
My walls tightened around his cock making it harder for him to ram into me. Instead he hit in a different angle hitting my g-spot “please Christopher, right there” I placed my nails on his back, scratching it up while doing. My breathes were laboured with the rush of my orgasm was about to come and his thrusts got sloppy up until I came and he did also inside of me
“Fuck baby” post-nut clarity hit me while Chris leaned in to kiss me and I shoved him away by his chest “get out” I said quiet but loud enough for him to hear “what do you mean—” he looked at me lost and confused “I mean get the fuck out my bed Chris”. I got out the bed naked picking up his discarded clothing from the floor of my bedroom.
“We can work this out baby you know this” He put on his jeans buttoning them up before looking up at my bare body “GET THE FUCK OUT MY HOUSE CHRISTOPHER, YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE” Chris backed up as I pointed to my door collecting the rest of his shit before leaving.
Worst ex, but great sex
tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thesturniolos @junnnilieee07
#Spotify#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#hoesformatt#riyahspeaks#fan fiction#fan fic#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#smut
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Party of Three | C.S, J.WY
AO3 Link | Masterlist
Summary: Things take an unexpected turn when Wooyoung walks in on you and San.
Pairing: Choi San x F!Reader x Jung Wooyoung
Genre: Hidden feelings, threesome, smut
Word Count: 5.3k
Warning(s): Alcohol & drug use, sex under the influence
A/N: This fic is the most well-liked among readers on my AO3. The writing may not be up to my current standard as I first posted this in 2019, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
Everyone is already stoned by the time you show up at San and Seonghwa's apartment. The former is the one to open the door, greeting you with red eyes and a lazy smile.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greets. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Before you can respond, you're slammed with the familiar smell of weed that wafts out into the hallway after him. Greedy to get started, you give your boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek and push past him into the kitchen, avoiding his grabby hands with skilled ease.
You throw your bag down onto the counter and then make a beeline for the fridge, desperate for some sort of alcohol after the stressful week of final exams you've just gone through. Grabbing a beer, you sit on one of the kitchen stools and give the room a once over.
Jongho, Yeosang, and Yunho are sat on the floor playing Mario Kart as Mingi sits behind them on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. It seems like he's pretending to be some sort of referee based on how every once in a while he shouts random things like, "Oh, come on, Yunho! Don't you know how to drift?!" You smile at his antics—you've missed this.
Meanwhile, the other couple of the group is squished into one armchair, Hongjoong's legs draped over Seonghwa's lap. Hongjoong's eyes flutter open and closed and Seonghwa chuckles, lovingly watching his boyfriend struggle to stay awake. As always, a stoned Hongjoong is a sleepy Hongjoong.
You go to turn back to San—thinking that you've seen everyone—when a silhouette on the balcony catches your eye. You’re overtaken with surprise when you recognize it to be Wooyoung, taking a hit from San's prized glass pipe. He hadn’t come to one of these get-togethers in a while, ever since he broke up with his girlfriend. Actually, now that you think about it, he hadn’t been here that much even when they were still dating.
He spots you and he smiles, his eyes turning into crescent moons from pure happiness. After shoving the pipe into Seonghwa's waiting hands, he jogs over and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You laugh and give him a hug, ecstatic that he seems like the Wooyoung you used to know. He was always touchy when stoned, but he had been holding himself back because his ex didn’t like him showing affection to anyone other than her.
“Thank god that bitch is gone,” you say, squeezing him one last time before letting go. “I missed this Wooyoung, the real Wooyoung.” You pause before adding, “My best friend, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung runs a hand through his black hair, laughing. “Yeah, me too. I’m glad to be back.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Mingi shouts from his place on the couch.
Of course, Wooyoung agrees instantly. You roll your eyes; he’s a fiend when it comes to alcohol of any kind. “Hell yeah! Let’s do shots.”
Wooyoung jogs over to the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of vodka. You shiver involuntarily; you and Smirnoff have a dark history. As he begins to pour the gasoline into shot glasses, he shoots you a questioning look.
You shake your head. "No. Hell no. No shots for me."
Despite your greatest efforts at resisting, Wooyoung's puppy eyes and Mingi's pouting (those two are unstoppable when they team up) manages to convince you and, half an hour later, you're three shots in. Yunho tries to pass you another one and you grimace, slapping his hand away. He looks offended and cradles the shot to his chest as if it spilling would have been the greatest tragedy of the modern age.
"We don't waste alcohol in this household, Y/N," he explains.
You can't help but roll your eyes. "Right, of course. Anyway," you look to where San is, leaning on the railing of the balcony with his pipe in hand, "I'm gonna go join my boyfriend and get stoned. Alcohol tastes like shit, I can only handle so much."
You practically skip to the balcony, excited to spend some one-on-one time with your boyfriend. It's been nice hanging out with the whole group but all you want right now is to be in San's arms. So, you decide to do exactly that. You bend down slightly and crawl right in between them, letting yourself be caged between his body and the railing. He doesn't get surprised and you let out a sigh of relief, grateful that he's been smoking for a few hours already. You're positive that if he was more sober he would've flinched and the glass pipe would have fallen out of his hand and down twenty-five feet onto the concrete below.
He smiles when he sees you, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his oh-so-precious dimples making an appearance. Leaning down, he captures your lips in a kiss. Smoke fills your mouth and your eyes widen in surprise; you didn't notice him take a hit. He pulls away and you exhale, letting the smoke evaporate into the night air. You cough slightly and he smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead.
"Sorry, angel. I couldn't help myself."
The pet name makes you clench your thighs and San notices, eyes darkening. He knows exactly what the effect is of him saying that and you know he did it on purpose.
Fighting away the blush attempting its way onto your cheeks, you take the pipe from his hand, inhaling. You let the smoke enter your lungs, relishing in the familiar burning feeling. On your exhale, you say, "It's fine, just warn me next time."
Just as you take another hit, Seonghwa peeks his head out past the balcony door. "Hey, Joong and I are tapping out for the night."
San raises an eyebrow. "You mean he's still conscious?"
Chuckling, Seonghwa responds, "Let me rephrase. Hongjoong has passed the fuck out, so I'm taking him to my room to lay him down."
"Typical Joong," you say with a laugh. "He's fun for the first hour or so, and then he just gets tired." You always get stuck looking after a hungover Hongjoong while Seonghwa goes to work and you have a feeling tomorrow morning won't be any different.
Seonghwa nods, agreeing. With a half-wave, he turns to go back inside but suddenly stops, casting you and San one last look. "Oh, also—if you guys are gonna fuck tonight, can you try to be quiet? I have work tomorrow and wanna get a few hours of sleep in so my hangover doesn’t completely decimate me."
You blush and bury your face in San's chest, embarrassed. "Hwa! Can you not?"
Normally, San would be just as embarrassed as you, but not tonight. Without batting an eye, he says, "Alright, we'll try."
You pull back from him and gently swat on his arm. "San!"
He looks at you curiously. "What?" He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you taught against him and leans down to press his forehead against yours. "You want me to lie and tell him that I'm not planning to make a mess of you ton—"
"On that note, I'll take my leave," Seonghwa interrupts, disappearing back into the apartment.
"Oh my god." You pat your cheeks, forcing your blush to die down. "I always forget how much... bolder you get when you're high."
San leans down, placing a soft kiss on your neck. The gesture sends an electric shock throughout the rest of your body, causing your hair to practically stand on end. "Don't pretend you don't love it," he whispers, the heat from his breath ghosting against your skin.
"I don't—"
He cuts you off by taking your chin in between two of his slender fingers and forcing you to look up at him. "No lying, angel."
As if on autopilot, you respond, "Okay, Sir."
The second you close your mouth, you know that you've just set something in motion. You can see the change in San happen, something inside of him switching into gear. He's always had two sides to him—your soft, romantic boyfriend and then the rougher, more possessive side of him that comes out when you call him by that name.
Placing the pipe down on a table, he grabs you by your wrist and drags you inside past all the stragglers left in the living area. Yunho wolf whistles and Mingi and Jongho laugh quietly amongst themselves. Wooyoung, on the other hand, watches the two of you with an expression you can’t quite place.
"You two have fun now," Mingi jokes. Then, addressing the others, says, "Time for us to leave unless you wanna hear them going at it."
Leaving them to their own devices, San brings you to his bedroom. The second the door closes he has you pressed against it, capturing your lips with his own. You press yourself into him, letting out a content hum against his mouth. In this position he towers over you, his frame completely enveloping your own. You don't feel nervous or scared, though; in fact, it turns you on.
You hook your fingers under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against your palms. He helps you out, pulling away from you for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere across the room. His lips are back on yours within the next second, as if your mouth is a magnet for his own. You run your hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles tensing under his skin. Just having his skin bared to you is already enough to get you moaning; you need more of him and you need it now.
You pull away from his lips to get some air. In between gasps, you manage to say, "Bed, now."
Your wish is his command. He lifts you up, biceps bulging, and gently places you on the bed. He hovers over top of you, messily leaving open kisses against your skin. You moan, giving into the sensation. It's been so long since you've had him like this and the buzz from the drugs is only making everything so much better.
"Wait." San raises an eyebrow as you crawl out from underneath him, hopping over to his desk. You open the top drawer and rummage around until you find exactly what you're looking for—a freshly made blunt. Picking that up and a lighter, you turn back to your boyfriend with a mischievous look in your eyes.
He smirks, leaning against the pillows. "I like the way you think."
Strolling back over to him, you get on the bed and throw one leg over his lap, straddling it. You give him the blunt and the lighter and, as he ignites it, you take off your shirt to give him a good view of your breasts. You hadn't worn a bra today, knowing that he loves when you don't. He almost chokes on the smoke as his eyes drink in your form, so greedy for a taste.
San's about to take another hit when the door to his bedroom opens. You cover yourself, panicking until you see exactly who's standing there—Wooyoung.
"Woo...?" You murmur, the syllable dropping off into a question.
He closes the door behind him and steps into the room. "Can I... Let me join you."
San chuckles. "I knew this would happen eventually."
You furrow your eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"Woo has always had a thing for you. He told me a while ago. It's part of the reason he broke up with his ex, besides the fact that she was also a major bitch."
"Is that true, Wooyoung? Do you like me?" you ask, uncovering your breasts. His eyes instantly fall to them and he gulps.
"Yes."
You're sure that his honesty and what you do next is partly because of the drugs and alcohol swimming in your system.
"Alright. Join us."
Wooyoung moves forward, shedding his shirt as he does so, before crawling onto the bed next to you. He takes the blunt San holds out for him, plump lips forming a delectable "o" as he inhales. You watch him with hooded eyes, imaging those lips leaving a trail of blooming marks down your body, between your legs... You'd be lying if you said you'd never thought of this prior to tonight. You lean forward and kiss him and, for the second time that night, smoke transfers into your mouth from another's. This time, however, you're more than ready for it. You close your eyes in ecstasy, french inhaling as you slowly rock your hips against San's crotch, relishing in the groan he releases. You can feel him hardening through his jeans and you instinctively clench, already so desperate to have him—someone—inside of you.
Letting the blunt hang haphazardly out of his lips, Wooyoung grabs your waist and helps you move against San who occasionally lifts his hips, adding to the delectable friction that's making you whine.
Smoke starts to fill the room, making everything hazy. With every inhale, the smell of it invades your senses. You love it more than anything—it makes you feel like you’re floating. You reach over and pluck the blunt from Wooyoung's lips, taking another hit. Leaning down, you kiss San this time, biting his lip. Once he gives you access, you push the smoke into his mouth with your tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans, letting the smoke evaporate into the air. “It’s so much hotter when you do it to me.”
Placing the blunt into San's mouth, you reach down and unbutton your pants, managing to slip them off of your legs without even having to get off of him. With one less layer of clothing separating you, the friction of his tented jeans rubbing against your core is that much stronger. You throw your head back, sporadically rubbing yourself against him.
He reaches up and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your nipple in between his fingers. “My angel is needy, huh?” he murmurs, smoke coming out of his mouth along with the words. You whine, nodding. “Alright then. Let me take care of you.” As an afterthought, he looks to Wooyoung who is currently palming himself through his jeans. "Actually, why don't we have Woo do it? I'm sure he's been dreaming about how you taste."
Before you can blink, San places the blunt in the ashtray on the side of his bed and flips you around so that your back is pulled taut against his chest. He nods at Wooyoung who gulps, moving forward and lowering down so that he's lying on the bed between your legs. You're certain that, at this point, your arousal has begun to leak through the fabric of your panties and the way his dark eyes take in the sight makes you squirm in anticipation.
San laughs, placing a sweet kiss against your temple. "Be patient."
Wooyoung begins to lightly trace patterns on your stomach as San attaches his plush lips to your neck, licking and sucking at the skin. The sounds you’re making are absolutely lewd, yet barely anything has even been done to you. Wooyoung leaves a hickey above the lace trim of your panties before hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down, revealing your soaking cunt.
He kisses the inside of your thigh once, twice, before finally licking a strip up your core. Your entire body shudders and you arch your back instinctively. Your ass grinds against San's crotch and he groans, digging his fingers into your sides to keep you still. Your thighs close around Wooyoung's head yet he doesn't seem to have a care in the world, eating you out painfully slowly as if he is savoring every taste. You whine and squirm, fingers and toes searching for purchase within the sheets.
"Please, please, please," you gasp in between ragged breaths.
Wooyoung pauses, mouth hovering right above where you need him most. His breath is enough to make you clench, desperate for anything and everything.
"Please what, angel?" San asks. "Use your words."
"Please let me come."
Wooyoung kisses you right above your clit and you practically scream, tears welling up in your eyes. You're never like this, never this needy or this sensitive—it has to be the weed in your system. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.
"Please who?" San's voice is deep, demanding.
Your voice is faint, barely a whisper. "Please, Sir."
He looks towards Wooyoung who is still hovering between your legs, lips glistening with your juices. "What do you think, Woo? Should we give her what she wants?"
Wooyoung pushes his hair back off of his forehead, sweat droplets falling onto the mattress below. "I know I'm more than willing to follow through."
San laughs, his chest reverberating against your back. "I'm sure you are. In that case, go for it; see if you can make her come as hard as I can."
Wooyoung takes on the challenge. His mouth attaches to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. When he adds a finger, plunging it into your dripping core, you scream his name.
"Fuck, Wooyoung!"
Your hand tangles in his dark hair and you can't help but pull, too lost in your own lust to hold onto any semblance of thought. Wooyoung doesn't seem to mind, though. If anything, it turns him on knowing that you're so far gone.
"Come on, baby," San whispers, hot breath dancing across your ear. "Come for us. Show me how good Wooyoung is making you feel."
Wooyoung adds a second finger and before you know it, you're seeing stars. A blinding wave of heat and pleasure overtakes you and you're shaking but, God, it feels so, so good. Wooyoung guides you through your orgasm with soft, gentle licks against your swollen pussy as San whispers words of praise against your skin. When you come back down from your high, you register the feeling of tears on your cheeks.
Wooyoung, finally satisfied, crawls up to lie beside you on the bed. He chuckles softly when he sees the state you're in and kisses away the wetness on your cheeks with a smile.
"It was so good that you cried, hm? You're so cute." Then, turning to San, he smirks. "You ever make her come like that?"
San rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. Don't get ahead of yourself."
At this point, you can barely find the strength to form a proper sentence but still, you grab onto one of San's biceps, fingernails digging into his tanned skin.
"Why don't you show him?"
San's eyes widen ever so slightly. "Are you sure you can handle it right now?"
You nod fervently. "Yes, God yes."
San still looks hesitant so you take initiative, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to your own. You kiss him with everything you have, hoping it expresses your wanton need for him. Against his lips, you murmur, "I want you. I want you inside of me, please."
"Fuck, angel..." He groans and closes his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly. "You have no idea what you do to me."
After shimmying out of his pants and the boxers underneath, he reaches behind Wooyoung and searches around in the drawer next to his bed, pulling out a condom. He carefully rips it open and, after blowing into it, begins to roll it down his shaft. He moans at the friction and you frown, realizing how little attention you've given him. Shooing his hand away, you take over, rolling it all the way down to the base. He buries his face in your neck, groaning every time you move. You continue to stroke him, bringing your hand up to the tip of his cock before twisting your wrist and moving back down. He doesn't let you continue your ministrations for long, grabbing your arm and forcing you to stop.
"I'm close," he explains, sweat pooling at his brow, "And I would much rather be inside of you right now."
You smile and peck him on the lips. "Okay, I'm ready."
With your consent, he lifts you up and sits you on his cock, pushing past your walls. He stills with a gasp. "Fuck, you're so wet. Wooyoung did a good job of getting you ready for me, didn't he?" You nod and he begins to thrust, making you fall forward and lean against his chest for support. "You always take my cock so well, don't you? It's like you were made for me."
You let out a strangled moan, the praise combined with his actions sending shockwaves straight to your core. You came not so long ago and already you can feel your pleasure coiling once again. "Fuck, yes, I'm yours," you say.
Wooyoung, neglected, takes action and moves forward, tucking a finger under your chin and tilting your head, forcing you to look at him instead of San. "Y/N... kiss me."
You lean forward, stopping a breath away from his lips. "Sir," you whisper, "Can I?"
San shudders as you clench around his cock. "Go for it."
At his word, you capture Wooyoung's lips with your own. The first thing you notice is that you can still taste yourself on him; the second thing is how passionately he responds to you and how eagerly he returns your affection. He tangles his hand in your hair, tugging slightly on the strands. You moan at the sensation, nipping at his lips in the process.
San snaps his hips, slamming into you at a menacing pace that has your thighs shaking from the force of it. You gasp and, unable to keep kissing, grab at Wooyoung wherever you can, searching for support. Your hands find purchase on his biceps and you dig your nails into his skin, too lost in your pleasure to be gentle. However, Wooyoung doesn't seem to mind—in fact, the slight pain causes him to moan.
You can tell San is close by the way his breathing is getting heavier and his thrusts are getting sloppier. You clench around him and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning.
"Fuck, baby, oh my God—"
"Sir, I want to come with you," you whine, throwing the nickname in there because you know it will help bring him to the edge.
He kisses you and brings a hand to your clit, furiously rubbing it with the pads of his two fingers. "Okay," he pants, "Come with me, angel. Come with me."
The coil building in your abdomen comes undone once he snaps his hips at an angle that hits that one spot inside of you and you impulsively lean forward, biting onto Wooyoung's shoulder to muffle your loud moaning. The spasms of your walls against his cock have San following after you mere seconds later and he eases you off of him, letting you fall to your back against the mattress below.
San places a loving kiss against your temple and turns to Wooyoung, who at some point had taken off his own jeans, freeing his swollen cock. "Woo, come here," he commands, crooking his finger. You frown, realizing that Wooyoung has gone the longest without being touched; how unfair. You reach out a hand, willing to help relieve him, but San stops you. "No, you rest. I'll take care of him."
You watch with wide eyes as your boyfriend goes slack-jawed and takes Wooyoung's leaking cock into his mouth, allowing the other boy to fuck his throat. He sucks him off with the ease of someone who has done it multiple times before, knowing when to move and when to still, when to use his tongue and when to not. Saliva begins to dribble out of the corners of his lips and his eyes tear, but you can tell he's eager to help Wooyoung reach his end what with the way his hands are supportively rubbing the other's thick thighs. If you weren't so exhausted, you think you might have come again just from the sight of it.
It doesn't take long for Wooyoung to come with how long he's been holding off and San takes all of it, swallowing and gently pulling off of him. Wooyoung collapses against the headboard, chest heaving. After catching his breath, he looks at you and smiles.
"Well... this was fun, huh?"
You can't help but laugh, so blown away by the turn this night has taken. "Fun is just one of the words I would use, I think."
Wooyoung reaches out, carefully pushing your hair off of your forehead and the loving action reminds you of a question you had wanted to ask earlier.
"Woo?"
"Hm?"
"How long have you wanted this?"
His ears turn red and you can tell that the question embarrasses him, but he answers anyway. "Since before you and Sannie started dating."
"Wait... back in high school?" He nods. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I was scared," he admits. "You and I had—have—been best friends for so long and I didn't wanna risk ruining that by acting on my feelings. Then I introduced you to Sannie and, well... the rest is history." You punch him on the arm and he whines. "What was that for?!"
"You idiot! I liked you too."
"You... what?" His complexion pales as the information sinks in. "Fuck."
San, silent until now, wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards him, kissing your cheek. "Y/N... do you still like Woo?"
"I..." You pause, startled. "Is this a trick question?"
He laughs. "No, it's not. And there's no wrong answer. Just be honest with me, baby."
"M-maybe." Your voice is small, tentative; telling your boyfriend you have feelings for your mutual best friend isn't something you ever saw yourself doing.
"What if I said I did too?" San asks.
Your jaw drops and you search his face for any signs that he's joking, but he looks completely serious. "Really?"
San nods. He gestures for Wooyoung to come closer and he does, scooting forward so that he's sitting right next to you. He rests a hand on your bare thigh, gently caressing the skin there and calming your nerves.
"Yeah. I like both you and Wooyoung and you like both of us, right?" You nod. "What would you think about making this a normal thing?"
"Like... the three of us all being in a relationship?" you ask.
Wooyoung shrugs. "We don't have to have any sort of label. This is just something we can try out. If it doesn't work, that's okay too. I won't mind."
You take a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. Then, you realize something. “Wait… Did you guys plan this whole thing out?” San and Wooyoung share a guilty look and you laugh, shaking your head exasperatedly. “God, what am I getting myself into?”
Wooyoung’s eyes light up. “So you’re willing to try?”
You nod. “Yeah, I am."
"Great!" San kisses your nose and gets up, discarding the used condom into the trash can underneath his desk. He slips on a pair of sweatpants and goes out the door to presumably get some things from the bathroom, but of course not before throwing the two of you a dimpled smile and assuring that he'll be right back.
He returns shortly, opening the door with one hand as he holds two washcloths and some lotion in the other. He closes it with his foot and practically jumps on the bed, eager to not keep you or Wooyoung waiting any longer. Gingerly, he wipes away with your sweat, starting with what's on your face and not stopping until you are fully refreshed. Then, as he hums under his breath, he squeezes some lotion onto his hands and begins to gently massage you, helping to loosen up any tension and soreness you might feel. He saves your abused core for last, making sure to be extra gentle.
You watch with a content smile as he smothers you in aftercare, letting yourself just sit back and soak in every second of it. You used to feel guilty when he did this, feeling bad you weren't doing anything in return, but he's assured you so many times that he enjoys it and wouldn't do it if he didn't want to that you can't help but just selfishly enjoy it now.
Not wanting Wooyoung to feel left out, he makes sure to give him the same routine. Wooyoung is hesitant at first like you used to be but, before long, he's practically purring. Once San is done, he slides into bed behind you and covers your scantily clad bodies with the previously discarded blanket. Instantly, you slide closer towards him so that your back is against his chest and he sighs contentedly, resting his chin on the crown of your head. Wooyoung turns to face you and San, forehead almost touching your own, and you kiss him, making him laugh.
"I can't believe this is real," he admits.
You smile. "Me neither. It's weird, but it's nice."
San hums in agreement, already drifting off.
"I love you," you say softly, chest aching with just how much you mean those words. "Both of you."
"I love you more," San responds. Just like always.
"I love you, too." The same words Wooyoung has always said, but now with a different meaning.
It's nice, you think, having two people to wish you goodnight.
The following morning, you're the one who wakes up first. Wooyoung is the first thing you see, mouth slightly parted and hair a complete mess. You smile, finding it endearing. San's grip around your waist is tight but you manage to slip out of his hold, getting out of bed and throwing on a pair of underwear and a t-shirt. You open the door and quietly make your way to the kitchen, hoping that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still asleep. You don't hear any commotion and you let out a relieved breath, glad that you don't have to deal with the embarrassment of facing anyone after—
"Good morning," Seonghwa says, peering up at you over the rim of his coffee mug. You freeze, watching as he takes a sip and then places it down on the counter in front of him.
"Oh, um, hey. Hope we didn't, uh..."
"Keep me up? No, not at all. Not like for a second I thought you were getting murdered from how loud you were screaming or anything like that."
Your entire body seems to burn from the force of your blush. "Fuck. Sorry, Hwa."
"Whatever, it's fine. But, I have to ask... Is that Wooyoung's shirt?"
Looking down, you see that you are most definitely wearing that shirt Wooyoung had on the night before. "Yeah, I... We, um..."
It's at this point that both Wooyoung and San emerge from the bedroom, San still clad only in his sweatpants and Wooyoung in a pair of boxers. San instantly puts his arm around your waist and lovingly pecks your cheek, and Wooyoung smacks your ass as he walks by to get to the coffee pot.
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow as he watches the scene play out. "You know what? This weirdly makes a lot of sense." Getting up and putting his now empty coffee mug into the sink, he adds, "Anyway, I'm headed out. You three think you're up for another party tonight?"
Your mind travels back to last night and what incredible things the party led to so, without missing a beat, you respond, "Oh, God yes."
Seonghwa laughs. "Cool. See ya later, Y/N."
The door closes with a slam behind him and you hear a groan come from the hallway behind you. You take a look around the bend to see a very, very hungover looking Hongjoong hobbling his way out of Seonghwa's room. You smile and share a look with Wooyoung and San, shaking your head. Looks like your prediction was right—you're gonna be stuck taking care of him after all.
#san x reader#choi san x reader#wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung x reader#woosan x reader#woosan smut#choi san smut#choi san imagines#wooyoung smut#ateez smut#ateez imagines#jung wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung imagines#wooyoung imagines#ateez fic#my fic
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Hi super sorry if your request aren’t open.
I had this thought about Zuko x waterbending reader and maybe they could be related to Hama (like a grandma or something) and r basically it’s difficult to explain but Zuko and reader started dating after the war and he tries really hard to get Hamas approval because he’s from the fire nation and Hama ends up sorta accepting him but is still hella weary about him
‘Dinner’- Zuko x female!reader
An: HIYA! So as to not be annoying I’m leaving my lil disappearance explanation at the bottom, enjoy 🫶
(As usual, thank you for your request and patience it means a lot 💕)
Warnings: fighting/agression but it’s brief dw (this is also a very short piece)
You smiled as a candle flickered in your room, kicking your feet as you read a letter your boyfriend, Zuko, wrote to you. He detailed in it his most recent endeavours as a fire lord, as well as affirmed that he could in fact come for a visit. You had been planning to move to his palace soon, as per his request, but he was afraid your grandmother, Hama, a ruthless fire nation hating blood bender who might just hate Zuko, would not be on board. You decided the easiest way was to have them both over for food, and you’d prepared a huge feast of different delicacies of both nations. Zuko was meant to arrive in about an hour, and Hama was already down stairs washing up. She vaguely knew you were going to introduce her to someone, just not entirely aware of who. You shoved the scroll into another backpack you packed for your move, which was supposed to take place a week from now if all goes well.
You walked over to the window sill and sat on a cushion you placed on the protruding wooden part, sighing. You wandered in an endless maze of thoughts, until a face appeared in front of you. You squeaked, almost falling backwards but you caught yourself. Shaking your head, you unlocked the window and pulled zuko in.
“Dude?” You questioned, pulling him in for a hug.
He smelled like the sea, you noted, originally expecting the smell of a certain beast on him.
“Sorry- I got nervous,” you giggled, pinching his pouty cheeks.
He grinned, dipping you into a passionate kiss that screamed ‘I miss you’ in every language. His hand trailed to your back, and yours his hair. Just as things began to escalate, the door swung open.
“YN!”
Immediately, you pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards. Both your eyes landed on your grandma, who was as pale as a ghost.
“I can explain!”
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
Zuko was frozen, from the long list of things that could've gone wrong, this did not even make the top one hundred list.
“Grandma, this is Zuko,” you calmed down, “My boyfriend,”
He snapped out of his trance and extended an arm to shake with her. She walked out, leaving a small stone to prevent the door from closing again.
“Sorry about her,” you groaned, embarrassed that she left him hanging.
He retreated his arm, shoving it into his pocket, “She already thinks I suck. It’s over.”
“It’s okay she’s easy to win over,” you smiled sweetly, contrasting the lies that currently fled your lips.
Stiff, awkward, weird… all of the above.
You couldn’t relax for this dinner, things were so tense after what just happened. He didn’t even get to say hello before she saw his tongue down your throat and now she probably is a hair away from blood bending him into a ball. And he could tell she hated him- when he asked you to pass him a spoon she threw it at him. She missed…
“So, why don’t you tell her about yourself Zuko,” you broke the silence.
His eyes widened, suddenly being put on the spot, “Well I-uh-um-“ he coughed.
“He helped the avatar end a hundred year war,” you chimed in.
“Yeah so he can start a 200 year war all on his own,” she remarked, glaring at him. “All fire folks are the same,”
“Gram, give him a chance, he’s trying his best,” you held his hand over the table, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles.
Suddenly, a fork came hurling at you, and when you both dodged your hands away, you found it embedded in the table.
“Right…” you breathed out.
She stood up abruptly, folding her arms, “Yn, come outside, now,”
“Yes ma’am,” you replied, looking back at Zuko with a worried expression.
You shut the creaky wooden door behind you and adjusted your garments as you stood by here on the patio.
“A fire nation boy?”
“He’s different… he’s not what you think he is,”
“That’s what they all say Yn, he’s bad news.”
“What about him is bad news?”
“Everything. Especially the fact that he’s a ticking time bomb.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Are you forgetting his past? He attacked the avatar!” Your eyes widened, “That’s right, I did my research… I know every little thing he did and so help me if you dare leave this house with him I will make sure that’s the last time either of you see each other.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Who’s gonna stop me?”
Your eyes brimmed with tears- it was one thing to ban you from seeing him, but a completely other thing to treat you like a child. You were old enough to make these decisions on your own. You huffed, storming back inside and waltzing into your bedroom, slamming the door with a lot of force.
Hama sat back down at the table, smiling before she flipped it onto Zuko. He gasped, standing up quickly to avoid being crushed. She stomped around the table and got up in his face, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong for her ancient age.
“What do you want from her?”
“To be with her,”
“Why?”
“Because I love her,”
“WHY?”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?”
She pushed him onto the ground, lifting her arm as if about to bloodbend him. He’d heard the tales of what she was capable of from his friends, and he felt his heart drop.
Zuko froze, waiting, shielding himself and closing his eyes.
“Aren’t you gonna firebend?” She asked, a bitter sounding tone.
“No.”
Just then, you exited your room, finally having collected your bearings. There, you found Zuko almost curled up on himself, and Hama glaring at him. He breathed heavily, and she looked as if a blood vessel was about to pop. You immediately rushed to his side, helping him up to his feet and checking him for wounds. He was fine of course.
Your hand brushed against his cheek and he closed his eyes, humming, “I’m fine,”
“What did you do?” You yelled, looking at the old lady.
“I tested him.”
You laughed sarcastically, “And did he pass,”
“With flying colours,” 2 out of 3 pairs of eyebrows flew upwards, you and Zuko exchanged glances. “For now,”
After a bit of cleaning up, you finished the night with Zuko in your bedroom, sitting at your desk.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, leaning against the table.
“If she doesn’t even want me near you, how on Earth are you going to move in with me?”
“That’s… that’s a great question.”
An: OKAY SO idek where to start I basically obv got back to school and I had exams and then even MORE EXAMS coming up (send help) BUUUT I mainly just lost my spark and interest in writing but it feels wrong to continue to ignore my inbox so I’m gonna try my best to clear it soon. If you have requested I’m genuinely so so sorry it’s taken this long I’m sure you’re mad at me but hopefully not too mad don’t hate me okay bye love you 🩷
#atla#atla zuko#avatar the last airbender#avatar zuko#fluff#prince zuko#prince zuko x reader#zuko#zuko angst#zuko atla#zuko x you#zuko x f!reader#zuko x fem!reader#zuko x y/n#zukoxreader#zuko x reader
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I’m sorry FIANCÉ??? Did I miss something are congratulations in order??
🥹☺️ Yesssss babes fiancé!!! Oops i guess i should have made a little post because it’s been almost the whole month dhdjd I think we’ve been caught up in enjoying the excitement of it but YES my lovely, wonderful boyfriend who I have known since we were about 9 years old proposed to me on my birthday!
We had already had my birthday cake and i was distracted just mingling with some friends we invited over for my party and I didn’t know until later but he had his brother sneak in another cake through the backyard and it said “Will you marry me?” but I was so excited about more cake like okay someone brought another cake just for me to have? YAY! I full on didn’t even register what the icing said until he was kneeling down and I was like OH MY GOD! 🥹💕
He made it so sweet and special I think I gasped and went omg omg and then started crying a little and then almost burned myself cause I rushed to hug him after saying yes and the candle on the cake was still lit lmaooo but we blew it out together and I got to celebrate the rest of the night with my family and friends there it was sO great
And since I’m utterly obsessed with it, here’s the ring! He customized it to have pink stones because I love pink so much and he had the inside of the actual band engraved I could cryyy, it’s beautiful and I am so happy every second I get to wear it!
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The Interview — Matty Healy
18+! MDNI!!!!!! Explicit!!!
Okay so I've never written fanfic or smut before so this could be ass but I just love jealousy sex & the idea of being on a red carpet so...
CW: smut, choking, dom/sub dynamics, dom!matty, sub!reader, use of y/n, alcohol usage, jealous!matty, possessive!matty, established relationship, thigh riding, i think that's it?? lmk if i missed anything
WC: ~3k
Ok I hope y'all like it ENJOY!!
The Interview.
The cameras are almost blinding as you stare out into the crowd of photographers shouting your name, trying to get the best angle for whatever publication they’re working for. Being a top executive at Sony Music meant you mostly worked behind the scenes; out of the spotlight. However, seeing as 18 artists on your label (five of which you yourself handpicked) were up for awards tonight, you couldn’t not show up to The Grammys. Besides, it felt good to dress up once in a while, especially if that meant wearing custom Chanel.
Continuing down the red carpet, you’re stopped by a reporter for Rolling Stone, Bryan Wilson. From the few brief interactions you’ve had with him at industry parties and the stories that have circulated about him, you know the guy’s a sleaze. But, given that there’s a Canon XF605 pointed directly in your face when he asks if you have time for a short interview, you smile sweetly and comply.
“You look stunning tonight, as always, Y/N”, he begins, in typical sleazy reporter fashion, “Can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing?” His eyes travel down the expanse of your body, grazing (quite slowly, to be frank) over the daring V-cut of your gown.
You couldn’t really blame him for checking you out, you did look incredible in this dress. Layers of black satin expertly draped over your body created an elegant but sexy silhouette complete with a plunging neckline and a timeless backless design. You knew you looked good, you didn’t need Wilson eye-fucking you to tell.
“Isn’t this The Rolling Stone?” You giggle in response, half-joking, “Shouldn’t you be asking me about Sony Records and leave the fashion questions to Vogue?” To the untrained ear, your tone is light-hearted and sincere, however, there’s an intended edge you’re hoping is coming through.
If he was picking up on the edge, he wasn’t showing it. Wilson continues on checking you out, responding “We hear about Sony Records enough, but it’s a treat to see the woman behind the magic,” he looks directly into the camera and gestures to your body, “especially when the woman looks like this!” He looks at you now, “Why don’t you give us a spin, Y/N?”
You clench your jaw into a tight smile, “You know, I’d really rather talk about the artists up for awards tonight. It’s a record-breaking night for my company, and I’m extremely proud to be here…” You’re trying your best to refocus the conversation on the real reason you’re on the red carpet tonight, but Wilson’s wandering eyes are making it difficult for you to focus on anything.
Finally feeling fed up, you clear your throat, “Sorry, Bryan, am I boring you?”
He breaks out of his stare from your chest and goes red. “Oh! No, I’m sorry I was just… looking at your necklace!” He gestures to the Tiffany & Co. pendant that hangs (conveniently for him) right between your boobs.
“Stunning, innit?” You hear your boyfriend say from behind you as he comes up and possessively wraps his arm around your waist on camera in a way that will definitely be circulating Twitter tomorrow. “Just bought it for her yesterday when I first got to see the dress.” Matty grips your right hip so tight that the satin puckers under his fingertips. You get a feeling he’s been watching this “interview” from afar.
“A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman, indeed,” Wilson so boldly responds, either not noticing or not caring that Matty was already quite irritated.
With that final comment, Matty grips your hip even tighter, “Right, then,” he says shortly, “Cheers, mate!” He yells over his shoulder while quickly ushering you away from the train wreck of a media appearance.
“I’m gonna kill that guy,” he leans down to quietly whisper in your ear as the two of you make your way into the venue, “Staring at you like a piece of meat live on camera, isn’t he embarrassed?”
“It’s really not a big deal, baby,” you try to reassure him. And to you, it wasn’t, really, compared to some of the other harassment and objectification you’ve experienced in such a male-dominated industry, “He’s just some stupid reporter,”
“Yeah some stupid reporter who doesn’t know how to keep his stupid fucking eyes away from what’s mine,” he growls under his breath.
You grow a bit warm at your boyfriend’s possessive words and decide to push him a little further. “So what, people aren’t allowed to look at me now? We’re kind of on a red carpet if you haven’t realized,”
Matty rolls his eyes as the two of you take your seats at your assigned table. “You know what I mean,” he scoots a bit closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “People can look at you all they want, but these,” he trails his hand up your torso, palming your left tit and slightly grazing its nipple through your dress with his thumb. You gasp. “These are mine, and you know that.” he says lowly into your ear.
This was going to be a long night.
—
Seven wins, two acceptance speeches, and a few too many bottles of champagne later, the ceremony was coming to an end. You were so proud of your artists, even those who hadn’t won tonight.
To your (and your aching feet’s) misfortune, your boyfriend was insistent on “making an appearance” at the afterparty, to “touch base with some important blokes”. You weren’t thrilled about the ordeal, but you had a nice buzz going from the free champagne earlier and figured a gin and tonic to top off the night wouldn’t hurt anyone. Boy were you wrong.
You were standing by the bar by yourself, watching Matty “touch base” with the aforementioned “blokes”. Nursing your second gin and tonic, you wonder how much longer their conversation will take, and when you can finally go home (and take your boyfriend to bed). As your mind indulges your fantasies of being fucked to sleep later, you hear an annoying and familiar voice from behind you.
“It breaks my heart to see such a gorgeous woman drinking alone,” no one other than Bryan Wilson saunters up beside you at the bar, “Where’s your man? You think he’d be smarter than to leave such precious goods unattended…” he slurs to you, obviously a few more deep than you were at this point in the night.
As Wilson drunkenly gets too close to you, you turn back to where Matty was talking to see him staring holes into the man’s skull, clenching and unclenching his fists. Your nearing-on-past-tipsy mind flashes back to your boyfriend’s words earlier, and his reaction to the reporter’s initial efforts towards you. You consider your options: 1) tell Wilson to fuck off and continue being bored by yourself at the bar, or 2) play this up a bit, make Matty jealous, have some fun, and probably go home early. Your sixth drink of the night tells you option two is far more enticing, and you agree.
You lean into Wilson a bit, closing some of the distance you were intentionally making. “Ever the flatterer, Bryan,” you lean back and give him a once-over, “I’m shocked that you’re still single, a handsome guy like you with such a smooth mouth on him.”
“It’s intentional baby,” he puts a hand on your arm - uh oh. “Why would I tie down this smooth mouth to one lucky lady? There’s plenty enough to go around…” and just as you think he’s about to make a move you feel a bruising grip on your upper arm tearing you away. Away from Bryan Wilson, away from the bar, away from the party.
You get your bearings and find yourself in a secluded hallway outside the party with your very angry, very sexy boyfriend staring you in the face. “What the fuck was that?” He spits at you, fuming.
“What was what?” You respond, looking up at Matty with your best doe eyes.
He cages your body in between his own and the wall of the hallway, “Don’t play stupid with me now, things can only get worse for you from here, pet.” As you look up at your very jealous partner, and feel the energy radiating off of him, you think to yourself that things can probably only get better.
You maintain your look of faux-innocence as you reply in your sweetest voice “Baby I was just talking to-“
“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Matty growls as he grabs your throat and pushes you harder into the wall behind you. “You were letting that perv practically fuck you in front of everybody here. Making everyone think you’re anything but mine.” He pushes his hips into yours to punctuate the word, and you can feel how hard he is. Oh dear. Maybe it’s time to drop the act.
“I’m sorry, you were just taking so long talking to those guys, and I was getting so impatient and needy for you,” You bat your eyelashes in an attempt to seduce your way out of undoubtedly being fucked silly in some corner of this hotel right now. “I just want you to take me home, baby,” You run your hands down his chest, the way you know he likes.
Matty scoffs at this. “Aw, my poor little slut can’t wait longer than an hour for me to take her home and fuck her?” You feel a heat pool at your center from his words and absolute condescension. His hand around your neck comes up to grip your jaw, holding your head so that you can’t look anywhere but his eyes. “So fucking pathetic. Having to whore yourself around in public so that I can give you some attention? Trying to embarrass me in front of all our colleagues meanwhile, the only thing embarrassing is how stupid you look letting that scumbag put his hands on you,”
He holds your face an inch away from his own, his eyes searching for a response in yours. “I think you may need to be reminded just who you belong to.” He says darkly. And with that, he’s dragging you again, this time into the bathroom at the other end of the hallway.
As soon as the door closes he has you pressed up against it face-first. He wastes no time undoing the back of your dress, practically ripping it off of your body. You hope he doesn’t do any damage to the new gown, but to be honest, you’re not sure you care in this moment either way. Upon removing the dress, your boyfriend can see that you’ve forgone any undergarments (half because of the dress itself, half because you knew it would drive him crazy - which it does).
“Oh my fucking god,” he practically moans when he sees your now naked form pressed up against the door for him. “You’ve been ready for me all night, haven’t you princess?” He whispers in your ear, pressing himself to your back, slightly grinding into your bare ass. You squirm with his words and the minimal stimulation he provides.
“Well let’s just take a look,” He reaches his hand around from where he’s standing and drags a finger through your soaking folds agonizingly slowly. Your breath hitches. “Oh my poor girl,” he tuts, “how long have you been soaking through your dress baby?” He resumes his teasing, touching everywhere that isn’t your clit or your entrance. You whine and push your hips back in protest.
Matty grabs you by your waist and holds you in place against the door. “I think I asked you a question, slut.” He barks. You only grow wetter at his words and his toying.
“Since-“ you start, but you’re cut off by a moan when he takes his free hand to pull on your left nipple. His teasing is almost overwhelming, and you’re not sure you even remember the question the way your head is clouded with lust and need.
You’re pulled out of your hazy state by a hard slap to your pussy, “Since what? Huh? I haven’t even taken my cock out and you’re already fucked dumb. Answer me. How long have you been this wet?” He asks again, rolling your nipple between his fingers while inching closer and closer to your entrance with his calloused hand.
“Since you were grabbing my hips on the red carpet,” you manage to stutter out “during the interview.”
With that answer, he removes both of his hands from you. You put your hands up to brace yourself from slamming into the door from your newfound loss of support. Matty laughs darkly.
“So that’s what this is about, huh angel?” He grabs you by your hips, spinning to face him and pushing you even harder into the door behind you, “you like it when I get riled up, so I’ll treat you like the whore that you are?”
You look up at him with your glazed-over eyes and nod dumbly.
“Well here’s the problem with that,” Matty begins sucking on your neck harshly, no doubt leaving bruises, “You… are… my… whore… no… one… else’s…” he punctuates every word by leaving a new mark on your chest with his mouth. He takes a step back, admiring his handiwork. “Gorgeous,” he mutters as he admires your now hickey-covered tits, “you should really see this baby.”
Matty leads you over to the sink of the bathroom, turning you around to see your naked and marked-up form in the mirror. Looking at the new marks on your chest, you realize that he’s left them in the distinct pattern of your dress’s neckline, meaning there’s no hiding them. No hiding the fact that you’re his. You squeeze your thighs together at the thought.
Leaning over your shoulder in the mirror, you watch as your boyfriend trails his hand down your body to the place you need him most. Unsurprisingly, though, he doesn’t touch you, he simply ghosts his hand over the outside of your now sopping heat. You press yourself into him.
“Please, baby,” you whine, making your best puppy eyes in the mirror at him. “Please, I need you to touch me.” You’re so desperate he doesn’t even need to ask you to beg.
“Do you think you deserve to be touched?” He responds, continuing his teasing, “You’ve been quite a bad girl tonight, baby. And bad girls don’t get what they want.”
“I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg even more, tears forming at your eyes with the desperation he’s built in you.
“Prove it,” Matty responds, trailing his hand up to your mouth. You gladly take his digits in, watching as he toys with you and stretches you out, wishing he would do that in other places. You hear the clinking of his belt, and you perk up, thinking that maybe he’s just going to put you out of your horny misery and fuck you already, but of course he’s not.
“Can’t have you getting yourself all over my nice trousers now can we love?” He says as he pulls his pants down to his ankles. You watch still with all four of his fingers in your mouth as he takes his newly naked thigh and roughly slots it in between your legs from behind. Your eyes roll back at the much-needed friction it provides. Matty leans in, “Right then. Be a good girl and ride my thigh, hm? You’re gonna have to get yourself off before I believe you after tonight’s theatrics.”
Embarrassing as it may be, you are in no condition to care in this moment. You immediately start feverishly fucking your boyfriend’s thigh, moaning around his fingers at the friction you’ve been needing all night, a ball already forming in the pit of your stomach. Not more than a second after your head falls forward in relief, your boyfriend grabs you by your hair to force you to look in the mirror, “Nuh-uh” he growls, “You’re gonna watch while you fuck yourself on my thigh. You’re gonna see just how pathetic you are, crying with relief and coming undone when I’ve not even touched you.”
Matty’s words and the sight of him and you in the mirror add to the very quickly growing warmth in your body. Your skin is on fire as you grip the sink in front of you, trying to use whatever leverage you can to get yourself off faster. You take one hand to start kneading your tits, playing with your nipples, hoping some added stimulation will help; you whine at the new sensation.
“There you go princess, that’s it,” he coos in your ear, “so good f’me, taking directions so well baby.”
The praise goes straight to your core and you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Matty can tell by your breathing that you’re close, so he grabs you by your hips to help you, moving you back and forth on his thigh, assisting in your rhythm. “Come on my thigh,” he demands in your ear; and you do. That white-hot pleasure you’ve been chasing since you saw your boyfriend on the red carpet this afternoon finally washes over you. But it’s not enough.
Matty takes his fingers out of your mouth but keeps you firm against him. As you come down from your high, you look at him in the mirror desperately. Your orgasm was, well, an orgasm, but you know it could be so much better if he would just fuck you.
“Matty please,” You whine, still making sweet eye contact, “Baby, I need more.”
Matty nods his head in the direction of the door. “Put your dress on, love,” You think you might cry, until he whispers in your ear, “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”
---------
Ahh!! Should I write a pt. two when the couple gets home?? Thank y'all for reading my first smut omfg I can't believe I did this...
#matty healy#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#matty healy x oc#matty healy blurb#matty healy oneshot#matty healy fluff#matty x reader#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy fic#matty healy x fem reader#matty healy x fem!reader#the 1975 smut#dom!matty#sub!reader#jealous!matty#possessive!matty
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Hoping I haven’t missed the requests closing 🙏if so pls ignore!
I’m humbly asking for a fluffy Gaz x reader and reader meeting price bc I’ll die on the hill of Price and Gaz having a father/son relationship. And Gaz being so nervous on what price thinks? Brownie points if Price teases him! I love Gaz sm and I wanna smooch him on the forehead!!
Shaky Fingers
PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: The perfect date night begins with a stolen wallet and a goose chase.
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
WARNINGS: None, just fluff
A/N: Switched some stuff around so it's more of the 141 as a whole, but it's still pretty much the same, enjoy Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You think Gaz was about ready to call the whole night off.
Laughing, you shake your head and walk over to Kyle after flattening out your dress with fast hands. The apartment bedroom was ripe with the scent of cologne and perfume; the floor lamp was on and you had just finished placing a luxurious necklace over your neck. The twinkling stone blinks like a white eye in the low light.
“Dear,” you chuckle deeply to your boyfriend of three years as his head is in his hands. Gaz sits on the bed, dejected. “It’s alright, I can pay for supper—it’s really not that big of a deal.”
“Bloody thing,” He groans, his tux wrinkled from the frantic patting he’d done to his pockets a few minutes prior. “I swear, Love, it was right in my pocket near noon!”
“Kyle,” stopping in front of him, you grab at his wrists, peeling his hands away from his handsome face. Grumpy eyes lock on yours but soften as you send an easy, reassuring, smile his way; the lines on his forehead fall from a harsh line to a squiggly suggestion on the page that is his face. He sighs. “It’s okay.”
Chuffing at the absurdity, your tone is a bit teasing.
“You’re acting like I don’t have a job, too,” Kyle grumbles at this, and his oval face shifts in a play of exaggerated exasperation.
“I’m not making you pay for our anniversary dinner, I’d never be able to sleep at night.” He says, and he captures your hands in his own, holding them together and bringing them to his lips for a delicate kiss. You tilt your head and watch, face heating.
“So you can run into active warzones and get covered in all sorts of fluids but you can’t handle letting your girlfriend pay for food? Kyle, you sound ridiculous.” Leaning forward, you lay a smooch on his forehead and feel his body jerk out chuckles.
“Never said I didn’t like the idea,” Brown eyes lower in a small jab. A joke making his lips pull up in a smirk. “It’s called being a gentleman, Love.”
“A gentleman that loses his wallet, apparently. Not very soldier-like, Sergeant Garrick.” Your eyelids crinkle as you grin, firing back just as fast as Gaz blinks, brought back to the dilemma that was pushing back your departure for the restaurant down in the city. A pointedly expensive restaurant.
“It was right on me! I swear, this has never happened before.”
You shrug, straightening up to full height and tugging at Kyle’s dress shirt; prompting him to stand up so you can straighten his tie. He does so without complaint, and your fingers spread over fine silk.
“I’m gutted. We can’t go until I find it. I’m not even that worried about my money—it’s my damn ID that’s draggin’ me by the arse.” You glance up at him, humming, before pulling at the neck of his shirt and setting the tie comfortably under. Kyle’s grip goes to rest on your waist and you slightly melt into his chest more.
“Base ID?” Your voice mutters out in question.
“Yeah, that’s the bloody one. Price’ll kill me if he finds I’ve lost it. Fuckin’ hell.” Sighing deeply, you sag into him, your chin going to rest on his collarbone so you can look up at him with a tiny glimmer of understanding.
Gaz’s jaw was tight with worry, brows drawn in and those two tiny scars on his left cheek pulled stiff. His stubble brushed your nose as he angled his head down to stare into your eyes when your grip traveled to wrap around his waist loosely. He huffs and kisses your nose bridge.
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I’m ruining the night with all this talk. We should be out already, shouldn’t we?” You’re already frowning at him, pinching his side as he grunts in surprise and stifles a boyish laugh.
“Quit that,” you say, “this is just as important. Do you remember where you last put it?”
You’d never been to Kyle’s work before—that is, the military base where he’s stationed at. He doesn’t really have a workplace per se, just a temporary office and barracks room if he needed it. The Sergeant is off across the world more often than not.
“I haven’t got a clue,” Kyle’s voice goes low but his chest rises with gratification at the genuine care you show to him over something as silly as this. Heat rises to his cheeks when your fingers run back and forth over his back—his own hands tighten around you, keeping you close. “I knew I had it at lunch. I went out and got you those flowers from that floral shop that you like—I had to use my ID to get back on Base.”
Those very flowers were sitting in a vase on your vanity, bright and vibrant. You’d swooned when Kyle had gotten back to the apartment with them.
“Alright,” your eyes stare off into your boyfriend’s brown orbs, focussing deeply. Gaz sees your nose scrunch in thought and he smiles widely, chuckling and lightly beginning to sway the two of you back and forth to unseen music. “Lunch,” you mutter, barely noticing.
“Don’t strain yourself, now,” Kyle teases.
“Hush,” Scolding, you fake a scowl and feel him rest his forehead on yours. His hair tickles your flesh and you giggle. Heart pounding, Gaz listens to you speak as if caught in a trap of his own making, gaze exceptionally soft and breathing secondary to the way your mouth curls into a smile; how your beauty ensnares him in your otherworldly glow. “Anything else, Dear?”
“Hm,” Blinking out of his love-struck gaze, Kyle thinks deeply—straining his mind. A memory sparks and a flame burns in his gut. His expression flips as the air sparks. “MacTavish…oh, that fucker’s dead.”
You make a noise of confusion as Gaz starts rambling, pulling back from you and beelining for the keys on the nightside table. Face open and soft with shock, you stutter a small laugh when the man darts back and grabs you by the shoulders; angling you to the bedroom door and to the foyer.
“Gaz?” You chuckle endearingly at his annoyed face, his lips pulled tight, and his eyes narrow on nothing as he releases you. He bends down and snatches your heels, turning and bending a knee with a groan.
“Bastard. I knew he would get to me eventually, Love, it was only a matter of time.”
“‘Get to you?’” Amusement makes you place a hand over your lips before a loud snort can escape your lungs. “Kyle, what are you on about?”
His nimble fingers loop the buckle of the heels over your ankle, pulling to a comfortable tightness as he cradles your calf. Brown eyes glance up at you with deep seriousness.
“Soap…I told you about him, yeah?” you nod and carefully place your foot back down; letting Gaz pick up the other and slip your foot into the expensive material. The smile never leaves your face as the calloused hands scrape your flesh. Kyle huffs out a scoff. “He’s been pulling all of our legs for weeks—got to some of the recruits first but it bled over to One-Four-One. Didn’t think he’d fuck with me so soon; would have prepared otherwise.”
“The Scottish one?” You stand fully on your two feet and grab your coat from the hook and slip it over your shoulders, glancing at Gaz as he puts on his own shoes. You go over and kiss the top of his head in thanks for the assistance with your own. “So you were pranked?”
“When he bumped into me,” your boyfriend explains, and you’re being carefully corralled out the door with your arm resting in the crook of his elbow; you grip the nice fabric of his suit and listen with rapt attention and a toothy smile. “I thought he’d just wanted to hurry on to the pub—I didn’t think much of his grab at my waist as anything more than to keep him steady. Mate stole my fucking wallet.”
He says it so aghast that you giggle and see him blink, expression turning cheeky.
“What?” Gaz looks over at you with a raised brow and a smirk. “Look at that beautiful smile—you think this is funny, Love? You are just wicked, you are.”
“I think it’s hilarious,” your body leans into his heavily; pulling his body heat into yours and making you all toasty as you gaze at him with love. “Are we going on a mission, Sergeant?”
Gaz stares with a vast haze of affection and pleasure, “Damn right we are.” An arm wraps around your waist and squeezes your flesh—your face goes warm. “We’re trackin’ down a shit-faced Scot on our anniversary. Bloody brilliant if you ask me. You have my six?”
“Well,” you sigh with enjoyment, not at all angry or annoyed at the strained dinner reservation. Brown eyes crinkle at you. “It’ll be good to finally meet who you work with.” Your lips widen, “I’d be honored.”
“Christ, let’s just hope he has it on him.”
—
Gaz huffs as he pushes open the front door to the pub, and you take in the scent of tobacco and alcohol. With a muttered thanks to your boyfriend as he holds open the barrier for you, you slip inside and the smell only increases to a violent level. You blink around the old-style wood and decor, surprised with how much you enjoy the drunken cheeks and dim light atmosphere. Like a wave that goes in and out, your ears ring from music playing out a jukebox in the far corner.
“This way, then,” Kyle sighs loudly, and you see his eyes have already locked into three men at the bar top. A loud roar of laughter accompanies the both of you as you head over to who you assumed were his coworkers.
You glance down at your expensive attire and then at Gaz’s and stifle a loud laugh at the stares you’re getting. The two of you are comically overdressed.
“MacTavish!” Your boyfriend calls eyes exasperated if not a bit annoyed. When all of the individuals at the bar turn to look at the two of you. “Want to explain why my wallet’s not in my fucking pant pocket right now?”
You figure out who he’s talking to when the man with a strong face and a mohawk bursts out into chest-jerking laughter after a second of pure silence. His pale hands slap the table where his multiple empty shot glasses rattle against one another.
“Oh, hell,” yep, Scottish. Gaz glowers next to you with a stiff frown until you elbow his side. He glances down and rolls his eyes as you chuckle—his arm going over your shoulders.
“Fuckin’ not again—What’s he done?” The gravel in the bearded man’s tone took you aback for a moment, such a low and grating voice laced with a firm authority. A black beanie was on top of his brown hair, and tiny orbs colored like the sea turned to stare.
They blink in slight surprise when they find you, curiously shifting the lines present.
“Johnny, what the fuck?” A shrouded man grumbles, a face mask sitting comfortably over most of his expression and a hood up over his head. Blueish-gray eyes blink in your direction before their numbness shifts back to the wheezing Scot.
“Ah, Christ, I’m sorry,” Johnny gasps, clearly drunk by the flush to his skin. You spare a look with Gaz and can’t help the amused twitch of your brow. “Didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give it back to ya!”
“Stole my bloody wallet is what he’s done,” Kyle mutters to the man with a beard, who you assumed to be his Captain only by the atmosphere surrounding him. “We’re late for dinner.”
“Kyle, I told you it’s alright,” your hand goes to pinch his cheek before his face heats up so much you feel it from your fingers. Eyes shifting, you address the three with a smile. “Such a worrier this one,” you huff and introduce yourself by name, “...it’s a pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s all ours, Sweetheart,” the Captain grunts, raising his nearly empty glass into the air in greeting. “Good to finally put a face to a name. John Price. John’s all well and good.” He motions to the masked man. “Ghost.”
You send a nod and a grin the large and intimidating Brit’s way. All he does is stare before blinking slowly.
“Soap,” Kyle levels, shifting away from you and walking closer to the Scot with a loosely motioning hand, “C’mon, Mate, you’re piss-faced—hand it over.”
“Does he always do this?” You ask easily to Price and Ghost as the other two go at it like teens.
John shares an amused glance with you and grunts out a low chuckle. “Not always, told him to tone it down ‘fore he gets Disciplinary.”
Ghost huffs in agreement, scratching at his arm.
“Like tellin’ a fuckin’ dog not to go after a bone.” You snort, looking back at your boyfriend as he begins patting down a limp and slurring Soap like airport security.
“Seems you two have got your hands full. I know Kyle isn’t above poking fun, either.”
“Waitin’ for them to burn each other out, Love,” John utters, and you share a cheeky smile with him.
You enjoyed how easy it was to converse with the man—especially the one that was in charge of your boyfriend while he was away. It puts you at ease to finally meet all of them... no matter how shit-faced.
“Aha!” Gaz’s form rips out the body of his leather wallet with a shout of victory. Soap grumbles, rubbing at his face with the heel of his palm.
“If I’d known you were takin’ your bonnie girl out I’d have taken your tags instead.”
“Well look at that, so considerate,” Kyle chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re demented, Mate.”
“Ah, that’s just the top of it, eh?” You chuckle at the Scot’s comment, pulling out your phone from your jacket pocket and checking the time.
“Can we still make it?” Kyle asks, jogging back up to you as you click your tongue; turning the screen and showing him with a smirk.
“Think they’ll forgive a fifteen-minute absence?” Your boyfriend slowly deflates and your face softens at the sight of his sagging shoulders. John sighs long at his seat and stands; slapping a hand on Kyle’s shoulder and lightly placing one on yours.
Gaz looks up at him in surprise.
“Well, that’s proper bad luck,” the Captain starts, face serious and tiny eyes narrowed, “say what, then, the two of you pick what you want and Soap’ll cover the cost for the night.” Ghost huffs a dull bark of a laugh from his seat. You’re not even sure Johnny heard it above him tipping back another shot.
You and Kyle share a glance before twin smirks form on both of your faces.
“Can…you do that, Sir?” Kyle asks, accusatory.
“What kind of a bloody question is that?” John grunts before staring at you. “Now, don’t think too hard about it, eh? MacTavish has been getting too bold—maybe losin’ a few bills’ll screw his head back straight.”
“I have no problem with it,” your eyes slide to your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow. “You?”
John chuckles and pats your shoulders, squeezing. “Knew she’d jump on it.”
Kyle laughs, making the most of the situation as he nods a few times—watching you with his eyes drowned with warmth and affection.
“I’m down.” You giggle excitedly and slip into one of the dirty bar seats next to Ghost, eagerly trying to get him into a conversation about drinks and good food available in your expensive dress and jacket.
Gaz stares after with a tiny smile, slipping his wallet into his pocket where it belongs.
“Proper Bird,” John mutters, glancing at his Sergeant, grunting as Kyle chuffs. “It’s good to have something like that to go back to. Make it last, then.”
“I don’t plan on messing this up, Boss,” Gaz’s cheeks go hot with embarrassment, but it’s telltale how his eyes never leave your frame for a single second. “Not on my life.”
“Good.” John nods his head, “Go on.”
Kyle sends him a thankful look and shuffles over to the empty seat next to yours; feeling you immensely snuggle up into his side and continue your mostly one-sided conversation with Ghost. Soap was still drinking down his beverages with loud comments every once and a while.
Gaz kisses the top of your head and waves over the bartender.
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don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks
summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'
warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 5.8k
listen to: the playlist
a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??
chef luca masterlist | full masterlist
After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea.
It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas.
“I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”
“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like.
“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make.
“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”
“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”
“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call.
“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects.
Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:
“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”
*
You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation.
The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time.
This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests.
“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip.
“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness.
“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors.
Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:
“No, I meant for me.”
“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.”
And expensive ones too.
But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf.
“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile.
You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip.
“I want you to feel at home… at my place."
“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him.
“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes.
“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat.
“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”
“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store.
“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?”
“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”
Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.
Connection
When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare.
“Marcus,
Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”
…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad.
As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him.
Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days.
While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.
*
“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes.
“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement.
The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right.
He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air.
His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.
As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.
“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation.
“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent.
As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through.
“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction.
“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.”
“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.
“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod.
“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.
“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.”
Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work.
“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”
Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”
This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:
“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”
It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them.
Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead.
All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares.
“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence.
And how is his heart?
He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone.
His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces.
He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together.
His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land.
Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer.
He waits. And then he waits.
Until finally, he can answer.
“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”
Creativity
“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)
Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to.
It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.
With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos.
But this. But you.
Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient.
Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out.
It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created.
You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been.
And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry.
It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you.
“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen.
As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date.
“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval.
“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.
Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper.
“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor.
“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”
Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.”
Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity.
“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room.
“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”
“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”
Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim.
As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart.
Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress.
“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff.
“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around.
“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time.
You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”
And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.
“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly.
“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus.
“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through.
“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in.
Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling.
*
You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you.
“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.
“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently.
“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night.
“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan.
“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently.
“This… Waking up to you thing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against.
“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully.
“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs.
“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”
“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours.
“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation.
“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies.
It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.
“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body.
“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”
“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend.
Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him.
“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment.
“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”
“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”
“Fuck yes.”
Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision.
And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman.
You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life.
Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person.
By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.
While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark.
“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug.
“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it.
Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working.
“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes.
“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”
“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook.
“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board.
“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”
“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction.
“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”
Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”
“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours.
You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:
“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”
Kokuore
Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off.
“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left.
To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here.
And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.
“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice.
“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.”
You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation.
“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday.
You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling.
“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light.
“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier.
“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious.
“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you.
“Deal,” you agree with him.
You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.
“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously.
“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms.
“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”
“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales.
He waits a beat.
And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands.
The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue.
“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”
“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.”
As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:
How’s your heart?
At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him.
Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out.
“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.”
“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”
“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.”
“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.”
“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly.
You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present.
“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?”
You return to your chair with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.”
“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly.
“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start.
“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes.
You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy.
“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”
By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca.
“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously.
With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:
“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”
#chef luca#will poulter#luca the bear#the bear season 2#the bear headcanon#luca x reader#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#chef luca x reader#pastry chef luca#burn your life down
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OLDER.
buwan’s notes: I need to be put under watch, I have been sobbing relentlessly to Older by 5SOS, I’ve missed a bunch of music from their band and I’m really honestly mad 😭. This fic is definitely inspired by mentioned song, this fic has all of my favourite lyrics from the song scattered around its paragraphs. Please do enjoy <3.
episode summary: Dwayne didn’t want to leave his human life without you, and he most definitely doesn’t want to leave his vampire life without you either.
content warnings: BEING FUCKING SAD. This whole mini-fic is literally just Dwayne being in love with you.
tags: @britany1997 @desoolate .
[dwayne x fem!reader.]
“I don’t want to be immortal.” Dwayne mumbled, looking at the midnight sky. You hummed, “you’re still thinking about their offer?” Dwayne could feel your hands run themselves through his dark locks. “I don’t wanna leave you..” his gaze switched to you, looking down at him with an undeserving loving stare.
“You don’t have to, I’ll be with you.” You replied, continuing to stare into Dwayne’s brown irises, admiring the love of your life.
“You’d..give up your humanity? For me? Do you really wanna do that, love?” He slowly sat up, your eyes following his movements, Dwayne’s question made you think for a few seconds, you’d get to leave everyone else behind, it’ll be you and Dwayne, for a long, long while.
“If forever is something you see us having, why not?” You pulled the man to your lips, giving him a reassurance he didn’t know he needed. “You’ll have to kill, and feed on others, that doesn’t scare you?” Dwayne mumbled into your lips, holding your wrists which held his face in a warmth, memorizing how much he loved feeling you.
“what more do you want to ask for other than yes, Dwayne?” You laughed. “I just want you to be sure, I’ll be the only thing you’ll have, and you’ll be mine.” You shook your head at his reasoning. “I’m sure, I don’t want to be older, at least, not without you.”
“Hi, love.” Dwayne greeted, rubbing his eyes of sleep. You were huddled by the fountain, safely watching the sun turn in for the night.
“Hi.” You replied curtly. You felt your boyfriend’s presence beside you. “What’re you thinking about?” His arm snaked its way onto your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. “I just missed the sun is all..” Dwayne could almost laugh at your excuse, you were never one to lose sleep over something small, especially the ball of heat in the sky.
A small silence befalls the both of you, a cool air replaces the hot sun, signalling that the moon was to show, and it would be safe to traverse the earth.
“We’d be really old by now, you know that?” You broke the silence, looking over to Dwayne, who seemed busy looking over your features, how your smile was so soothing to him, he didn’t need to stare at the sun to be reminded of its warmth when he had you.
Dwayne moved up to your eyes, the way your eyelashes would cover your wonderful irises, the way they’d kiss your cheeks for every time you blinked. One thing vampirism couldn’t take away from him was his admiration for you. His dear, devoted delicate.
“Good thing we became vampires then, I don’t think I’d like you all saggy and crinkly.” Dwayne joked, squeezing your shoulder in a light-hearted way. “That’s mean!” You pushed him away, your nose scrunching up from his dumb joke.
“You know you’d be crinkly too,” you snickered, joining along. “I’m so happy I met you all those years ago.” Dwayne expressed, his laugh dying down.
“The boys will wanna go down into the town soon.” Dwayne reminded, taking his arm off of your shoulders to rest his hand on top of yours, on the cold stone of the cave.
“You’re right, I should go get Laddie ready then, no?” You tilted your head off into the direction of the kid’s small alcove. Dwayne watched as you stood up, getting ready to walk off.
His rough hands stopped you, making you almost stumble at the tug. “I love you. So much. I hope you never leave me.” Dwayne confessed, your heart felt like it was going to beat again, hearing those words come out of your dark-haired boyfriend.
“The time you leave me, I’ll forever be bleeding love.” You pulled Dwayne up, making him stand with you, you loved these moments, the most vulnerable, the ones where Dwayne was still human, in your eyes.
As a vampire, you slowly start to lose your humanity the longer you live on. To you, it always seemed like Dwayne would never experience that, he still loves with all of his heart, even if he doesn’t show it.
You’re glad that one thing didn’t go away.
“Well, let’s hope the world spins a little slower then, I want all the time we can get.” Your hands caressed the dark-haired man’s jaw. Your eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes before you leaned in, your lips meeting his once again.
“They murdered him— they fuckin’—“ Dwayne punched the wall of the cave, the thud echoing against the caves, “they took Laddie too..” you sighed, it was the night everything went wrong, when the Emersons decided to ruin their lives.
It was the three of them, you, him, Laddie. Dwayne had everything he wanted. A band of the loyalest friends you could get, the immortality, the love of his life.
“We’re gonna take our revenge, I’ll rip their heads off their fucking bodies for ruining us.” Dwayne growled, his vampire features showing through his human one. You didn’t know whether or not to be as angry.
You weren’t alive, you remembered, your heart didn’t beat, but it still felt like it did, Marko was a friend to all of you, a brother even. Even though the boys had an evil reputation to upheld, Marko promised he’d show you how to sew after you’d drunkenly rambled about your dreams of marrying Dwayne.
You remembered what Marko told you that one sunrise, all before you went to sleep. “Your guys’ love is tailor-made. One with no tragedy at the end.”
He wanted to help you make your wedding dress. You mourned the death of your curly-headed brother, you weeped and wailed as you watched his body fall off the rails, onto the cursed frog brothers.
You couldn’t reply to Dwayne, only stopping him when he tried to leave your side to band with his mourning brothers for revenge.
“I don’t want to lose you.” You whimpered, your eyes pleaded for him to stay, that’s why he didn’t look at you. “I don’t want to lose another tonight.” Your sentence left you with a whisper, holding Dwayne’s ring-clad hand tighter.
Dwayne stayed quiet, his head fighting a battle with his feelings, your desperation made him want to stay, to comfort you, to show that he knew he wasn’t the only one hurting.
In the end, his brothers needed him, and for once he chose something over you. “I’m sorry love, my brothers, our brothers, they need me. I have to go with them.” Dwayne whispered back, his hand travelled to your cheek, his thumb wiping away a rare tear.
“You promised you’d stay with me, our forever, remember?” You were always good at backtalk, he knew he promised that he’d be here for you, like all those years ago when he told you that he was going to be the only person you know, and you, him.
“I can’t.. Marko didn’t deserve that, you know as well as I do—“ Dwayne stopped you from continuing your complaints, fearing he wouldn’t be able to take revenge, and he’d know he’d lose his brothers’ trust and he didn’t want to lose another thing in the same night either.
“How will I know you’ll return to me? What if, you leave me alone?” You spat, your eyes starting to water, you were a sensitive vampire, feeling instead of feasting.
“I will return to you. When have I ever not?” Dwayne didn’t want to think about the weight of his words, only the fact that this was an unwritten promise to survive his battle with the Emersons to return back to your side.
This was the moment you knew you couldn’t stop Dwayne. As much as it hurt you to let go of his palm, you gently pulled his hand away from your cheek, a silent look in your eyes told him to stay safe, and to come back to you.
Dwayne didn’t say anything else, walking off to join his brothers’ on their path to revenge.
“You’re a huge liar, you know that?” You mumbled, holding a ripped piece of leather in your hands, the tips of your fingers remembering every texture it could feel of the fabric.
You were alone, the huge cave was yours, bitterly so. They didn’t return, none of them, not David, not Paul, especially not Dwayne, your Dwayne.
You knew they had gotten themselves killed, it took a while to realize that Dwayne probably knew he wouldn’t return to you either. His words were an empty promise, so that you would feel at ease.
And you hate that it did ease you, for a while anyway.
Star was the one that confirmed that your lover left you. She picked up the scraps, the remains of what she could of your boyfriend, returning it to you with a guilty pain.
Star never resented you, she was..somewhat happy you didn’t come with the boys. When Star was first initiated, you were there to help her get past the scary realization that she was going to be immortal and alone.
Star remembered how you held her with the warmth of the sunlight, she asked herself how you could be so kind, being a monster of the night. You merely joined your lover to the end, and it was painfully clear that you hadn’t had a mission in mind, other than seeing Dwayne through it all, forever.
So, in a poor attempt to give her thanks, and her apology, she returned what she could of Dwayne to you. Hugging you only when you seemed to lose every strength in your legs as your hands cradled the pieces of Dwayne’s favourite jacket.
“What happened?” You whispered, your tears forever flowing from your eyes, “his jacket’s all ruined?— this was his favourite, how— I—“ your lips couldn’t form a sentence when your mind had dawned on the fact that Dwayne was dead and that your forever had ended.
Star only hugged you tightly as you screamed and weeped into her chest. She wished she could’ve done more.
You looked around the empty cave, only memories remained inside, the fountain, the little trinkets Paul collected, the books Dwayne accumulated, the fabrics Marko had stolen, the cigarette butts David threw away. You wish you could say everything was here but it wasn’t, the boys weren’t here.
You had long packed your stuff, a duffel bag full of clothes you could bring, all from various piles of whatever you could find from the boys, mostly Dwayne’s and clothing you’ve bought.
There was nothing left in the cave for you, the one reason to stay wasn’t there anymore. You gathered the last of your things as Star waited outside, waiting to help you travel through the night to wherever you wanted to go.
You knew you should hate Star, for sealing the boys’ fate, when she had snitched to the Emersons of their vampirism. There wasn’t much options though, you had to stop your pity party, you had to leave, and only Star knew how to help you. You were the only vampire in Santa Carla now, and she knew.
You gave yourself one last tour of the cave, peeking into the personal alcoves the boys had given themselves, reminiscing, getting ready to let go. They weren’t human, but they made the cave feel like home, it made you think that maybe they didn’t lose their humanity after all.
Finally, you stopped at your shared alcove with Dwayne, the ground littered with books he read with you, the wilted flowers he stole off of a couple for you, the candle lit bed was unmade, from the last time it was used. You didn’t have the heart to fix anything up.
It felt like if you fixed it up, you’d finally be erasing the fact that the boys were ever here, and how could you do that to Dwayne?
One last sweep of the room, your hand gently swiped the bed on the cave floor, before reluctantly pulling away. “You ready?” You jumped at the sudden voice, seeing Star at the entrance of the cave, looking at you.
Her hands fiddled with themselves, obviously uncomfortable being back at the cave. You nodded, holding your duffel bag tight to your figure before walking off with Star, every step felt dreadful, getting closer and closer to beyond forever and leaving everything you know behind.
Although, something makes you feel like Dwayne would be glad, that you’re not moping, that you’re not angry he hadn’t fulfilled his promise of forever, his dear beloved delicate.
I don't wanna get older,
Without your head on my shoulder.
On the day that you leave me,
I'll forever be bleeding, love.
As forever comes closer,
Hope the world will spin slower,
I don't wanna get older.
- older, 5 seconds of summer, ft. sierra deaton.
#dwayne the lost boys#dwayne tlb#tlb dwayne#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader#tlb#✦ dwayne’s karma.#tlb dwayne x reader#the lost boys imagines#✦ buwan writes.#the lost boys fic#the lost boys x you#the lost boys dwayne
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I'm Here, I'm Here
Request: Could you do a fic with either Roy or Jamie x reader and the reader is having a hard time with grief after losing their dad?
Jamie Tartt x Reader
0.7k words
Warnings: Grief, mentions of a deceased dad, established relationship
A/N: Ahh my first Jamie Tartt fic! I hope it came out well ❤️
“Babe? Where are you?”
Jamie’s pretty face appeared in the doorway. His eyes softened when he saw you standing over the sink, sponge in hand. You’d said you were going to the kitchen to do the dishes from dinner. However, it was clear from the plates still stacked in the sink that you hadn’t even begun the task. Instead, you were staring out the window, not quite seeing the fading sunlight that lit the garden in that soft way you usually liked.
With a tiny sigh, Jamie approached and gently wrapped his arms around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into his familiar touch, dropping the sponge and closing your eyes. For the past month, he kept walking on scenes like this: laundry on your lap, unfolded; dinner ingredients on the countertop, unopened; television in front of you, unwatched. Just you, frozen, lost somewhere in your own thoughts.
It would get easier, everyone assured you. Day by day, things would start to feel better. But you’d begun to doubt that. It seemed that no matter how much time passed between your dad’s funeral and now, your entire body still felt the loss just as heavily. You were a statue, frozen and made of stone.
The only person not telling you that things would get better was Jamie. Your boyfriend of about three years didn’t say too much about the situation, but he held you. He’d held you through the days of endless crying, listening to you attempt to bargain with a god neither of you were quite sure was listening, and now he held you through the endless silence.
His arms were so familiar after three years together: firm, tender, strong, gentle. He gripped you tight and pressed your back against his chest so you could feel his beating heart. I’m here, it said over and over. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.
He leaned his cheek against the top of your head, simply engulfing you in his warmth, as if he were trying to thaw you out. Never able to stay still, he eventually began to sway back and forth aimlessly, creating an uneven rhythm that clashed with the steady one his heart created.
“I’m sad,” you finally croaked out. You wrapped a tentative hand around his forearm, afraid that if you moved to suddenly, he too would disappear forever.
Instead, he kissed the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured. He sighed, a heavy sound that you could feel in your whole body. “I miss him too, babe.”
That lump in your throat that never seemed to go away hardened. Jamie had loved your dad; with his own father being what he was, and his mother and Simon back in Manchester, Jamie clung to your family like a life preserver. He and your dad had become best friends quickly, always chatting at family dinners or going out for a pint. He made sure your dad and his mates always had tickets for any match they wanted, and all of Nelson Road knew to treat Jamie’s girlfriend’s dad like royalty. It made your dad happy to be so doted on by a famous footballer, and it made him even happier to see you so in love with such a kind young man.
Jamie didn’t say it- probably because he didn’t want to take away from your grief- but he was heartbroken. He, too, had moments of silence where the loss hit him like a punch to the gut and he had no choice but to simply freeze. He’d find things around the house that made him think of your dad- a photo of your family, the book he’d suggested Jamie would like, a bottle of his favorite beer, the kind Jamie actually hated but always made sure to have on hand just for your dad- and would become as still as a statue.
The sorrow hit even harder when he saw you like this, looking like a lost child. He wished he had the words to make everything better, but he knew they didn’t exist. And even if they did, he was pretty sure he’d say them all wrong and somehow make you feel worse; Jamie Tartt wasn’t the most eloquent speaker, and he knew it. So instead, he loved you the best way he knew how.
He folded the unfolded laundry. He made the unmade dinners. He put a movie on the unwatched telly. And now, he walked you to the kitchen table and let you sit down before turning back to the sink to handle the unwashed dishes.
And after that, he would lead you to your bed, where he’d simply hold you and let his heartbeat tell you over and over again, I’m here.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt fic#jamie tartt fluff#ted lasso fanfiction
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Okay okay okay, last oneeeee!!!
May I please ask for a NORTHANGER ABBEY with my sunshine boy Daniel Ricciardo and the “who did this to you?” trope?? That trope makes me feral and I just know you’d be an amazing person to write it!!
Thanks in advance, definitely thanks again for doing this amazing event, and I hope you’re doing well, darlin’! 🤍🩵🩷
this is heavily inspired by that one normal people so enjoy the pain i’m so sorry
FIX YOU. ❨ daniel ricciardo x reader ❩
✩⡱ warnings: toxic family environment, a violent scene but nothing too graphic i hope 🫶
growing up had not been kind to you. life hadn’t dealt you a fair deal — you were the odd one out. all throughout school, you worked hard and focused on the goals you had set out in your head. this meant sacrificing a social life, being cool, having friends. the weird girl in the corner.
life at home hadn’t been much better. with no father around, your mother turned selfish. she became a workaholic, cold and miserable, uncaring for the feelings of her children. your brother was four years your senior and a mean kind of person. constantly teasing, taunting, dangling a rope in front to wait for you to bite. his torment of you was his entertainment.
when you met daniel, you never knew something could be so good. he was everything you’d never had, everything right about the world. and for the first time in your life, you felt loved. daniel looked at you and only you. he loved you, and only you.
“darling,” he’d whisper to you in the middle of the night. “i’m not a religious person, but sometimes i think god made me for you.”
what had been so horrible in your early life didn’t matter anymore. daniel was goodness and light. he was a new beginning, completely disconnected from any bad memories of your life before. you’d told him a thing or two about your family, but never the full truth. never how bad they were.
maybe it was fear of scaring him off, but not once did you invite him home with you. you’d met his parents, they’d taken you in like one of their own, but he’d never once met your mother or brother. he understood, respecting your boundaries, and when you needed to go home he let you go. you always came back.
once or twice a year you returned back to your home for a few days, just to appease your mother and give her nothing bad to say about you. it just so happened that this weekends race wasn’t far from where you’d grown up, so two birds were knocked with one stone.
daniel was busy with practice, giving you enough time to have dinner with your mother and get back to your boyfriend in time for the new episode of the kardashians. your brother wasn’t supposed to be there. but he was, and drunk. stumbling over his own feet, grumbling insults when he noticed you there.
excusing yourself from his stench, you wandered into the kitchen to clear your plate. he followed behind, stalking you like some prey ready to be pounced one. he taunted and taunted but you blocked it all out. you’d learned to blur his words out, stubbing out the knives before they could pierce your skin.
“give me that,” he snatched at the plate in your hand, grabbing until it smashed against the skin, barely missing slicing your hand. you glare up at him, pushing his hands away. your feet carry you quickly towards your old room, unchanged from when you turned eighteen. your bag was there, your plan to get it and go back to daniel powering you on.
you barely realised he was following you until the door you’d just slammed flies back open, crushing you between it and the wall. your nose took most of the blow, and you feel the blood begin to gush your face in an instant. your brother’s eyes are dark when he sees what he’s done, no regret or sorrow behind them. in fact, he’s proud.
when you found your phone, you don’t know. but daniel’s contact is on the screen and it’s ringing out, him answering in only a few seconds.
“hi baby. how was dinner?” the australian chirps, and your heart squeezes with how happy he sounds. the tissue you had pressed to your nasal is damp with red now.
“somethings happened. can you come get me?” you whisper, locked in the bathroom. amongst all of the commotion, your mother hadn’t come to check on you. she didn’t care.
the keys in daniel’s hand jingle in the background, someone calling him as he hurries out of the drivers briefing. he wastes no time in obliging, hearing the urgency in your voice. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, but something is. that’s all he needs to know.
“i’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
his blood runs cold when you come to answer the door. the blood has dried now, around your lips and chin. your nose is already turning blue. he grasps at your arms as soon as he can, softly moving the tissue out of the way to get a good look at the damage.
“who did this to you?” daniel seethes. never in his life had he felt so angry, not when he’d been crashed into or fucked over by strategists. he’d never felt so scared. behind you, he sees your brother slink in from the shadows. he looks at him, then at you, and he knows. “did he do this?”
you don’t even need to nod, the look you give him says it all.
“go wait in the car,” daniel tells you, not giving you a chance to argue. “go. i’ll be there in a minute.”
he waits until you’re out of site before he pounces on your brother. hands on his chest, pinning him to the wall. danny hovers inches over the other, glare piercing through his cocky demeanour.
“if you ever, ever, touch her again, i swear to god i’ll rip you apart,” daniel’s voice is low, and he’s glad you’re not there to see that side of him. the side that would kill for you. “stay away from her.”
your brother sheepishly nods, hitting the wall with a thump when daniel shoves him back. the driver turns on his heel and leaves the house, for what he swears will be the first and last ever time. you’re waiting in the passenger seat, sniffling as you try desperately to clean yourself up.
daniel slides into the drivers seat, turning the heat on and turning towards you. he feels his heart crack to pieces at the sight of you. he’d sworn to protect you a long time ago, and he hadn’t been there. it had been a feeling of hate he’d never felt for himself before.
“no one will ever hurt you like that again,” daniel swears to you, his voice soft but stern. his hand rests delicate on your cheek, the porcelain of your skin threatening to break under his touch. you sink into his touch, a tear slipping onto his thumb.
but you believe him, amongst all of the blood and ruin. you know he’ll do all he can to keep you from harm from this day on, be it caused by him or another. because he’ll never survive seeing you like this again.
“let’s go home.” daniel kisses your blood stained cheek, starting up the car and taking you away from the worst of the night. little does he know, you’re already home. home is wherever he is.
dolly!! 🧚 i know you sent a few other requests before this and i will get to them but i wanted to write this from the minute it came into my inbox
#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo blurb#daniel ricciardo drabble#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel riccardo x reader
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the day neil leaves, max wakes up to a note on her nightstand.
it’s the end of august. her brother’s been dead for almost two months.
good riddance, the note says. makes her laugh, and that. it hasn’t happened in a while. max thinks, right on, and draws the covers over her head again. no one’s there to yell her out of bed, anyway.
a week later, she’s sitting on another bed, in another room. smaller and affordable and miserable, which is what you get for being a single mom’s offspring in indiana. her brother’s life is taking over her entire floor, tapes and books and jackets spilling out of the one box it all fits in. even in death, billy refuses to be contained.
you’re dead, max thinks, feeling like she’s being pushed out of her own life. you don’t get to do this anymore.
on the first day of school, she shows up in his jacket. it’s too hot for leather yet. by the end of the day she’s cranky, and sweat-flushed, and her nostrils are cologne-coated. instead of skating back to the trailer, she turns left.
one of them is stone, so this is bound to be pretty one-sided, but. they need to talk.
‘i miss you,’ she tells him. ‘i hate you.’
she doesn’t wait for an answer. she knows better by now.
when she finally makes it back to her room, there’s another note waiting for her, squashed under a tape. side-b, the note instructs, track 3. the colors on the cover are too bright, dissonantly happy against the earthy brown of the room. a kind of magic, the title mocks her. max closes her eyes against it, because she’s long stopped believing in good things.
she presses play. don’t lose your head, freddie sings, and max plays the song again, and again, and thinks, too late.
‘where’d you get this?’ lucas asks her the next day, turning the tape this way and that.
max fights the urge to snatch it away and hide it from everyone she’s ever loved. ‘billy gave it to me,’ she says, before her brain can catch up to her mouth. so much for keeping sane. it’s almost worth it for the horror in dustin’s eyes, and the squeak her stupid, wonderful boyfriend lets out when he throws the tape back at her, panicked.
boys. can’t even handle a teeny haunting.
what max focuses on, though, is the way steve’s eyes go comically big, and then look away. one thing max knows about steve harrington is he’s a shitty liar.
she spends the day wrapped in her brother’s jacket and claims her grief-earned place on the passenger seat of steve’s car the second the bell rings. sorrow is neat, once you get the hang of it. max has been calling shotgun for the last two months, and no one’s said a word.
the moment lucas is out of the car, she turns to steve. ‘what did yours say?’
steve chokes on his own breath, because he’s the dumbest boy in the whole world, and her brother’s taste is terrible. ‘no idea what—’
max pinches his arm, hard. ‘how did lying to my brother work out for you?’
he lets out a sigh, while rolling his eyes, while driving. sure, max is the hazard here. ‘ugh,’ he says, ‘fine,’ and makes a right towards his place.
ten minutes later, max is standing in steve’s kitchen, staring at his notes. steve’s three notes. ‘i’m his sister and i got two.’
‘it’s not a competition.’
max glares him to silence. ‘that the first?’ she asks, pointing to a napkin with the word SLUT covering what max guesses is a girl’s phone number, signed with a kiss.
steve stares at it, visibly annoyed. ‘nope. that one, then the napkin. totally uncalled for, by the way. third one appeared last night.’
thanks for keeping an eye on her, reads the first, scrawled on a post-it next to the phone. according to steve, it appeared before july was over. not even a month of being dead and billy was already bored.
it’s so painfully him. max laughs despite herself, and realizes it happens often lately.
the third note is just a doodle of a skull like the one max spent last spring making fun of her dumb brother for, except this one’s got a mullet, and an earring dangling from the hole where his left ear should be, and the words guess who scribbled on one corner.
max slaps steve’s arm to keep from crying. ‘why didn’t you say anything?’
‘say what? hey, this is crazy, but i think your dead brother is harassing me from the grave? do you know how stupid that sounds?’
‘uh, no worse than usual?’
steve gasps dramatically. ‘how sure are we you’re not just possessed by his spirit? you never used to be so mean.’
max fixes him with a look.
‘fine,’ steve sighs, throwing his stupid hands in the air, ‘you’ve always been mean.’ he nods at the notes on the counter. ‘what’re we gonna do about that?’
‘we obviously need to find him.’
‘oh, yeah? you got a map of the underworld i don’t know about?’
rolling her eyes, ‘he’s alive,’ she points out, and then, ‘wait—’
that piece of paper wasn’t there a second ago, was it? she turns it over to find lines with street names, and a big X in the middle.
‘lemme see that,’ steve says, snatching the paper from her. he bursts out laughing, and max shoves him out of the way to read the writing at the bottom of the page.
you’re both useless, it says, don’t show up without beer.
#harringrove#max mayfield#steve harrington#billy hargrove#anyone who points out a kind of magic wasnt released until '86 will be blocked on sight btw <3#my stuff
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Free Use: Ch 7
Free Use: Ch 7
Free Use: Index
Ship: Crush!Taehyung | Reader | feat. Jungkook
Description: Childhood Friends/Crush/Neighbors/College!AU. Your long time crush agrees to be your dom.
Warnings: Free Use Kink, Dom/Sub Relationship, Dom Taehyung, Dom Jungkook, Phone Sex, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Degrading, Rimming (f. receiving), Anal, Intercourse, Oral (m&f receiving), Humiliation Kink, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Spanking, lemme know if I’m missing anything, just straight up PWP man
Word Count: 2,846
A/N: Sorry for the wait! Meant to put this for my 15,000 follower mile stone!
You woke up before Taehyung, admiring his pretty features as he laid beside you. His lashes looked so long, lightly kissing the apples of his cheeks. It still didn’t feel real. You repeat the word over and over again in your head. Boyfriend. Kim Taehyung was your boyfriend.
You touch his face, lightly tracing his cheek, admiring the glow of the morning light illuminating the peach fuzz on his skin. He fluttered his lashes, Disney princess he is, and looked up at you. He pulled a lazy smile, arm swinging over your waist to pull you in closer. “Good morning.” His morning voice was so sexy. He gives you a soft kiss on the lips, brushing your hair out of your face. “I think I can get used to waking up to this view.”
You giggle in response. “I was thinking the same thing.”
The two of you kiss a bit more before Taehyung pulls back. “What does my girlfriend want for breakfast?”
“It’s still so weird hearing that. I almost don’t believe it.”
“That I’m your boyfriend?” Taehyung chuckled. “I’m excited to brag about it, to be honest.”
Your heart fluttered. “You mean that?”
“Of course, baby.” He smiled, turning to hover on top of you, hands creeping up under your shirt. He only touches your waist, big hands touching all of the skin he had access to. “Want to show everyone who owns you.”
You gasp as you feel his erection press against you. “Morning wood?” you question, quirking a brow.
“Maybe. Maybe I just get hard seeing my girlfriend’s cute face.” His hands slide up towards your breasts, sharply pinching your nipples and tugging at them. You moan, arching your back and clenching your thighs together. “Especially that one. Love abusing your tits like this, babe.”
You whimper as he continues toying with you, giving sharp twists and tugs to earn more gasps from you. “A-Ah, Taehyung!”
“Look how desperate you are. Little slut,” Taehyung growls, shoving the shirt up over your tits. He lifts it over your face, blinding your vision. You feel his teeth on you, making you jolt and yelp in pain when he bit you. You squirmed under his hold, your movement kept to a minimum as he pinned you beneath him. It turned you on a bit how strong he was, forcing you to take what he gave you. You couldn’t even reach down to do anything about it, with the way the shirt was bunched up over your face and arms. He sucks harshly on your neck and chest, no doubt leaving hickeys on you.
He yanks the shirt the rest of the way off of you, and you’re left naked beneath him. Smug bastard was still fully clothed. He stares down at you with a satisfied daze, fingers now lightly dancing over the marks he left on you. The juxtaposition of his gentle touch compared to how ravenous he was before was jarring. “Everyone’s gonna know you’ve been fucked if you don’t cover these up the next few days.”
“You’re so possessive.”
His hand comes up to your neck, a light and comforting pressure being applied. “What makes you say that?”
“What about when you saw me dancing with Jungkook?” You pointed out.
“Oh,” his fingers tighten around your throat for a second, “that.”
“Looked like jealousy,” you say, sounding almost too smug for your own good.
“Hm, I think I prefer the term you used before.” He starts choking you properly now, making you feel light headed. “Possessive.”
You gasp as you feel him touch your pussy, fingers rubbing circles into your clit. You were wet already, go figure. “After all… I own you, don’t I?”
You mewl, whimpering under his touch. “Yes, sir. Please…”
“Please what?” Taehyung asks, yanking you up so your face was closer to his. “What do you want me to do, slut? I can do anything I want with you. You’re mine. All of you.”
“Yes. You own me, every part of me,” you agree, trying to gasp out the breaths to form the words. “Want you to cum in me. Every hole- I’m yours. Claim me.”
“Oh? Little freak,” Taehyung smirks. He yanks down his pants, springing out his cock. He’s hard already, an angry shade of red, precum already leaking from the tip. He gives it a few pumps, hissing at the feeling. “Guess we should start with your mouth then. Show me what you’re good for.”
You practically drool at the sight, mouth automatically watering. Your lips part, mouth ready and open, resulting in Taehyung slapping the tip against your lips. “Such a good girl. Knows just what to do when she sees a cock.” His hand reaches out to grasp your hair, pulling you closer to his erection. You catch the head in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head along with Taehyung’s rhythmic pace.
He hisses, hips bucking automatically. He reaches too far for a moment, causing your eyes to well up with tears. You feel Taehyung’s cock twitch in your mouth at the sight. “Pretty slut. Love seeing you cry.”
You moan in response, trying to push your head down deeper. Taehyung groans, diving into your warm mouth, your throat a tight fit around his cock. “That’s right, choke on it. Show me how much you love having a fat cock in your throat.”
All you can do is whimper and service him as he continues using you to get off. His hips stutter, breath faltering before he yanks you off of him, drool dripping down your chin. You catch your breath, staring up at him in surprise. You keep your mouth open, patiently waiting for him to fuck your mouth again. He appears to appreciate it, fingers diving into your mouth, giving you something to suck on in the meantime. “You’re such a good slut for me,” he growls, pulling his fingers out to wipe the saliva on your cheek. “Go lay on your back and spread your legs. Show me what’s mine.”
You don’t hesitate to do what he asks, getting in position as he climbs over you. He reaches over to his phone, and before you can question him on his plans he’s kissing you deeply. He smacks your inner thigh, making you flinch and keep your legs open. His thumb circles your clit, immediately giving you pleasure and making your knees go weak. “There’s someone I wanna tell first about us dating.”
You furrow your brows, confused. “Who?”
“Jungkook.” You hear his phone buzzing, looking down at his screen to see he was calling Jungkook. Before you can make any commentary or protests, he plunges two digits inside of you, making you gasp as he locates your g-spot with expert precision. “Want him to hear how well I fuck you.”
“Hello?”
Taehyung grins, bringing the phone up to your ear, making you hold it, the volume already turned up for you two to hear him perfectly. “It’s for you, baby.”
“J-Jungkook?” You stammer the words out, trying to even your breathing as Taehyung moves his fingers faster, thumb continuing to roll over your clit. Fuck, if he kept this up, you’ll be coming in minutes.
“Y/N? How come you’ve got Taehyung’s phone?” Jungkook’s voice didn’t sound nearly as questioning or as confused as it should’ve. “Are you there with him, still?”
“Y-yeah, he’s- o-oh…” You accidentally let out a moan, feeling the warm, soft sensation of Taehyung’s tongue on your pussy.
“He’s what?” Jungkook’s voice sounds deeper than usual right now. Raspier. “What’s he doing, Y/N?”
You whimper, fingers tightening on Taehyung’s roots, pulling at his scalp. “H-his tongue is…”
“Where’s his tongue?”
“…on my pussy.” You feel your face burn as you say it out loud, feeling embarrassed despite the fact Jungkook couldn’t even see the indecent acts you were committing.
“Fuck.” Jungkook sounds so breathless already. Was he turned on? “Does it feel good, princess?”
Your thighs jolt at the sudden nickname, hips jumping as you ride Taehyung’s mouth. He doesn’t say anything, simply groaning as he continues to devour you. “Yeah, feels so good. Feel like I’m gonna cum any minute.”
“Gonna cum while I’m listening? Like some kind of slut?” Jungkook snickers. “Gonna let me hear those pretty moans?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” You felt the band of pleasure begin to tighten, your toes curling in anticipation. “Taehyung, Jungkook…”
“Fuck, always wondered what you’d sound like moaning my name,” Jungkook rasps. “Want me to talk you through it? Want me to call you a dirty slut while you cum in Taehyung’s mouth?���
“Mm, fuck, I’m so close. Please.”
“Really wish I was there. I bet you’d love for me and Taehyung to tag team you, huh? I bet we’d ruin you.”
You clench around Taehyung’s fingers, tightening as you neared your end. Taehyung released your clit momentarily with a wet pop, speaking loudly enough for Jungkook to hear. “She really liked that, Kook. Greedy pussy is sucking me in.”
“Yeah, I knew she would.” Jungkook lets out a sharp hiss. He must be touching himself right now. “Knew she was secretly a slut. Just needed to get dicked down, huh, Y/N?”
You remembered why Taehyung wanted Jungkook to hear in the first place. His possessiveness.“T-Taehyung and I are dating now.”
“That’s great news, Y/N. I’m happy for you both.” You could hear the low purr in his voice. “Wanna know the best part about that?”
“What?” Your voice was strained, so close to the edge.
“Best friends share everything.”
You come apart on Taehyung’s fingers, curling in as you ride out your orgasm. You don’t get much time to recover, though, only getting in a few shallow breaths before Taehyung’s mouth is claiming yours. You let out a shaky moan, tasting yourself on his tongue. You let out a gasp as you feel him line up with your entrance, shoving himself into you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, hastily pumping into you as he pants against your mouth, eyes boring into yours. “Liked hearing that, huh? Liked having him hear what you sound like when you cum? Want me and Jungkook to share you? One cock not enough?”
You can barely form words, moaning as Taehyung pummels you. “N-No, love your cock, I-“
“Shh, it’s ok baby.” Taehyung’s coos are soft and condescending, a stark contrast from the rough way he manhandled you, trying to reach as deep as possible. “Should’ve known you were a greedy thing. I’m prepared to spoil you.” He gives you a sweet kiss, hand flying down to touch you. “I’m not that selfish anyways, I’ve learned to share my toys. Jungkook doesn’t play as nice as me though, sweetheart. Sure you can handle him?”
Jungkook chuckles at that. “She can handle it. Say, Y/N, what’re you made for, huh?”
Your cheeks burn with humiliation. You turn your head away from the phone, only for Taehyung to aggressively grab your jaw, swinging your head back to the phone. “Answer him, slut.”
You let out a whimper, feeling so overstimulated and overwhelmed, the edge that was coming your way once more simply tantalizing. “Cock,” you say softly.
“Hm? Couldn’t hear you.”
“I’m made to take cock,” you moan out, eyes beginning to cross from how well Taehyung was fucking you.
“What a good girl,” Jungkook cooes, the vibrato of his voice caressing your ears. “You’re right. Not so stupid all the time.”
Your orgasm washes over you for a second time, and Taehyung has to pull out abrubtly to keep from coming. He gives his soaked cock a few more strokes, breathing heavily. He’s hovering over you, his deep pants echoing in your ear opposite from his phone. His hands run up and down your waist, letting you both catch your breath. You stare down at his erection, lubricated with both your wetness and his pre-cum. “Why didn’t you cum?” you ask, breathless.
“Did you forget already?” Taehyung laughs breathlessly. “Jungkook’s right, you are stupid. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He quickly flips you over on your stomach, hiking your hips up to present your ass to him. You squeal when his hand comes down with a loud crack, stinging your skin. His lips brush over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “One more hole, baby. All of you is mine, remember?”
You let out an obscene moan when his tongue presses against the rim, circling and teasing you. You had never before been touching in that area, and while you were more than happy to let Taehyung be your first, the sensations were unfamiliar. “Taehyung!”
He hums against you, tongue starting to dive in. “You seem to like this already, huh? Little anal slut.”
“What’s he doing to you, Y/N? You’re sounding kind of pathetic.”
“He’s-he’s eating out my…” You moan, feeling his tongue dive into you, face buried. “My ass.”
“You’re so dirty. Can’t believe you like getting your ass eaten,” Jungkook moans. “You’re such a dirty slut. You sound so needy even though you just got fucked.”
“I can’t help it. It feels so good.”
“Only nasty little girls like getting their ass played with,” Jungkook scolds. “Admit it.”
“I’m- I’m a nasty slut who likes having her ass played with.” You bite down on your lower lip, feeling like you were going crazy. “Taehyung, please.”
Taehyung pulls away, letting his thumb circle the rim before pushing inside, pumping inside you slowly to get you used to the sensation. Your mouth drops into an ‘o’ form, concentrating on the vile pleasure being awarded to you.
“She’s so wet,” Taehyung comments, reaching for his bedside drawer to yank out lube, pouring out a generous amount. You moan, fisting the sheets as he starts pumping his fingers into you. “Dripping all over my sheets just from me eating her ass.” He pulls out his finger to dive back in, letting you feel the sensation of his tongue. He comes back up, fingers returning to scissor your hole, stretching you out in preparation. “Likes every nasty thing I do to her.”
“Y/N, can I FaceTime you when he finally puts it in your ass?”
You recall Taehyung’s earlier comment, and look back to him. He strokes his cock, aligning it with your back entrance. “Hurry up and call, Kook. I won’t be able to last much longer.”
You’re greeted with a different notification, and soon Jungkook’s face graces your screen. You see he’s shirtless, in only his boxers, the waistband pulled beneath his balls to let his cock spring free. He’s laying in bed, cheeks flushed a heavenly color, phone pulled back enough for you to see him jerking his enormous cock for you to see. “Jungkook, fuck!” You blurt out the words as Taehyung starts to push the tip inside.
“Like what you see?” Jungkook snickers. He had no right being that confident in his generous size.
You glower at the screen, biting your lip as you shamefully nod your head. “Yes.”
“Want it in your mouth?” Nod. “Pussy?” Nod. “What about your tight ass?” Another nod. You moan, sounding purely pornographic as Taehyung slowly inched deeper into you. “Fuck, Y/N, you look so hot like this.”
“I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said all call.”
“I think you like the fact I’m so mean to you. If you wanted nice you wouldn’t have wanted Taehyung.” Jungkook’s hand sped up as he watched your expressions. “How does it feel?”
“Weird,” you say honestly. Taehyung finally gets as deep as he can, pulling his hips back to fuck you. You can tell from the tremor in his thighs he won’t last much longer. “But good. Dirty and amazing all at once.”
“Mm, Taehyung’s gonna have to train you to take a cock up your ass regularly, so you’re ready to be used.” You whimper at that, hearing Jungkook’s voice crack as he reached the edge. “Maybe he’ll let me help.”
“He wants me to slut you out to him so bad,” Taehyung chuckles in your ear. “Maybe I’ll let you suck his cock whenever he’s having a bad day. Or I’ll have him help me punish you when you’ve been too much of a brat.”
“I would’ve helped you earlier,” Jungkook groans, getting closer to climax. “Would’ve spanked that pussy til it was all puffy and red, would’ve made her cry.”
“Hear that, slut? We’ve got a lot of plans for this tight snatch of yours.” Taehyung reaches down to grab it possessively, nails slightly scratching you as his hips falter. “Fuck, I’m coming.”
“Come in me, please sir,” you beg. Taehyung rewards you, hips flush against yours as he empties his load as deep into you as he could. Jungkook finally lets out his release too, and you see cum coat his chest. His moan sounds absolutely delicious, and you’re left quivering as Taehyung’s sweaty form slumps against yours, worn out.
All three of you are left gasping for air.
Taehyung reaches for the phone. “We’ll call you later, Kook. Still on for Valorant tonight?”
“Yeah man, talk to you later.”
Jungkook hangs up, leaving you and Taehyung alone, sweaty and breathless. Taehyung curls up next to you, cuddling you close as he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. “Ready for breakfast, beautiful?”
#taehyung smut#bts smut#smut#bts#bangtan#jungkook smut#taehyung#v smut#jungkook#bts taehyung#bts v#bts jungkook#dom jungkook#dom taehyung
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A Gift from the Ferrari Gods
Part 1: 20 Minutes to Spare
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Request: Hello! Love your writing!!! I don’t know if you take requests, but I was wondering if you would maybe write a Sequel to 20 mins to spare where Charles brought home one of the race suits? And then sexy shenanigans follow 😈😈 If not, totally understand, and I hope you keep putting up content!!
Warnings: Thigh riding, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation (kinda), cockwarming(kinda), slight praise kink i think, begging and orgasm control. (Buckle up ig)
Sidenote: Did i google the french translation for “i’m gonna cum” and never used it because it made me uncomfortable? Yeah i did… Also, this is long and it’s pure filth. Read at your own risk!
It was already past ten in the morning when your deep slumber was knocked out of its place by that weird phase of half-sleeping where you can hear everything around you. An obnoxious bird outside was loudly contributing to the process of waking you up and any chance of falling back asleep was eliminated when you sensed a figure standing by the side of the bed, shadowing you as if it was waiting for you to open your eyes.
It would’ve been creepy if you didn’t know who it was. Charles.
“What do you want?” You groaned in annoyance, turning onto your back and covering your face with a pillow so you wouldn’t have to face the sunlight just yet.
You waited a few seconds, awaiting a reply but you received none, what weirded you out.
Throwing the pillow away, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes then propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up to find a bright flash of Ferrari red blocking your view. The color was too much to take, considering the fact that you had just woken up.
Once your vision adjusted to the intrusion, you realized that Charles was just casually wearing a race suit, minus the shoes and gloves, and standing still-as-stone with a stupidly big smile on his face.
“You’re going somewhere?” You asked, wondering if you had forgotten about some event he told you about.
“Non.” He chuckled.
“Is this some sort of a suit fitting or something?” You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out why he was just wearing his suit in the house.
“Also no.”
“Then, what the hell is going on?” You frowned, now genuinely confused.
“C’mon. Think a little!” He teased, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
The wheels in your mind started spinning, trying to find any memory that would point you to the reason behind your boyfriend’s current attire.
“It’s still too early for this, Charles.” You gave up, “Why are you wearing the suit?”
“You forgot about Canada already?” He smirked, pulling the sheets off your body and placing his hand on your leg.
“What? What does that-“ then the conversation that happened after you had sex in the bathroom resurfaced in your mind, “Oh my god, Charles! I was joking!” You gasped.
You were wide awake now and fully sat up in the bed, your eyes glued on Charles as he laughed full-heartedly.
“Does that mean it doesn’t turn you on?” He teasingly asked after his laughter died down, already knowing the honest answer to his question.
“Viens ici, mon amour.” Come here, my love. He held out his hand and you took it, allowing him to help you onto his lap, the pajama shorts you were wearing doing barely anything to shield your skin from the rough material of his suit.
“Réponds-moi, chérie.” Answer me, darling. He slipped his hands under your shirt, resting them firmly on your waist. “It doesn’t turn you on?” His eyes studied your expression attentively, not wanting to miss any of your reactions to his words and his touch.
“I never said that.” You shortly replied, you walls clenching as you realized where this was going.
“Good.” He fiddled with the hem of your shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off.
With newfound eagerness, you quickly nodded and he pulled the material over your head, cursing under his breath when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. He pulled you closer, eliminating the remaining distance between you two and kissing you with pure hunger. His hands moved up your body painfully slow until they reached your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers and rubbing them with his thumbs.
When it came to Charles, that was enough to have you moaning into his mouth, that was all it took for you to start rocking against his crotch, desperate for any friction as you felt the wetness start to pool between your legs.
Charles then broke the kiss, moving down to nibble on your neck instead, leaving small marks on your collarbones.
“Wanna hear you, baby.” He spoke against your skin, the vibrations of his voice making you shiver.
His hands went back to your nipples and he pinched them with just enough force that you let out a high pitched moan and arched your body into him.
“Encore.” More.
He trailed his mouth down until his lips wrapped around the sensitive bud of nerves, his teeth carefully grazing the sensitive skin there. The feeling left you desperately aching for more, for stronger pleasure. It made you want anything he was willing to give, not caring if it was his fingers, his tongue or his dick.
“Charles, please.” You pleaded, you hand tugging on his hair to relieve some tension.
“Please what, ma belle?” He looked at you, clearly wanting an answer but not just any answer. He wanted an explicit one that would describe everything that’s on your mind in the filthiest way possible.
“Fuck… Please fuck me, Charles.” You begged, ending the sentence with a peck to his lips.
“Tsk,” he kissed your lips, “pas encore au moins.” Not yet at least, then his lips met the spot under your ear, “Il y a beaucoup de choses que je veux te faire d'abord.” There’s a lot of things i wanna do to you first. He clarified before he kissed the base of your neck then proceeded to suck a hickey there, the light stinging making you whimper.
Once he was satisfied with the mark he left, his fingers hooked onto the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging on them demandingly.
“I want these off.”
You frowned at him as you realized that would leave you fully naked while he’s still completely covered up.
“You’re still fully dressed.” You pointed out, moving your hands to try to unzip the suit. However, he stopped your movements, grabbing your hand in his and bringing it up to kiss it.
“I wanna make the most out of the suit, mon amour.”
You didn’t really know what he meant but it didn’t matter because you trusted him, so you got up and slipped your shorts off, your panties immediately following.
You went back to straddle Charles but his hands immediately found your waist and he guided you into a sitting position different than the previous one. Much to your delight, you were now straddling his thigh, the contact between your clit and the suit material already making it difficult to breath steadily. It clicked in your mind, what Charles wanted and you almost moaned at the thought.
“Ride my thigh, ma belle. Make a mess on the suit for me.” You let out a shaky breath as his hands guided you to move. Your eyes squeezed shut, the amount of pleasure the friction was giving you being quite surprising.
“Non, ma cherie. Keep your eyes on me or I won’t let you cum. D’accord?” Okay? He instructed, one of his hands intertwining with yours. He started moving both your hands down your body until he reached his destination, one of his fingers slipping between your folds to rub your clit as he made sure to keep the rest interlaced with your fingers. You struggled to keep your eyes open as the pleasure intensified but you managed to keep them locked with Charles’ lust-filled ones. The way he was looking at you was sending electric sparks through you veins, effortlessly electrifying you. His eyes seemed to study every reaction you made and he payed attention to every breath you let out and every pleading whimper that slipped past your lips. He had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he watched you ride his thigh, your eyes dark with lust and hooded from the pleasure, your cheeks already red as you struggled to catch your breath.
“Charles.” You whined, fighting the urge to just throw your head back and shut your eyes, letting the pleasure take over you. You found yourself searching for any support, your free hand eventually reaching for Charles chest, clutching onto the red material of the suit as you continued rocking your hips on his thigh.
“Merde, comme j’adore te voire comme ça.” Shit, how i adore seeing you like this. He said, your leg brushing against against his boner repeatedly driving him mad. His moved his hands back to your hips, gripping onto you so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if it left marks, forcing you to move faster. A string of profanities spilled out of your mouth as a result. Meanwhile, his strong gaze was making this experience ten times more erotic. It made you shake with pleasure as his eyes bored into yours with bone-chilling intensity.
“Oh god, i’m gonna-“ A load moan cut you off as your body begged you to release.
“Let it go, baby.” Charles reassured you, placing a kiss onto your chest. That was all it took for your head to fall backwards, the pressure in your stomach exploding as you whimpered in sensitivity. Your whole body shook as you released onto your boyfriend’s clothed thigh.
After that, and without any warning, Charles hoisted you up, turned around and laid you down on the bed while you were still panting, struggling to recover from such an intense orgasm. His lips immediately found yours as he hovered above you. The kiss held so much passion, desperation and lust, his teeth nibbling on your lips, his tongue fighting yours for dominance and pushing to freely discover your mouth. He kissed you like he was desperate to memorize the curve of your lips.
Little did you know that it was just a distraction since Charles wanted to catch you off guard. His plan seemed to have worked perfectly and he was greatly satisfied to hear you gasp when two of his fingers pushed into you without any warning. Your back arched in pleasure as your mind caught onto what was happening.
“Oh my god, Charles.” You moaned against his lips and you literally felt him smirk in satisfaction. He then moved down to l leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest, simultaneously curling his fingers inside of you, rubbing all the right spots that have you whining in ecstasy under him. You reaction encouraged him to make it a point to curl them every few thrusts, loving how you reacted when he did.
Wanting to admire you as usual, Charles sat up a bit straighter, his eyes taking in every curve of your body and settling down onto your pussy where his fingers repeatedly disappeared inside of you.
“So fucking pretty with my fingers inside of you.” He praised, “Do you like it, ma belle? Does it feel good?” He asked in a dazed voice, getting lost in the sight of you so vulnerable under him, writhing on your shared bed as his fingers fucked you.
You, on the other hand, couldn’t muster an answer even if your life depended on it. You cried out his name in response, knowing Charles loved it when you did that. Other people might want clear answers and words, but he lived for the idea that you were too far gone to reply, that he was giving you so much pleasure that your brain couldn’t think of any words other than his name.
Your legs were starting to shake and close shut as another wave of pleasure built up inside of you but Charles was quick to force them apart with his knees while simultaneously increasing the speed he was moving his hand at. You didn’t really expect any less from him, given the fast reactions he was trained to have and all. It took seconds after that for him to feel your walls tightening against his digits. Once again, the pleasure took over your mind and you hand fisted the bedsheet as your moans increased. Another orgasm shook your body and you came for the second time, whimpering Charles’ name over and over.
Through hooded eyes, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off of them with his tongue. He groaned once he realized you were watching, wanting you to know how much he enjoyed tasting you. His little show was the direct cause behind your inability to catch your breath.
“You should get a side job as a professional torturer. You’d do great in that field.” You joked, catching a glimpse of entertainment in his eyes.
“You taste so good, mon amour. Ça me donne l’envie d’en avoir plus.” It makes me want to have more. He suggested, already pushing your legs back apart. However, this time, you were quick to sit up, pushing him back by the shoulders.
“Take the suit off, for fuck’s sake. I might have said i like it but nothing comes close to being as attractive as your naked body.” You told him, giving his lips a small kiss and sliding your hand down to cup his erection, figuring that it might help your case. You were just craving the feeling of his bare skin against yours.
He seemed to be thinking his options through for a few seconds before he finally pulled you closer and breathed the words into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine: “Do it yourself if you are so desperate to see me naked, ma chérie.”
That was all it took for you to push him back so that he was laying with his back against the mattress. You climbed on top of him, your legs on either side of his body, your pussy right on top of crotch.
While it seemed unfair to tease him after the two mind blowing orgasms he gave you, you just couldn’t resist the urge to. You rocked your hips against him and smiled when he whined your name pleadingly.
You started off by kissing him, making sure to keep moving against his cock, feeling how hard he was for you. Then, you bit his lower lip, pulling on it a little before moving down to his neck, kissing it all the way down until you reached the collar of the race suit. You hands rushed to undo all the velcro tape that secured the zipper and once that part was done, you took the zipper’s slider between your teeth and started dragging it down slowly while looking up at Charles who was closely watching you with hunger, his lips parted open and lust written all over his face. You maintained eye contact and continued undressing him.
Once the race suit was completely unzipped, he pulled his arms out of the sleeves and you pulled the item of clothing completely off, leaving him in his boxers. It was a pleasant surprise that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath it like he normally did.
“You’ve taken such good care of me, mon amour, now let me take care of you.” You said, kissing his chest, his abs down his v-line, finally pulling his boxers off when you reached them, freeing his hard length. Charles immediately groaned in relief.
You stroked him a few time, rubbing your thumb along his tip, hearing him gasp as you licked his length all the way down to the base. You looked up to find him already watching you so you locked eyes with him, knowing he loved that.
A euphoric whimper left his mouth as he felt the warmth of your mouth around him, finally promising him a much needed relief.
Charles kept lifting his head off the mattress so he can watch you while you had your lips wrapped around him. You met his eyes right away, taking him deeper as he watched.
“Fuck.” He groaned when you looked up at him through your lashes just as he hit the back of your throat. You started moving your head up and down, basking in the noises Charles was making as you hollowed your cheeks around him, taking as much of him as possible into your mouth while moving your fingers around what you couldn’t take. His hands were forcefully tugging on the sheets, turning his knuckles white as your teeth very lightly grazed his length. Once you noticed his need to hold onto something, you brought your free hand up to one of his, intertwining your fingers. You immediately felt the pressure as he squeezed your hand, swearing left and right when you swirled your tongue on his tip.
No matter how good and natural Charles’ English became, he always referred back to his first language in these kinds of moments. You loved it. You loved hearing him curse in french and you loved it even more when he whispered filthy french remarks in you ear.
“Merde… Mon dieu, y/n. Je vais-“ Shit… My god, y/n. I’m gonna- He moaned, his hips bucking up, pushing himself further down your throat, making your eyes water. You could tell he was close. Seconds later, he finally let go, releasing into your mouth as he panted from his orgasm. You swallowed and sat up, smiling at him after wiping you mouth.
He smiled back and pulled you on top of him, kissing you passionately, but you knew him so well and you could tell there was still something on his mind. Therefore, it didn’t come as no surprise when he started mumbling against your lips.
“Still wanna taste you, chérie.” He said and quickly flipped you over so you were laying on your back. He kneeled by the bed and pulled you down so your legs were dangling off the edge.
“Spread your legs for me.” He asked and you happily complied.
“Si belle comme ça. Je t’adore,” So beautiful like this. I adore you, he kissed your inner thigh, “et j’adore ton corps.” And i adore your body. You felt his kisses turn into soft bites as he inched higher, coming closer to your wet core.
With no further warning, his tongue met your clit, flat against the nerve bundle.
“Spécialement cette partie de ton corps, chérie.” Especially this part of your body, darling. Contrasting his first move, he started giving you small licks, moving his tongue between your clit and your entrance.
“Charles, please.” You whined. Your body was ready to beg Charles for anything more.
“Quoi, mon amour? T’aime m’avoir entre tes jambes? Dis-moi combien tu aime ma langue, et je te donnerai ce que tu veux, chérie.” What, my love? Do you love having me between your legs? Tell me how much you love my tongue and i’ll give you what you want, darling. He told you then went back to teasing you.
“Please… Charles, please. Oh my god.” You moaned as he sucked on your clit.
“Dis-moi, ma belle.” Tell me, my beautiful. He still insisted, not backing down.
“Fuck. I love having you between my legs, i love it so much, i fucking adore your tongue and it makes me feel so fucking good. Fuck, Charles. Please, please do something.”
Having gotten what he wanted, he dived right in, pushing his tongue into you and licking you like he’s hungry for it. Your hands quickly got lost in his hair and he pulled your legs to rest on his shoulders, giving him better access to your pussy.
“So wet for me, ma belle.” Charles spoke against your entrance, sending the vibrations of his voice through your body. You felt his tongue stroking you in all the right places, making you arch your back. Charles’ hands immediately pressed against your stomach, pushing you back down to lay flat against the mattress.
“Un peu de patience, chérie.” A little bit of patience, darling. He taunted, guiding his fingers to rub your clit as his tongue lapped on your wetness.
It took barely any time for your orgasm to build up since you were still sensitive from his teasing and your two previous ones.
“I’m gonna cum.” You warned him before letting go while gasping his name, feeling his comforting hand rub circles on your thigh as you tugged on his hair.
“You’re doing such a good job, mon amour.” He praised and watched you get flustered over his comment. It made him grin.
He then laid beside you, held your hand and waited for you to recover, comfortingly kissing your knuckles and wrist for a couple minutes before pitching in the idea of him fucking you.
“Think you can still handle that?” He asked, pushing back the hair from your damp forehead.
You quickly nodded, desperately wanting to feel him fill you up even after three orgasms.
“T’es completement sûr?” You’re completely sure? He questioned.
Instead of a reply, you pulled him towards you and he quickly got the memo.
Charles got back on top of you, lodging himself between your legs, his mouth covering yours in loving kisses. His hand wrapped around his cock, repeatedly moving his tip from your clit to your entrance teasingly.
“Charles, s’il te plais…” Charles, please… you whined, not feeling appreciative of his teasing.
“Que veux tu, mon amour?” What do you want, my love? He smirked, pushing his tip into you little before moving it back to your clit.
“I want you. Fuck me. Please. I want to feel you filling me up so bad.” You begged in desperation and he thrust into you all at once, making your mouth fall open. He started moving inside of you almost immediately, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him making him feel so desperate for a second release.
“Always so good and warm around me.” He praised, pounding into you with increased spead, his hips meeting yours perfectly with every movement.
He knew your body like the back of his hand. He memorized all your cues, all your curves and all your features, but most importantly, he knew just what leaves you writhing and moaning beneath him. He knew that the spot he was hitting inside of you would make you whimper from the pleasure and he was right, your cries of ecstasy feeling like his own personal reward. He loved his effect on you and how responsive to him you were.
As the pleasure intensified, you decided that he was too far from you, that you needed him closer. Therefore, you reached up for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down closer to your chest.
“I love you so much, Charles.” You breathed the words before meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss he happily welcomed.
“Je t’aime aussi, ma belle.” I love you too, my beautiful. He said the words back between kisses as he made sure to push deeper into you. Your hips subconsciously lifted to meet his thrusts, proving that your bodies were in full sync. The feeling made you release a high pitched moan that got muffled by Charles’ lips.
For many minutes, he moved inside you repeatedly, every thrust feeling better than the previous one and every move bringing you closer to your orgasm. You knew you wouldn’t last long since the sensitivity from your previous releases was still in effect. You were already struggling to steady your legs so you wrapped them around Charles, pulling him even closer if that was possible.
“More, please.” You managed to say, desperate for him to give you everything he has to give.
“More what, babe?” He sounded breathless but you were busy admiring how swollen his lips looked to acknowledge that.
“More everything, Charles.” You rushed then quickly pushed your lips against his again.
He moaned into your mouth and started thrusting faster and harder like you asked, one of his hands moving down your body, pulling one of your legs up by the thigh, giving him better access for a deeper angle as the other limb remained wrapped around him.
He could literally feel the vibrations in your legs as he felt you clenching onto his dick.
“Fuck, i swear i’ll never get used to this.” He groaned then leaned down to kiss your neck, “Tu es si parfaite, mon amour.” You are so perfect, my love. The words were whispered right into your ear, igniting goosebumps on your skin as you felt the pleasure build up. Charles immediately noticed it by how hard your walls were squeezing him.
“You wanna cum, babe?” He asked.
“Yes. Oh god, fuck yes. I don’t think i can hold it, Charles.” You stated the obvious as your body shuddered with pent up pleasure.
“Then let go for me, chérie. Cum all over my cock.”
And you did let go. The intensity of such a strong orgasm blinded you, made you lose control over your body as Charles stilled inside of you. You brain seemed to have forgotten all the words it knew, settling down on repeatedly whining Charles’ name like a broken player, while he lightly caressed your thigh.
He patiently waited for your breathing to go back to normal and for you to open you eyes and when you did, you were met with his caring gaze and a soft smile on his lips.
“Tout va bien?” Is everything okay? He asked. You only nodded in response.
“I don’t want to push you too hard but can you handle one more? I wanna cum inside you so bad.”
You barely thought his words through before accepting. That’s the thing about sex with Charles: too much still never felt like enough.
“Wanna ride you though.” You slurred, suddenly feeling the need for control.
Charles gladly nodded.
“That’s my girl.” He grinned, kissing your temples.
You both then adjusted your positions so he was sat against the headboard with you on top of him, taking his dick inside of you as deep as it can go.
Sure, you were so incredibly sensitive that every move doubled in intensity but you were enjoying these moments of vulnerability with Charles.
You started moving, bouncing on his length and watching as his eyes closed and his head fell back against the headboard, exposing his neck. You leaned in closer and planted small kisses against his jaw. You debated giving him a love bite, calculating if it would fade before the Silverstone grand prix. Giving into your thoughts, you started sucking and biting onto the skin under his ear until you saw a bruise form. You made sure to keep the hickey small so it would fade just in time for his trip to Britain.
Meanwhile, Charles’ hands moved down your back and clawed at you ass as you alternated between bouncing on him and rolling your hips.
“Oh mon dieu. Oui chérie, juste comme ça.” Oh my god. Yes darling, just like that. He whined with a weak voice.
“J'aurais dû te faire supplier comme t’as fait à moi.” I should’ve made you beg like you did with me. You pointed out just to get a reaction out of him.
“Tu crois?” You think? He immediately replied in a challenging tone. You hummed in confirmation.
“Alright then.” His hands firmly gripped your waist, ending your brief moment of power by controlling your movements. The lazy and mellow pace quickly transformed back to a fast and rough one as he moved you faster against his dick, bringing out more frequent moans and whimpers from the both of you. The sensitivity of your clit from the preceding actions was starting to get to you as it rubbed against Charles’ crotch. It even increased as he started thrusting his hips up, making your breath catch in your throat at how deep in your stomach you felt him.
By now, you were feeling too weak to hold yourself up so you just collapsed on his chest, your lips parted and your eyes teary from the overwhelming pleasure. For the fifth time today, you felt your orgasm nearing, only this time it felt way more intense. This wasn’t a wave of pleasure, this was a fucking tsunami.
“I’m gonna cum.”
Charles’ hand briefly left your waist. He raked it through your hair, brushing it behind your ear so he could whisper to you.
“Pas encore, y/n. Attends un peu.” Not yet, y/n. Wait a little.
“What?” You mind was too hazy to comprehend that this was his reaction to you suggesting you make him beg.
“Beg for it, babe.” He smirked through his moans.
You immediately obeyed since you felt like you couldn’t hold it in for long, your shaking legs doing nothing but proving your point.
“Please, Charles, I need to cum so bad, please let me.” The brief sentence was all you managed to say.
“Oh c’mon, ma belle. Je suis certain que tu peux faire mieu que ça.” I’m sure you can do better than that.
“I need to cum so fucking bad. You feel so good so deep inside of me, i really need to cum all over your cock, Charles. Please, i’m begging you. I can’t hold it in anymore.” You blurted out, not understanding how you managed so much words in this state.
You got no reply from Charles. You just noticed him move you faster, making you shake and struggle more. Then you felt him twitch inside of you.
“Let go now.” He finally said and you both came together, cursing and whimpering each other’s names as you finally released. Tears spilled from your eyes as you felt the relief wash over you, the overstimulation making this feel way more sensual and intense than usual.
However, it worried Charles when he felt a teardrop fall onto his chest.
“Look at me, ma belle.” He lifted your chin up so he could see your face.
“Did i take it too far? Was it too much?” He asked with genuine worry once he saw your tear streaked cheeks. He wiped your face while waiting for a response.
“Oh my god, no! Not at all, mon amour. That was the best orgasm of my life.” You gave him a drunken smile and kissed his jaw since you didn’t have the energy to pull yourself up to kiss his lips yet. “It was perfect and you are beyond perfect.”
“You worried me for a second there, ma chérie.” He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close. Your arms imitated his and wrapped around his torso as well while you smiled at his concern.
“Is it a day off today?” You hopefully asked seconds later, desperately craving a lazy day of cuddling with him after so much action this morning.
He hummed in confirmation, resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes.
Your heart did a little dance at his response. You were more than delighted that you had him all to yourself the whole day.
“Then let me just get up and-“ you started to pull yourself up so he can pull out but Charles groaned in objection and held you closer.
“Not yet.” He objected, “This is easier than cleaning ourselves up anyway and it’s comfortable as fuck too.” He smiled.
There wasn’t a single bone in your body that was fighting to resist this offer so you just relaxed against him.
“Merci.” He thanked you for not arguing with him before reaching over to pull the covers on top of you.
The movement caused some friction down where your bodies were still joint together, making you hiss since you felt unable to handle even this slight friction.
“Sorry, babe.” He quickly apologized and covered the two of you up. You sat there in comfortable, much needed silence until he started speaking again.
“I would just like to take a moment to thank all the Ferrari gods for gifting us such a magical suit. It is truly a gift to be appreciated.” You looked up at Charles and saw him dramatically looking up, speaking like he was actually thanking a god of some sort with an adorable, playful grin on his face.
It made you chuckle against his chest and the sound immediately attracted his attention. He looked down at you with an adoring, delighted smile and kissed your forehead with so much emotion if felt like the physical form of “i love you”.
It barely took a couple minutes until the exhaustion of the morning’s events caught up to you two and you fell back asleep in each others’ arms with small, peaceful smiles painted on your lips.
#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc oneshots#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#charles leclerc smut#f1 smut#f1 imagines#f1 oneshots
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Hi can you do one for andrew garfield where he is friends with one of his ex girlfriend. And yn is super uncomfortable with that
I hope this is good enough for you
Uncomfortable
* English is not my first language I apologise
* Triggers: Angst, Angst, Angst and some fluff
Y/N POV
“Love, the guys asked if I wanted to go out with them, can I go?” Andrew walked in, wearing a black shirt and some dark blue pants. Looking like a god. “Yeah sure.” He smiles and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, I made some dinner for you, it’s in the fridge.” He opened his closet and grabbed his dark blue jacket. “I’ll go then, call me if you need something.” He walks over, planting a kiss on my head. “I will, have fun.” “Thank you love, have a lovely evening yourself.” I smiled at him as he walks back downstairs. I heard him grabbing his keys and left. ‘Let’s watch that Christmas movie.’ I hopped of the bed and grabbed a cosy blanket and dragged it downstairs. I throw the blanket on the sofa and warmed my dinner in the microwave. ‘He always thinks about me.’
I was enjoying my alone time when my best friend texted me. ‘What does she needs now?’ I groaned and opened our chat.
Bestie❤️💋: hey, I’m sorry but you need to see this
Bestie❤️💋: sent a video
I clicked on the video *the gif where he is hugging Emma* My heart scattered as I saw them hugging each other. ‘Why does he hangs out so much with his ex.’
Bestie❤️💋: It’s all over the internet, I thought you should know, I’m sorry
Me: is this from today?
Bestie❤️💋: yes a fan saw him today…
Me: thanks for telling me
Bestie❤️💋: always, call me if you want to talk okay?
Me: yeah I will.
I lay my phone down and rubbed my face. ‘I don’t like this…’ I sighed and stopped the movie that was still playing in the background on the tv. ‘Maybe I’m overreacting, Emma moved on and so is Andrew they are just friends. It’s totally normal…right?’
I was in our pool, swimming my thoughts away when Andrew came home but he wasn’t alone… Emma was with him. “Love?” I heard him calling me as I saw him through the window walking in our house with Emma. “Love are you home?” I ducked away, hiding myself in the pool while watching them. “Maybe she’s out?” “No… she would have called me.” She smiles. “Maybe she’s to the store quickly..” he shook his head. “No she still would have texted me if I needed something from the store.” Andrew rubbed his face. “I’m going to check upstairs, I’ll be right back.” She nods and he walks away. She looks around our kitchen, smiling at some pictures. ‘I understand why he spends time with her, I mean look at her.’ “She not upstairs…” Andrew looked a bit stressed. “Maybe she’s at the indoor pool.” ‘Shit.’ I silently crawled out of the pool and run into our sauna. “Love? Are you here?” I heard him pushing the door further open, entering the pool area. “Love?” I peeked out of the sauna, a fake smile on my face. “Hi, you’re back.” He smiles and walks over. “I was worried about you my love, I couldn’t find you.” “Sorry I guess.” He kissed the top of my head. “No it’s okay my love.” He turns around and smiles brightly at Emma. “I found her.” She smiles and waves at me, I returned a friendly wave back. “Emma needs a place to stay for tonight, she had a fight with her boyfriend. I hope you don’t mind she can stay here in our guest bedroom.” ‘Yes I do mind! She’s your ex Andrew!’ “No of course she can stay.” He smiles and quickly kissed me. “Thank you darling.” I smiled but felt a bit uncomfortable with it. “I’m going to prepare the guest bedroom for her.” He said and walked over to her. “Let me show you your room for the night, miss Stone.” She giggles and nods. “Show me the way mr Garfield.” They both walked upstairs as my face fell. ‘His ex is in our house…’
I went to bed as they stayed downstairs. ‘Can’t believe this, he would be angry if my ex was here.’ I scoffed and got in bed, wrapping the blanket up high to my chin. ‘They are perfect for each other, maybe they finally realised they are meant to be.’ I heard them laughing together and I covered my ears, trying to cancel out the noises. ‘I don’t wanna hear it…’ as tears slowly fell down my cheeks.
Andrew POV
“Okay that’s enough for me tonight, if you don’t mind I’m going to join my girlfriend.” “Of course Andrew.” She smiles at me as I stood up. “If you need something just knock on the door.” “I will, thank you and Y/N for letting me stay tonight.” “No problem, we have the space.” “I’m still thankful for it. She so lovely, I understand why you adore her so much.” I shyly smiled “you do?” She nods as she stood up as well. “Yes of course, I adore her to be honest, she’s always so kind to me.” I smiled at her. “She is kind.” She nods and smiles at me. “But I’m also heading to bed, it was a dreadful day today for me.” “Yes of course, it was a rough day for you.” I locked all the doors and together we walked upstairs. “Well good night Emma.” “Good night Andrew.” I entered my bedroom and closed the door softly behind me. I saw her laying completely under the covers, hiding herself. I smiled and pulled off my shirt and pants. I carefully slipped next to her in bed and moved under the covers. Something wasn’t right as she lay so still with her back turned to me. “Love?” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around her waist, as I did that I moved closer to her, seeing her wet cheeks. “My love, what happened.” I immediately wiped away her tears as she ducks into my chest, breaking down. “Darling…” I kissed her head and rubbed her back as she sobbed into my chest. “I’m here, darling it’s okay.” Her fingers pressed into my bare skin as she held me close, afraid I would leave her. “It’s okay.” I kissed multiple times the crown of her head as she wet my chest.
She calmed down a bit but tears where still falling now and then down her cheeks, I immediately wiped them away if I saw them running down her face. “Love… what made you so sad.” “Do you love me?” Her voice sounded hoarse and broken as she asked me an question that hurt me. ‘Do you love me…’ “of course I love you my love.” ‘ I neglected her, she doesn’t feel loved, she probably doesn’t want me anymore…’ she sniffs and nuzzled her head to my collarbone. “Y-You don’t feel loved? You feel like I don’t love you?” I went with my fingers through her hair, scraping her scalp. She carefully looks up, she’s cried a lot as her beautiful eyes where bloodshot and swollen, Her cheeks were glossy and the tip of her noise was red. “I don’t know.” My heart broke in million pieces. I carefully cupped one side of her face, wiping the new tears away. “My love, I’m so sorry you feel like I don’t love you enough…but believe me I’m deeply in love with you.” She looks away and a single tear fell down my cheek. “Please tell me, why you feel like this…it pains me to see you like this…darling.” My voice cracked as my eyes became watery. Her lip trembles and started to fidget with my other hand. “I-I… I think you’re still in love with Emma.” “Emma?” She nods and hides her face in my neck, feeling ashamed of herself. “Darling, don’t hide yourself please, don’t be ashamed.” I slowly pulled her away from my neck. “Look at me..” my lip trembled as tears run down her cheeks again. “I’m in love with you, I want you. You’re the one I want… I’m sorry if I made you feel like this..” tears were falling down on my face. “I’m only trying to be a good friend and I didn’t realise that I hurt you… I’m sorry” she wraps her arms around me, hugging me and I cried into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
She went with her hand through my hair, trying to calm me down. “Please don’t leave me, I’m sorry.” “I’m not leaving you.” Her voice was muffled as she kissed my head. I pulled her closer to me, holding her a bit firmer. “I’m sorry love.” I looked up at her, her beautiful eyes looked at me and smiled sadly at me. “I’m sorry as well, I just… I just felt so uncomfortable with you being so close with her and she’s so perfect for you and…” I kissed her softly, shutting her up. Her hands moved to my shoulders, softly squeezing them as I deepened the kiss. “Baby your perfect, I promise I only want you.” She shyly smiles. “Really?” I nodded and wiped some hair out of her face. “Really, you’re so beautiful, even when you are covered in tears.” She cracked a smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about it, that it could make you uncomfortable.” “I’m sorry as well for making you sad.” I shook my head. “No don’t apologise for this, never apologise for sharing you feelings with me.” She grabbed my hand that lay on her cheek. “I love you Andrew.” As she softly squeezed in my hand. I smiled at her and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I love you darling.” She wrapped her legs and arms around me, cuddling me. “I make sure you’re more happy, I’ll hang out a bit lesser with her, even tho she totally adores you.” Her head peeked up. “She does.” “Yeah she’s bugging me for awhile now when I’m going to ask you to be my wife.” I said with a awkward chuckle. “She needs to bug you more then, I’m waiting for awhile now.” I laughed and hugged her close. “You have to wait a little bit longer my love but I promise I will ask you but not now, you deserve way more better than this, here laying in this bed after we cried.” She giggles against my chest. “I can’t wait then mr Garfield.” “Me neither soon to be mrs Garfield.”
#andrew garfield imagine#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield x reader#andrew x reader#marvel imagine#marvel x you#marvel x reader#fluff imagine#x you fluff#x y/n fluff#x you angst#angst imagine#angst with a happy ending#character x you#reader x crush#spiderman x reader#reader x character#character x reader#peter parker x reader#x reader#sad fanfiction#y/n#soft fluff
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