#and by the time i realized i should go back and check i was mostly done lmao
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Hellooo~ may I know if you will make a part 2 for your story 'Their First Love'?
Their First Love Pt. 2 [Natasha]
Summary : The talk Natasha has been looking for, to apologize and to finally talk to you
Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader
Warningv: Crying
Word Count : 2,876
{THEIR FIRST LOVE PT. 1}
No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know
It's been weeks since you two broke up—well, not actually since you two aren't a couple—let's just say “since she busted you,” and it still bothers you.
Did you accept her decision? Yes, and you respect it, but did you move on or stop wondering about things? No, definitely not. The thoughts and questions keep you awake every night and mostly distract you from your work.
You kept asking yourself why she chose him. Am I not enough? Or am I doing too much that drives her away? Is there something wrong with me? Or maybe I did something wrong?
The questions keep coming, but there's only one that's imprinted in your head, and it never leaves your mind since you realize it. It's her hair.
You once asked her, "Why do you keep your hair red? You're a spy; you should be undercover, not seen.” At that time, all she said to me was, “Because I wanted my loved ones to always locate me and remember me in the event that they did forget me or split up with me, as winter always follows autumn.
That's when you realize that you're not hers; Bucky is and will always be the winter that always follows Autumn, and you feel such a fool believing that you could replace or at least be enough to be at Bucky's level in her heart.
But at least you try and come close, or at least you thought, but the thing is, what matters is what makes her happy, and she is happy with him; that is what matters to you, right?
“Hey, hey, earth, to Y/N, are you there? ”You snap out of your thoughts when Jess taps your right check, so you look at her with a confused look.
“What? ....sorry what were you saying? ”You asked, gathering yourself and coughing to cover your embarrassment in front of Jess.
“I said, get back to her.” You frown at her, and she giggles, laying her upper body on the couch back while you're in your swivel chair and big table in your office.
“I don't get it,” you mumble, enough for her to hear, and she shakes her head and rolls her eyes with an amusing smile, then puts her iced coffee down.
“Oh my god, Y/N, you're so easy to read, or at least on my side... You're thinking, and I know it involves ‘Natasha’ so just pick up your phone, dial her number and call her, or text her,” Jess said, throwing you your phone. She's been playing some games. You thankfully catch it because if you didn't, hell, you're going to kill Jess if that happens.
“No, she chose him, Jess, not me, so I’m not going to call or text her like a puppy hot on her tail.” You put your phone in your pocket, standing up, seeing it's already 10 and the wedding will start in an hour, and you can't be late.
“Now shut up, and we need to go because we will be late,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes at you, but reciprocates and follows down the garage, getting in your own car, and so does she, and starts the 40-minute drive to the venue.
On the other side, Natasha has been sulking in her bed for weeks now; she has no energy to do anything, and the only thing that keeps her away from bed is going to the bathroom, bar, or club. Other than that, she's locked up in her room; even Bucky can't even enter.
Since Natasha saw you that day, she can't help but stalk you. When you go to a cafe with her, when you go shopping with her, when you stroll with her, everywhere you go, she's there, getting jealous and feeling regret seeing you with her, and she wishes it was her who's by your side at those moments and not her until she saw you with her at the jewelry shop and decided to approach you or just eavesdrop.
But once she came close, she stopped dead in her tracks. Hearing those words coming out of your mouth, “This is perfect for a wedding band," she quickly turned around and left the mall. You're buying a wedding band with her; were you getting married with her that fast? She questions herself when she locks herself in her room, crying.
And Bucky heard her crying, and since then, he's been worrying about Nat. As much as he wants to help her and be by her side, he knows forcing her to do something or just go against her will be no better for the both of them, so he constantly knocks on her door, asking if she's okay, even asking F.R.I.D.A.Y. about her, leaving food and a note in front of her door.
But today, he had enough, and he knows the only person who can help Natasha, so he's on his way to have a little talk with you.
And when he gets the information that you're on your way to the wedding, he quickly flies off, overspeeding, and goes to a different route to catch up with you, and when he does, he quickly drifts to block your car with his
But you almost hit him if you didn't hit the break quickly. You scoff and get out of the car when you see Bucky getting out of his car.
“Long time, no see, Mr. Barnes,” you sass at him, folding your arm in front of you and letting him approach you.
“You need to come with me,” he's in his stoic expression, and he proceeds to grab your arm, but you back away and swat his hand, and that's when Jess got to you, worried in her eyes.
“Oh my god, hey, watch where you're going; you can't just stop people like that,” Jess shouts at him, but you stop her with your hand when she's going to attack him.
“Get in your car and go to the venue; I’ll be there in a few.” She wanted to argue, but you glared at her, so she nodded.
“Be careful.” With that, she drives off, leaving you and Bucky alone on the side of the road, and thankfully, there's not much of a car passing by.
“What do you need, Barnes? ”You stand tall, seeing him searching for the right word.
“I—you need to come with me; I wanted to show you something,” he said calmly, but you raised your one eyebrow at him.
“And why would I need to come with you? I barely know you; I don't know your intention; you could kill me or something if I come with you.” Bucky sighs, closing his eyes, then looks back at you, and you see the desperation in his eyes.
“If you're that desperate for me to come with you, why not tell me the reason? Cause I have somewhere to be.” Bucky is annoyed, yes, but he stays calm for Natasha's sake.
“It's Nat; she needs you. I know it sounds crazy, but you're the one she wants, the one she loved and still loves. She needs you, Y/N.” You stay motionless and emotionless; you just scoff at him and roll your eyes at him.
“That's funny, Barnes; she doesn't need me; she has you; you're the one she loves, not me; she chose you. Remember? ”You unfold your arms and take a step towards him, and you give him a sarcastic smile.
“You won Barnes; she's all yours, so whatever shit what's happening to the both of you, I don't care, so don't drag me into your shits,” you said, and you turned around to your car so you could arrive at the wedding just in time, but before you could reach your car handle, he took your arm and turned you around.
“She really needs you, ok... Yes, maybe I’m the one she chose before, but that doesn't mean I still have her heart.” Bucky sighs, not wanting to be the one saying this to you, but he guesses he doesn't have any choice.
“Natasha suffers enough; she gets confused when it comes to these feelings, making her go back and choose the things she’s familiar with, meaning getting back to me. She longs for the short times she has before, where our love gets ripped away by the organization we're in, making her choose the wrong decision.” It hurts him to admit that the love of his life doesn't love her anymore, but he knows that seeing her happy in your arms is better than seeing her forcing herself to be happy with him.
“She loves you so much, Y/N. She may have confused her emotions, but her love for you is already carved in her heart.” Then suddenly his phone vibrated, and seeing that it's an emergency mission, he smiled at you and reached for his back pocket.
“She’s you're Y/N; she always had been.” Then he took your hand and put the key in it.
"It's her key…..she really needs you.” He gives you a small, sad smile, then turns around and gets in his car, then drives off.
“You just roll your eyes and get in your car, hooking the key he gave you in the rearview mirror, and drive off.
Natasha sighs and sits up on the bed, realizing that sulking, being lazy, and sleeping with strangers will get her nowhere, so she stands up and takes a shower, leaving the man still sleeping on her bed. He was supposed to leave hours ago, but Natasha doesn't know what happened to her when she let him sleep here on her bed. All she knows is that his hold feels like your arms, or maybe she just thought about it.
Showers were taken longer than they usually are, but she did have a decent shower and change into fresh, comfy clothes, a loose shirt, and sweatpants, putting on a little makeup so her face wasn't as pale as it looked, and that's when she heard a knock on her door, so she groans and goes out of the bathroom, seeing the man in her bed is already awake.
“Go get dressed and get outta here,” she said, emotionless, and another knock again.
“I’m ok, Bucky, you don't have.” She stopped when the person knocked, got in, and looked around until her eyes landed on Natasha and the man who's getting dressed.
And Natasha is shocked to see the one person she least expects to knock on her door and come in, but when she pinches her arm and it hurts, she knows it's real. It's you, standing in your white, above-the-knee-fitted formal dress.
Her heart fluttered, and the butterflies were dancing around her stomach. Her joy was on top of the mountain. She saw you again, and you're the one who came to her.
"Guess, I came here for nothing. Sorry for interrupting. Have a good day.” With that, you quickly shut the door shut, scoffing at yourself, thinking you shouldn't have listened to Bucky.
On the other hand, Natasha was confused, but when she realized what was happening, she quickly looked at the man who's putting his pants on and looked at herself in the mirror, a hickey on her neck and wet hair.
“Shit shit shit,” she cursed and quickly ran behind you to explain.
"Y/N, wait, please, let me explain.” She then took your arm, stopping you and turning you around.
“Explain to me that you're doing fine and fucking other people because you and Bucky didn't work out? Don't worry, I get it. I shouldn't have listened to your ex. Now I have wasted my time. I should probably go so you two can continue and I can catch up to the wedding. Have a good day, okay? ”Natasha was confused, and she didn't catch up with what you said, and whatever was on her mind was only Bucky, listen, continue, and Wedding, ‘Were you marrying her today? ’
“Wait what? No, no, no, wait, hold on,” she said, then again stopped you and blocked your way to the elevator.
"First, what Bucky told you; second, that man meant nothing, I swear; and third, the wedding? At what wedding were you getting married? Now? With her? ”You roll your eyes at her, then the man gets out of her room and walks past you two, and he kisses her on the head, making Natasha cringe and try to pat off the kiss he gave her.
“Last night was amazing; maybe we could go out sometimes.” This makes Natasha feel disgusted, and of course you heard it, so you roll your eyes and go around Natasha.
“Get a room, for god sake,” you say, then stand tall, waiting for the elevator after you press down.
“You're just jealous,” he spat back, and Natasha slapped him hard.
“Trust me, I’m not, and please make sure your dick is properly placed in those pants, and please wear underwear for god sake.” Then Natasha pushed him to the stairs, just to get him out of here.
“Leave now or else,” she said with gritted teeth, motioning her thumb from her left neck to her right, and he gulped, knowing she's capable of killing him without hesitation, and that's when the elevator door opened with a ding.
"Well, nice seeing you.” You enter the elevator, and Natasha quickly stops the elevator door and gets in. She was supposed to drag you out so you two could properly talk, but the door closed before she could walk out with you.
“Ok, ok,” Natasha sighs, and she turns around to look at you, where she finds you looking down on your phone, texting someone.
"Hey,” she tried to get your attention, but you didn't budge, so she took your phone and turned it off.
“What! ”You sigh with annoyance, looking up at her.
“Can you listen to me, please? ”Natasha begs, and you pinch the bridge of your nose and press the open door button, but Natasha unpresses it and stops the elevator, putting it into emergency
“You listen whether you like it or not.” You then press your back against the wall. Not much of a choice, you just stayed silent, your hand inside your pocket.
“Thank you,” Natasha then sighs, getting nervous, and this is not what she imagines getting nervous for the first time.
“Ok, first, I’ll tell the truth. Yes, we had sex last night, and yes, he slept the night in my room, and yes, I’ve slept with a couple strangers the past few days or weeks, but I swear it means nothing.” You then cross your arm in front and look at her in the eyes; that made her feel so small.
“It's a one-night stand, nothing else, and for Bucky, well, he broke up with me. Why? Well, he said that my heart doesn't belong to him anymore; it belongs to someone; that someone's you, and he's right.” Natasha wants to take your hand, but it's hidden, so she rests her right hand on your arm.
“When he left, that's when I realized that I want you, that I love you, that when I’m looking for the future, you're there, you're always on my plan, on my dreams in every single one of them, and I also realized that I was being unfair to you when I just dropped you out and to Bucky when I’m still clinging to my past, where I’m too familiar and afraid to enter something new again, something I’m not familiar with, something I’m not good at, and I’m sorry for that.” tears running down her cheeks while she bites her bottom lips to suppress her subs, then she kneels before you, clinging to your right leg.
“Please forgive me. I-I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” Natasha can't help but sob and cry on your thigh.
“Please believe me, I tried to contact you, or... or co-come see you... I tried.” Natasha keeps repeating the same word over and over again.
“Get up,” but Natasha didn't; her knees were weak.
"Romanoff, get the fuck up; you're making yourself look foolish.” You nudge her gently, but she shakes her head.
“Forgive me, please forgive me, please come back.” You sigh and palm your forehead, careful not to ruin your makeup.
“I don't know, Ok, I am moving forward, so, I don't know it, Romanoff, so get up and fix yourself; I need to go and catch up on a wedding.” Then you simply get away from her and pull off the emergency button and help Natasha on her feet, then wipe her tear with your handkerchief, making Natasha lean on your touch.
“I’ll contact you,” you whisper, and then the door opens, so you exit the elevator, go out to take your car, and drive to the venue.
As much as you want to be hard and cold to Natasha, there's always part of you that makes you weaker around her; she always makes your guard down and makes you vulnerable; you feel safe around her, the feeling you've been craving since you were little, and it took every willpower you have to be tough and cold-hearted towards her.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanova#natasha x reader#natasha x you#natalia alianovna romanova#marvel black widow#black widow 2021#black widow#natalia romanova#natasha x y/n#natasha alianovna romanova#natasha marvel#natasha#natasha romanov#mcu marvel avengers#marvel mcu#mcu
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'Oh, yes?' said Otto, still advancing. 'You think I am a it? Vell, let me act like an it?'
#terry pratchett#discworld#the truth#otto von chriek#william de worde#the coloring here is wild because i vaguely remember there were candles on that scene#and by the time i realized i should go back and check i was mostly done lmao#anyway this scene is so sexy#if you see any typos no you didn't
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WAIT HEAD IN THE HANDS 🦅🦅
#augusta fetches a Very Pretty Dowry from the family she marries into + this is the Big reason her father weds her off so young#but. 🧍🏻♀️ i think another part of it is that her magic is genuinely stifled in their homeland. the cold is what killed her mom when she#first came there + augusta struggles with it too. there are some benefits to having draconic blood in the Dragoncursed Lands but overall#it's mostly cons 🍻😔 so it's a two for one deal. mister rustrian gets ???#a lot of money? some magical artefact that beats the fog back?? Something. and also his daughter gets to Leave and hone in her magic#so she can one day come back and put an end to the curse after all. easy peasy!#but then at the wedding he sees the necklace the family is going to regale her with + arcana checks that shit#and BAM.. it is the tf2 sapper in disguise! so he tries to call the wedding off because 😐 this was the Opposite of the point in marrying#her off tf!! but Augusta hates him and is lost in the sauce of being Free of Him + simultaneously lost in the sauce of being in touch#with her full mana pool for the first time in her life. so the rage kinda goes crazy and blam blam your father has been imploded.. magic#missile lvl 6 on his ass or something ridiculous#and the In-Laws are like ... 👁️👄👁️.. 👁️🫦👁️ leash this beast IMMEDIATELY we need her magic NOWWWWWW#and so began augusta's 20 years of possession in baldur's gate or whateva 😔🦅#i realized this Could Not Happen in waterdeep because. well. if raw and unbridled magic is what you were after gale and all of his#colleagues are Right There 🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️🧍🏻♀️ ... she has to become baldurian and elturian or Something.. but on principle she Cannot be#waterdhavian 🦅 she should be from that one place that is trying to be like waterdeep but the one other city has claimed the local waterdeep#title so they just have to seethe abt it 😆#🦖
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WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)
summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started
wordcount: 2.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk
notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣
You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.
There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.
But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.
With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.
While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.
With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘
You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.
You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.
You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.
Lando Norris.
Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.
”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“
”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.
”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“
He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“
You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.
”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“
Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?
”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“
”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“
With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.
”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“
You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“
You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.
”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“
”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“
Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.
”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“
You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.
”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“
”I..I do.“
”Show me.“
”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“
Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.
”Show me your toys, baby.“
You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.
By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.
You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.
You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“
”Tell me about it.“
”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“
”I bet I could get you there faster.“
That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.
”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“
You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.
”What else do you have in there?“
”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.
”You know what this is for, Lando?“
”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“
You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.
”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“
”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“
Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.
”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“
You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“
Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.
You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.
”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“
”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“
”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“
With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.
”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“
You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“
With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“
While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.
When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.
“You feeling better now?“
“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“
“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“
“Are you in London?“
He hummed.
“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“
“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris x y/n#lando x reader#lando norris one shot#lando imagine#lando norris smut#smut#Lando
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Happiness is a butterfly
Fernando Alonso x Reader
Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.
Word count: 6.4k
Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.
Hope it's to your liking, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.
Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.
Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.
It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.
You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.
Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.
That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.
“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.
“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.
Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.
“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.
“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”
“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”
You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.
Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.
“You came to the party?” You asked.
“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”
“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.
You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.
“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”
“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”
He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.
When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.
“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.
“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.”
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.
“You know you are stunning.”
“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”
“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.
“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”
“I can’t.”
“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.
“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.
“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.
“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.
“Then don’t.”
That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.
“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.
Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.
“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.
You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.
Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.
“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.
He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.
“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.
He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.
“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.
And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.
And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.
Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.
But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.
You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.
There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.
Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.
You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.
“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.
“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.
You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.
“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.
“Hm, I’m not sure.”
“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.
“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.
“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”
You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.
You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.
Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.
Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.
As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.
Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.
“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”
“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.
“Thank you”
He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.
You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.
“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.
“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.
“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.
He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.
And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.
“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.
“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”
You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.
“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”
With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes.
When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.
“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.
He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.
You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.
“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”
You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.
“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”
“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”
“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”
That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.
“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”
“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.
“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.
“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.
There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.
“Please let us just talk about it-”
“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.
“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.
You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.
“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”
“I don’t want you.”
“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”
The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.
When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.
You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.
“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”
His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.
And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.
He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.
The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.
By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.
It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.
“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.
A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.
“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.
“No,” Somebody said, somberly.
“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.
When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.
Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.
“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”
“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”
“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.
The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.
“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”
“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.
You had to be fine.
“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”
He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.
On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.
But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.
By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.
Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.
“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.
“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”
“I will not leave.”
Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.
After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.
“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.
“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.
“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.
“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”
She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.
As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.
The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.
Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.
His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.
He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.
“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.
“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.
“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.
“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”
“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.
“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.
“I know.”
He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.
“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.
“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.
Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.
Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.
You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.
He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.
After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.
In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.
Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.
“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.
He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.
It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.
Only you didn’t.
You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.
“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”
“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”
“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.
“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”
“But-”
“I’ll pay for it.”
That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.
He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.
When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.
“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.
As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”
He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.
“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”
He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.
He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.
Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.
As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.
“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.
“She woke up!”
Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.
“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.
Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.
He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.
Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.
And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.
“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”
“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.
When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.
“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”
You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso#formula one#Spotify
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Full Set- M. Sturniolo
pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo
classification: mostly fluff
warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)
summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.
—
“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.
You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.
When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”
She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.
In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”
The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”
What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’
“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.
“Do you think we can add more glitter?”
—
After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.
As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.
Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.
For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.
You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:
@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!
Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:
@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!
@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!
He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.
—
The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.
When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.
Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.
You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.
“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.
“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.
“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.
“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.
“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”
Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.
“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.
Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.
Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.
“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she���s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.
“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.
“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.
“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.
“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.
“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.
As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.
While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”
You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.
—
The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.
“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.
“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’
You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.
Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.
To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.
You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.
The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.
Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”
“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.
“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.
“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.
Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”
—
When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.
When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.
It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.
Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:
@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!
‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:
@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)
What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.
@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!
The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.
Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.
“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.
“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.
“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”
You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.
“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.
“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.
—
The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.
While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.
When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?
“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.
Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.
He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.
Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.
Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.
—
For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.
Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.
Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.
When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.
He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.
“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.
“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.
—
When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.
You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.
“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.
“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”
“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.
Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.
Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”
His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.
Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.
“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.
“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.
“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.
There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.
“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.
“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.
You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.
—
MASTERLIST
A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#matt x reader#Matthew sturniolo x reader#Matthew sturniolo x y/n
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I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3
It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited.
The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's.
Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober.
The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner.
He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.
He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention.
He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.
After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon.
He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it.
He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down.
Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open.
Oh. That's how he knows the van.
Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply."
"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone."
Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?"
Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay."
"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup."
"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school."
"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified.
"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit."
"And why do you want to call her?"
Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house."
Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?"
"Her."
He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move.
Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer.
"Hello?"
Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve."
"Oh, Nancy is currently-"
"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door."
Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?"
"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up.
Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."
Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?"
Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?"
Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole."
Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister."
"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably.
Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died.
Eddie nods his head. “Right.”
Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.”
Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out.
Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back.
He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.
“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.”
Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?”
Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing."
Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”
Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.”
He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand.
“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.”
Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?”
Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.”
Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together.
Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery.
“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around.
Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone.
Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.”
Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”
Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.”
“Why’s that?”
Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.”
Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk.
He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.”
“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.
Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses.
“Why not?”
“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.”
There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this.
“Run away with me.”
Steve head slowly comes up. “What?”
Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in.
The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.”
Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.”
Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.”
Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.”
He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.”
Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?”
“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit.
Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief.
Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.”
“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?”
“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”
Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.”
It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.”
“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.”
“And he’d kill you if you ever left.”
Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.”
Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and-
Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.”
Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin.
The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?”
Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while.
He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?”
Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.”
Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.”
Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?”
“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile.
“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...”
“Maybe?” Eddie prompts.
Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.”
“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...”
“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.”
“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly.
Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.”
“Nine,” Steve says immediately.
“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees.
“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together.
“Six,” Eddie exhales.
“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head.
“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer.
“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine.
“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together.
“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life.
He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating.
The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed.
Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks.
Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.”
Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.”
He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with.
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recharge, suguru geto
a/n: based off a request from a friend. hope you like this bae <3. (not proofread!)
content: suguru x reader. suguru’s clingy. fluff.
wc: 1.1k
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
suguru comes home late at night. stress evident on his face as you try to greet him like you usually do but he’s dismissive. not even a proper peck and he’s pulling away from you and going straight to the bedroom.
it hurts him more than it hurts you when he behaves like this. he wishes he could talk to you but he’d just end up breaking down and he’s tired of having you see him like this. he should be strong for you, shouldn’t he? you’re not in this relationship to take care of him constantly and get nothing in return. so he pushes you away.
he hopes you understand why he’s being so distant. and you guess he wants his space so you give it to him. but you also can’t just leave him alone so you tread carefully. you know he think he’s being selfish but you don’t mind it. he doesn’t realize it but he’s been there for you countless times taking care of you and being patient with you when all you want to do was rot in your apartment. so you try to do the same.
you give him his space. let him sleep alone in your shared bedroom. he lays in bed waiting for you to join him but he doesn’t know how to ask for it after he was so dismissive with you earlier. he huffs annoyed at himself and falls asleep yearning for your warmth.
the sun shining brightly through the opened curtains wake him up. absentmindedly he reaches out to hide his face in your neck but you’re not there. your side of the bed untouched and cold. eyebrows furrowed he walks out of the bedroom but you’re nowhere to be found. a throw blanket laid across the couch confirming his suspicions that you let him sleep alone. i mean he kinda asked for it, didn’t he? shit. did he really hurt you?
just as he’s about to grab his phone to call you he hears the jingle of keys unlocking the door. a shiver of relief runs over his body and he lays back in bed before you can see him. you set the groceries on the countertop and go into your bedroom to check if suguru’s woken up yet.
“suguru,” you softly call out his name. his heart clenches. he wishes you’d come over and touch him so he could use his sleepy state as an excuse to pull you closer. “hmm,” he groans. and when you finally lean down and lightly brush his bangs off his face he nuzzles his cheek into your palms.
you soft callouses kissing his cheeks. your fingers rub over his skin softly. and he’s so happy to feel your touch. “wake up, sleepyhead. let’s eat something.” you whisper planting a kiss near his ear.
you feel his arms around as you flip dora cakes. “feeling better?” you ask him. instead of replying he just nuzzles his nose into your neck causing you to slip out a sweet giggle. he covers the skin of your shoulder in kisses. his hands slip under your tank, scratching lightly at your abdomen.
he stays attached to your back as you try to move around the kitchen to plate your breakfast. you wonder what changed overnight to have him this clingy but frankly you don’t mind it. it’s better than him shutting you out.
“suguru,” you huff playfully but he doesn’t let go. he clicks his tongue in disagreement when you separate your food in two plates. “what?” you turn your head slightly to look at him. “same plate.” his voice muffled as he speaks into your neck. “okay,” you smile.
you’re so beautiful he thinks. his heart skips a beat at the way your smile enhances your features even more. he never wants to make you sad.
you cut up a piece and bring it up to his mouth, tease him with the food every time he opens his mouth. he grabs your hand to keep it still and takes a bite. you both take turns feeding each other sometimes letting out breathy laughs but mostly silently gazing in to each other’s eyes filled with love.
he spends the day crowding your space. his head in your lap as you answer emails on your laptop. he turns in your lap so he can face your stomach. his finger moves under your top pulling it higher and he pokes into your bellybutton and giggles when you let out yelp. he places a few kisses on the expanse of your exposed skin. from the left side of your hips to the right covered in his love. he even follows you the bathroom and waits outside until you’re done.
he grabs your face as soon as your out and places a desperate kiss on your lips. you kiss him back with the same fervor. you’re both walking back until he falls onto the bed pulling you with him and you break apart with a laugh. your head tipped back and laughing has him laughing as well. he moves in closer as you both quiet down.
“i’m sorry for last night,” he starts. “suguru, it’s o-“ you’re about to say until he places a finger onto your lips to stop you from talking. “no baby. it’s not okay. you should call me out if i’m being an asshole, okay? please baby. i wanna be better for you.” he tells you. and you just smile against his lips “okay, sugi. next time you don’t kiss me when you come in thru the door you’re getting a smack on your ass.” you joke. “i’m serious darling,” he says. “and don’t ever leave me alone in bed. and don’t sleep out on the couch if it’s not with me.”
“yes sir,” you tease making him smile. having had enough of your teasing he grabs your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. he comes in close and you ready yourself for a kiss until you feel his other hand tickling your sides and your burst out of laughing.
you manage to free your hands from his grasp and try to stop him “okay stop okay okay,” you say between laughs. he places kisses under your ear and over you jaw and neck as as you calm down from your laughing fit
“i love you. thank you for keeping up with me,” he tells you seriously. “i love you too, suguru.” you respond with a smile. and a beat later you whisper, “the sex makes it worth it,” eliciting a loud laugh from him.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
#✎ luna.writes#jjk#jjk x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#jjk fluff#jjk fic#suguru geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto#jjk geto#geto x reader#jujutsu geto#suguru#suguru fluff#geto fluff#suguru geto x you#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru x you#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#suguru getou#geto
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Home Improvements
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader
Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.
Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.
Words | 1.8 k
Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)
You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water.
When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it.
“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate.
“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time.
You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure.
“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.
“Yeah?”
“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him.
“A little, I guess.” He shrugged.
“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile.
“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs.
“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along.
“Good point. Any other suggestions?”
“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up.
There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off.
You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones.
“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though.
“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile.
“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat.
“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance.
“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be.
“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness.
“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust.
When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side.
“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing.
“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion.
Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.
“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.”
“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier.
“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release.
“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you.
“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.”
“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge.
“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself.
“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you.
He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again.
When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless.
“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh.
I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3
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The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."
“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"
You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).
Word Count: 5.6K
A/N: Well, hello there!
I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!
Subject: I think I have a Virus?
12:50 AM (10 min ago)
Hey Sugar,
I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.
Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.
Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant.
(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)
Thanks,
Joel Miller
Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group
(512) 123-4567
Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?
1 AM (0 seconds ago)
Good Evening Mr. Miller,
I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".
Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.
Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.
Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.
Goodnight!
IT Specialist 0926,
IT Department, Miller Construction Group
(512) 765-4321
"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."
Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.
It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it.
"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"
"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."
"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"
"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."
"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"
Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.
Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"
You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.
"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."
She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.
"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."
She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"
A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often. Way too often.
[My laptop won't turn on.] Did you charge it? Try doing that first.
[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?] Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.
[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?] It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.] Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret. [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.] Uh, sure Mr. Miller.
You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again. There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).
After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.
Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...
Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly. Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns...
Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all. At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right. Wants? What kind of a file name is that?
The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.
Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.
Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.
Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)
Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)
You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.
Wants.
What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.
What the fuck did I just read?
“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”
You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list…
Kiss her in the rain.
Make love in my truck as she rides me.
Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.
Marathon sex
Eat her out as she works at her desk.
No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right. I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself. Who would want someone so pathetic as me?
It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?
You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.
There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?
Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.
"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."
"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"
"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"
As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.
After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.
It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.
You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring. It's just a coincidence, right?
��Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”
“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.
You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”
You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”
“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”
“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”
“Joel.”
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”
“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”
“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“
He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“
"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"
"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"
"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."
"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.
"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."
Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"
"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"
"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"
How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother. Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...
Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"
“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.
"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."
“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"
You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”
Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“
“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”
“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”
“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”
“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”
“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“
You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—
“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”
“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”
Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”
That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”
He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”
You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.
"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."
Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."
A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.
"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."
He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."
A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.
"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.
You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.
"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."
He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."
You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"
"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."
You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.
As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.
As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.
Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.
"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."
He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"
You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"
Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"
A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."
The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.
Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115
For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs
All dividers by @saradika-graphics
#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#tlou hbo#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfic
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Fancy cozy
soft mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader
Nesting Masterlist
summary: You wanted a cozy celebration of New Year's and your husband happily provides.
warnings: none
This is pure fluff and coziness. Written for the Nesting universe as a result of this poll.
Happy New Year to you all!
Happy with the stack of food he managed to fit on the small coffee table, Steve surveyed the cozy nest he prepared for the two of you on the couch in the living room. Fluffy blankets at hand, pillows, all the remote controls. The lights were twinkling on the big Christmas tree, as well on the curtains along the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He was a confident man in general and this time Steve was quite certain he fit your request for a cushy New Year’s Eve perfectly.
When he turned at the sound of your soft footsteps nearing, however, his confidence wobbled for a second.
You paused mid step as you met Steve’s eyes and recognized a flash of surprise in his blue irises. It took you a moment to realize what shocked him. But as Steve’s gaze didn’t slide over you, instead roaming around your head, it dawned on you.
You grinned, quite happy that you managed to surprise him in any way. Steve was always so sure of himself when it came to you and perceiving your needs (and truthfully, ninety nine percent of the time he was right). He predicted them, discovered them, and always remembered the smallest details.
“What?” You shrugged when he kept staring at you and sauntered towards him with a sassy bounce to your step - so much reminiscing of the one you had when you first met Steve that one crazy weekend over a year ago.
“I said I want a cozy New Year’s Eve celebration,” you pointed at the soft, comfy pajamas you wore, “but it’s still a special occasion celebration, after all. A bit of fancy is a must.”
Hence your full-on, quite heavy makeup and jewelry shining around your neck and in your ears.
When Steve asked what you’d like to do for New Year’s, you revealed you dreamt of just staying at home and being together. Without any fuss. Without any special preparations. There were options of some fancy parties, as well more close-knit ones (Natasha and Yelena were throwing a party); or journeys across the globe, if you wished.
As much as it tempted you to see the snowy glory of the lavish five star hotel in Karlovy Vary where Steve proposed to take you, you didn’t feel like going anywhere. Not this year, at least.
You were mostly tired and overstimulated. Freshly after loud, full-family holiday celebrations, still learning how to be a mom of a newborn, how to juggle all these activities and responsibilities. You really just wanted some peace and quiet.
But it didn’t mean you weren’t going to be a tiny bit fancy on New Year’s Eve.
Even if it was a funny clashing result of styles.
Steve expected to see you in pjs, but not the smokey eye with glitter and false lashes glued on. Neither the diamonds sparkling in your ears and around your neck - both a gift from him.
“You’re right.” Steve was always quick-witted, swiftly catching up with you. “Perhaps I should add some bling to my modest outfit, too? To make this cozy more fancy.”
He brushed a hand across his torso, clad only in a simple white (so deliciously tight) undershirt. The few tattoos he had were almost on full display. The gray sweatpants he had on were hanging dangerously low on his hips and you thought this look was much sexier than if he was walking around in a tailored suit.
“Nah,” you waved your hand, passing Steve and jumping onto the couch. “It’s impolite to look better than your wife.”
“I’ll remember that,” Steve chuckled.
He braced his hands on his hips as he watched you get comfortable.
“Do you want anything that’s not at hand?” He asked, pointing at the coffee table. When you shook your head and grabbed a bowl of chips, he said: “I’ll check on Tommy and be right back.”
You checked on your sleeping baby boy before coming down, but there was no force nor reason that could stop Steve from doing his own check up on his son. It warmed your heart every time you witnessed Steve’s genuine love for your baby.
Even if at times you were still silently questioning this whole marriage into which you were sort of forced, you also felt Steve’s love for you.
Which is why it was so easy to snuggle to his side when Steve returned and took his spot on the couch right next to you. He draped one arm around you and picked the remote with his other hand. You let him flip through the channels, enjoying the simplicity of being together and watching whatever Steve was in the mood for.
You watched one comedy, then two episodes of some new crime show. Some music channel played 80’s and 90’s hits for about forty minutes that you and Steve spent making out - slowly and softly, before settling back to watch tv.
You dozed off for about an hour and though Steve claimed he was awake the whole time, you’re sure you heard a few snores of his through your light sleep.
When the countdown to midnight started, you both got up. You stretched as Steve opened a bottle of alcohol-free champagne. He filled two flutes, but set them down on the table as he scurried away for a moment. He returned with shoes and coats for both of you, grinning at your questioning frown.
“I have a little surprise,” it’s the only explanation you got as you pushed your feet into your fur-laced boots.
Steve slid the patio door open and the two of you walked outside, champagne flutes in hands (and the baby monitor in Steve’s coat pocket). A few moments later the quiet, dark sky above the forest surrounding your estate burst with colors of sparkling fireworks.
“Happy New Year, little wife,” Steve’s breath tickles your ear when he leans to murmur, before his mouth descends on yours.
You didn’t feel like drinking champagne after that kiss, more interested in filling your mouth with more of Steve’s taste. But you sipped it as Steve wrapped his arms around you - your back to his chest - and you watched the fireworks show displayed in the night sky.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x female reader#mafia!steve rogers#mafia!steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fic#nesting#nesting!steve rogers
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ex boyfriend! eren headcannons ࿐ྂ。
❥ note: as a disclaimer, these headcanons are a bit toxic/dark, if that is something you find triggering i recommend you skip this one, you can find other works of eren that don't have this particular theme here just want to make it clear that i do not condone this sort of behavior and this doesn't represent my idea of what a healthy relationship should look like thank you and enjoy
Firstly, eren doesn't even consider you guys to be actually broken up, he’s convinced. you’re just screwing with him or playing hard to get. Even once he realizes you're not, the breakup is still completely one sided. He loves you far too much to even fathom that the relationship is over. He’s already planned your entire future together–he's been doing so since he first met you, from the house you'll live in together to the garter you'll be wearing on your wedding day. In short, he’s delusional when it comes to you, head over heels or do he likes to call it and for this reason he still goes around telling everyone you're his.
Everyone around him, including his friends is obviously taken aback by this and so they sort of just play along, listening to him rant about you the moment he’s gotten enough alcohol in his system. This happens at every get together they have had since the breakup. “she’s just confused and going through a tough time right now. She doesn't know that she wants me,” he’ll say anytime he hears about you having moved on with anyone else. If anyone even has the courage to challenge his statements he has the habit of angrily shutting them down. “Shut the hell up, you don't know anything about our relationship.”
He spends the first few days blowing up your phone with texts about how much he loves you and that though your relationship has had its ups and downs – him being the one who’s mostly responsible for the downs, you guys will get through it as you always had if you just keep trying. When he received no response ,he changed his approach, no longer attempting to convince you to stay but now begging you to come back home. “Come back to me please..” he’ll bombard your voicemail inbox with pleas and sob stories about how he hasn't slept because he misses holding you each night.
Weeks or even months will pass since the break up itself, and every second of his time he uses to reach out to you, whether it's through phone calls or text. You better believe he's taking time to check up on you to see how you're doing–most importantly, what you're doing and who you're with. He wants to make sure you're safe and not in the hands of any trouble or anyone he considers trouble. He has a habit of speaking with you as though you two are still together, ending many conversations with “i love you.” and “hope to see you soon.” When he isn't reaching out to you he's thinking about you or talking to you about whatever poor soul is forced to listen.
When he hears it from you that you’ve moved on to someone else, his heart shatters. He had been able to deny and ignore the reality when he heard it from others but now that it was coming from you he had lost the energy to keep pretending to be okay with how things were, he feels as though you’re betraying him. In his eyes you were cheating by being with another. Still, he doesn't make it known then and there, instead he responds with. “He can't love you the way I do.” and beyond that point he stops reaching out, and waits for you to come running back.
You'll learn the hard way that he was right when you are riding back to his place drunk with tears running down your cheeks because you caught the very person you’d moved onto cheating on you with another girl. Once you two arrive, he carries you into the apartment where the two of you had shared many memories together, because you are too drained from the events of the day to walk. He takes off your makeup using the makeup remover you’d ‘left behind’ when you moved out. Really, he stole it out of your things, along with other items because he was certain you’d come back to him under such circumstances.
He takes you into his arm, holding you so close and so tight to him because he’s afraid that you’ll leave him again as you cry in his arms. “Don't know what i was thinking” his fingers stroke your hair. “You weren't. but you should have known better.” eren isn't too interested in giving you his sympathy because he feels he’s the one been betrayed the most here. If only you hadn't run off with someone else, none of this would be happening.
“I warned you,” he added. “I'm so sorry..” you sniffled, he swiped away your tears. his way of speaking to you had caused a wave of guilt to wash over you, you had left eren behind only to end up being made to look like a fool because you thought the grass was greener on the other side. Though he was upset with you, Eren hated seeing you cry. especially over someone he didn't believe deserved your tears. “Make it up to me then.” a weight lifted off your shoulders at the offer of redemption. Little did you know, he plans to have you crying tears of another kind.
❥ nsfw (things get sexual from here, if you are not comfortable with this kind of content pls turn back)
Before you know it, he’s ripped your dress off you, both your clothes and underwear are thrown about the hallway leading to the bedroom you used to share. He hasn't made a single change to anything since your absence and you find yourself feeling nostalgic, thinking back to a time where things werent easy but never this complicated. you're on the bed exposed and bear before him. He hovers between your legs. “Been so long since i've seen you like this, god i've missed it so much.” he’ll coo, his emerald gaze admiring your glistening folds that have spread with his fingers. the way your cunt throbbed under the lightest of touch, begging to be filled made him grow hard. “Missed you too.” you mutter, hazily bucking your hips against his touch.
“I know. I know.” he reassures you, giving into your silent demands, he continues toying with you, pushing his fingers past your folds,his finger strokes at your clit. “bet that boyfriend of yours didn't know how to take care of this needy little cunt, did he.” your juices now coating his fingers, he pounds you with them, earning a symphony of moans from your lips. “not like i do..” he says, the satisfaction of you being so reactive to his touch bringing a smile to his face, your back arching as his movements become overwhelming for you. He soon pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his cock, that had been aching to be inside of you for far too long.
He pushes one of your legs outward, granting him more access to your sweet hole, He pushes deeper inside of you all self control leaving his body the moment he hears you cry out for him, tears welling in your eyes from pleasure as he fucks into you. “So pretty, gonna fill you up with my cum.” he groans,the moment he feels you clenching around his cock, your thighs trembling. He threw his head back as he rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, admiring you in such a state.
“Eren, you can't!” You shriek, his fingers gripping at your hips harshly. He continues fucking you hard and deep, his hips smashing against your own. “cant cum inside you?” he’ll question. he continues to pound you, this is his way of letting you know he has no intention of pulling out.
“but i thought you were sorry? I thought you were mine?”There is a heartbroken tone in his voice as he speaks to you, hoping for you to reassure him you meant the words you'd spoken earlier. You were left feeling guilty for even thinking you should have denied him. after everything you’d already done to hurt him. You had said you would make it up to and part of that required doing as he wanted. “I am!”
“shut up and take my cum then, you said you’re mine. gotta prove it. this pussy is mine too, right baby?” you nodded in agreement, tellinf him whatever he needed to hear to keep fucking you so good, muttering the best “mhm, i love you so so much!” you could muster while being overtaken by your orgasm as eren came inside of you, the creamy liquid dripping out of you and down your thighs. “You're not going anywhere, not now, not ever, I won't let you.”
Eren, Who was responsible for it all, and had developed a plan for each failed talking stage you had. since leaving him and most importantly the breakup due to your boyfriend cheating– from his actions of intimidating them into leaving you alone with threats of physical attacks or the videos he sent them of him devouring your cunt, while you cried out his name, your fingers tugging at his brunette strands of hair. A video which had been recorded so long ago when the two of you were still together, but the idiot, who you had made the mistake of calling a boyfriend, hadn't even bothered to verify that your nails hadn't been any color you had been since you'd meeting him. perhaps, he simply didn't care enough. it was of no big importance to eren either way, in his eyes the fool wasn't deserving of you. Just as eren believed to be the case since the beginning, he was the only one who’d love you the way you deserved and for this reason he was never going anywhere.
here’s my masterlist
#eren smut#eren headcanons#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager smut#eren jeager x reader#eren yeager#eren x reader#eren x you#eren jaeger x y/n#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x you#attack on titan x y/n#attack on titan x you#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan fanfiction#attack on titan smut
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Ive really been loving all that you post. I've had this idea rattling in my head. It's a Azriel x best friend Reader. Where their friendship has mostly been platonic. Azriel and Elain were an item before she eventually left him for lucien, causing Azriel to spiral outta control. Azriels getting blackout drunk like every night, crying his eyes out saying how much he loved Elain, getting into fights hes just a mess and although readers there helping him shes fucking hurt that her friends suffering. I picture reader coming to help Azriel again one night dressed really nice and drop dead gorgeous, shes getting him into bed or whatever and hes just staring at her, like really looking at her. The bond snaps for him that instant and hes taking her in and asks her why are u wearing a gown? And she tells him she was on a date with Eris but ended it early to come help him. Breaks his fucking heart that shes dating someone (Especially Eris) but he then realizes shes always been there by his side. I imagine her not knowing about the bond or ignoring it cuz she just can't be Azriels 2nd choice ( but also cant hurt him) when shes been there the whole time and she feels she deserves someone who actually loves her not just cuz the mother said they should be together. Angst with maybe open ending? Or sad ending idk. Lol. Happy ending? I cant chooose. Lol.
Dearest Friend: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Alcohol, Brief Mentions of Violence
***
You sighed deeply, knowing it was going to be another long night with your dearest friend. You hated that Azriel was hurting, but you were growing tired of the constant drinking and fighting. You dragged the large male out of the alley you found him in, calling out to Rhys to send someone to check on whoever he had been pummeling to a pulp when you found him.
“M’fine,” Azriel grumbled, pushing himself off of you to stumble down the road.
“I know you are. I am just helping,” you explained, used to the difficult task of getting him home. You brought him to the townhouse, as he was in no state to fly the two of you up to the House if Wind. He got angry when he was here, remembering the early stages of his feelings for Elain.
“I want to go home,” he protested, stopping in the doorway. You grabbed his hands and pulled him gently inside, shutting the door behind him.
“We can go home tomorrow, Az. Tonight we are going to stay here, closer to the ground.” He mumbled under his breath something about hating you and this place, but you just rolled your eyes and continued pulling him up to the room he typically stayed in.
You felt an air of sadness wash over you, looking to see Azriel staring at a door near the end of the hall. You knew that was Elain’s old room, before she moved to the River House with Rhys and Feyre. You reached up and placed a hand on his face, prompting him to look at you. “She’s not here,” you soothed, heart breaking at the anguish in his eyes. He nodded, head leaning into the touch of your hand. “Come on.”
You brought him into his room, sliding off his dirty clothes. He didn’t fight you as you slid warm, clean sleepwear onto him, the anger exhausted for the night. You pulled the blankets over him and tucked him in, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep, Az.”
His hand on your arm stopped you, the pleading look in his eyes already telling you what he wanted. “Stay,” he whispered, pulling you down next to him. You took in a deep breath before sliding under the blankets with him, allowing him to hold you close. You had been sleeping like this a lot lately, your back pressed tight to his chest while he held you like you were his lifeline.
You wish he knew how true that was.
You had learned the shove the pull of the mating bond down long ago, realizing that Azriel would likely never feel it. The two of you had been friends for a few hundred years, and he had never made any inclination that he knew in all that time.
He pushed closer to you, burying his face in your hair. “Why wasn’t I enough for her?” Your heart broke just a little more, understanding the feeling all too well. You ran your fingers over his hands, shushing him.
“Enough of that, Az. She has a mate, that wasn’t a bond you could fight with. It has nothing to do with you.” You felt like you had said the same things over and over, constantly reassuring your friend that he did nothing wrong. Elain had tried to fight the bond with Lucien, making her own choice to go after Azriel. Unfortunately, the Mother creates bonds for a reason and even Azriel wasn’t enough to keep her from her mate.
Your countless failed relationships proved that as well.
“I wish she had been my mate,” he mumbled, sleep beginning to take over. You ignored the pain in your chest at his words, knowing he had no idea his mate was here in his arms. His mate he had no interest in.
“Go to sleep, Az.”
***
You smiled at the male across from you, raising your glass to your lips. With the now-accepted mating bond between Lucien and Elain, along with a growing alliance with the Autumn Court, Eris had taken to visiting Velaris often. You had arrived at the River House to ask about the male Azriel had attacked a few nights prior, not knowing he was there. You couldn’t deny the slight uptick of your heart whenever you saw him.
He had asked you to accompany him out to dinner that night, an invitation you gladly accepted. For the first time the attention of another male overrode the underlying pull of the mating bond. You had rushed off to get ready, forgetting the reason you even went over there.
Perhaps it was foolish, agreeing to a date with the Autumn Prince. You were tired of being alone, tired of waiting for the bond that will never snap for your mate. Eris was handsome, charming, and kept your attention full on him. You’d never met anyone quite like that.
“You look,” he spoke, surveying you over his whiskey glass, “divine.” You couldn’t hide the slight blush at his words, heat coursing through you. No other male had ever been able to affect you with such few words.
“I’m sure no different than the ladies you court in Autumn,” you responded, a teasing lilt to your voice. Eris chuckled, sipping his drink.
“Truth be told, I cant say i’ve ever had the interest in courting any of them.” You swore your heart stopped, mind going temporarily blank. “No one has ever caught my attention quite like you did.” He was looking at your curiously, as if trying to find some invisible string that tied you to him.
“I could say the same about you,” you got out, taking a mildly too large drink. Eris smiled back,
opening his mouth to say more when Cassian burst into the restaurant. He caught sight of you immediately, striding over to the table.
“He’s bad. He won’t accept any of us, he’s requesting you.” He looked apologetic, awkwardly glancing between you and Eris. You sighed, unable to hide the slow anger rising in you.
“Fine. Where is he?” You asked, standing from the table. You looked over to Eris, halfway ready to tell Azriel to screw himself so you could stay here. “Im so sorry. Our friend is…not well,” you explained, knowing he already knew the situation.
“Of course,” he said, waving you to go. “I just expect you to take me on an extravagant make-up date when he’s better.” The wink he gave you had color racing up your neck, a small smile on your lips.
***
Cass brought you to the townhouse, a sure sign that Azriel was wasted again. “I didn’t want to interrupt your date,” he began, “but he’s losing it in there. Crying and screaming about Elain, destroying everything he can get his hands on. Rhys can’t even get into his mind to calm him down.” You knew how dire this situation must be if Rhys was willing to infiltrate his friends mind without consent. You prepared yourself as the door opened, peering in to the damage he had caused.
It was bad. Very, very bad.
“Az?” You called out, stepping into the ruined home. “Are you in here?” You heard a low sob from the living room, turning to Cassian behind you. “You should stay out here, for now. I’ll yell if I need you.” He agreed, willing to do anything you thought may help his brother.
You made your way into the living room, finishing Azriel tucked into the farthest corner. His shadows were going wild, racing around the room in a chaotic show. You carefully walked over to him, being sure to not trip on any of the debris. You knelt down in front of him, running your hands up and down his arms.
“Hey, Az. I’m here now. What do you need?” Your words were quiet, soothing. He slowly lifted his head off his knees, eyes bloodshot. You clicked your tongue at the deep circles under them, the sunken skin of his cheeks. He was destroying himself.
“Let me help you up to bed, okay? I’ll bring you water, do you want me to send Cassian to pick up some food?” He shook his head as you pulled him up, looking almost small. You gently lead him upstairs, an area he had thankfully stayed out of during his rampage. You once again changed his clothes and tucked him into bed, heading downstairs to get him a glass of water.
You opened the front door to see Cassian sitting on the steps, waiting for you. “He’s in bed,” you said as he stood, “you are good to go. I’ll stay with him.” Cassian nodded, shifting on his feet.
“I’m sorry again. We may have had disagreements in the past, but Eris is proving to be a decent guy. I think he’d be good for you.” Your heart fluttered at his words, that small smile coming back onto your face.
“Yes, well, I suppose we will see.” He bid you goodnight and you closed the door, locking it behind you. You retrieved the glass for Az, bringing it up to him.
“Drink,” you commanded, pushing the water in his hands. He did so greedily, needing the cool liquid after his actions that night. You took the empty
glass from him, setting it on the nightstand. “Anything else?” You asked, voice missing the normal warmth it had when he was in this state.
Azriel looked at you closely, eyes slowly taking in your appearance. “You look…nice.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Yes, thanks for noticing. Are you good?” You were growing impatient.
“Why are you wearing that?” His question held a small tone of accusation, clearly unhappy that you were out while he was struggling.
“Honestly Azriel, do you take me as your mother? I was on a date, a very lovely night until you had to ruin it.” You couldn’t help the anger pushing out of you, years of being there for him piling up inside you.
“A date? With who?” He sneered, focused on the elegant but tight dress you had on.
“If you must know, I was with Eris. Now, do you need anything else?” You stared him down, focusing every emotion into that gaze. He began to shake his head, body suddenly stilling.
“Azriel?” Your anger began to be replaced by concern, the unblinking look on his face scaring you.
“You’re my mate.”
Oh. That. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you at the injustice of it all. Centuries you longed after him, dreaming of this very moment. The very night your heart begins to long for another, the bond snaps.
Snaps while he’s drunk due to thoughts of another lover.
He states you down, unsure as to your laughter. “Azriel,” you sighed, “I know. I’ve known.”
He stood off the bed, the sudden realization sobering him. “This is great! You are my mate! This whole time, you’ve been right in front of me.” He raised a hand to your face, brushing your hair back lovingly. “My dearest friend, my mate.”
It was too much. You pushed back from him, shaking your head. “No, Azriel.”
“No?”
“I won’t be your second choice. Not when I have finally found someone I could be happy with, without the thought of you ruining it.” Your eyes filled with tears when you looked up at him. “You don’t want me, Az. You want her. You said it yourself, you wished she was your mate.”
His eyebrows furrowed, shadows becoming agitated again. “No that’s not what I meant, I-“
You cut him off. “Stop, Azriel. In the hundreds of years we’ve been friends, you’ve never once treated me as more than. You don’t want me, not like that. You never have.” Your heart squeezed tight at the devestaed look on his face.
“You can’t reject me,” he said, voice quiet.
You ran your hands over your face, a frustrated groan falling from you. “I’m not. I just don’t think this is truly what you want.” You looked up at him, standing tall. “I need you to want me for me, not because the bond has told you to.”
His shadows were swirling around, staying far away from you. The anger and hurt in his face broke you, but you stood strong. You would not be with a male you loved so deeply if he could not love you the same.
“Goodnight, Az,” you said, leaving his room and the destroyed townhouse before you broke any further.
***
I hope you like this!! I left the ending open, I feel like I always do HEAs so I wanted to try not not resolve the issue yet 🫣. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for liking my writing enough to request something ❤️
#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#acotar x you#acotar x y/n#requests#dearest friend
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one step forward and three steps back
warnings: blood, panic attack, self harm, relapse. seriously, if you are even slightly concerned that this could be triggering for you, don't read it.
Ingrid-fight.
The weeks following your breakdown were easier than you'd anticipated. You'd taken a couple weeks off, spending the time focusing on your mental health, at Alexia and Jona's insistence. The club told the media that you were taking time for your mental health, which mostly went over well. Some, however, thought the club was being too soft. They only saw you get a red card, and take weeks off from playing; it was a tantrum you were throwing, not taking time for yourself.
Your return game saw you in the starting lineup, along with Mapi and Alexia. Ingrid was still out, being careful with her leg. You were doing better, able to focus more on playing, as well as being significantly less reckless on the pitch. Your hand had healed, and it really should have been your game.
Unfortunately for you, though, was that the other team was desperate to win. Not that every team wasn't, but the dirty tackles coming in every other minute made it clear that they were on a mission. Still, you'd managed to stay out of trouble until it was almost the end of the game.
You were trying to beat a defender, one of the players that had been playing particularly roughly. Normally, you didn't mind this, never not up for a physical challenge. What you didn't appreciate, however, was the elbow thrown into your face, connecting directly with first your nose, and then your eye.
"Fucking hell," You cried out, hands flying to your face as the other girl took the ball. The whistle blew almost instantly, and she groaned. You were pissed. "What, did you think they added throwing elbows when you can't do your job into the rulebook?" You asked her, feeling blood beginning to stream steadily out of your nose.
Your teammates and the ref were still making their way over to you, and only some of them caught the girls response.
"Gonna need to take another few weeks off? Your nose probably needs a mental health break, huh?" She said condescendingly. Alexia and Mapi sped up at this, breaking into runs to get to you. Sure enough, no sooner had the words left her mouth, and you were taking your hands away from your nose, and giving her a harsh shove. She shoved back, and both of you had fists raised by the time you were separated.
Mapi wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you back. "Easy there, the ref will take care of it," she told you, as you fought against her grasp. You were annoyed, Mapi was normally down for a fight. Instead, she was speaking in soothing tones, her calm eyes meeting your wild ones.
"She said-"
"I know what she said, but your face is bleeding, so sit down and let the physios check you, bueno?" Mapi was pissed, but she could hear Alexia talking to the ref behind her, and felt that as much as she wanted to slap that stupid girl across the face, she was more helpful here, making you take a seat as the physios arrived.
With a huff, you relented, sitting down. The pain in your face was becoming harder to ignore, and you didn't know if you believed the guy when he told you your nose wasn't broken, only badly bruised.
"Feels fucking broken," you said, attempting to add some bite to your words. Instead, they came out all choked, and you realized you were about to cry.
Mapi put a hand on your shoulder, not used to this response. You normally didn't cry when you got hurt, and she realized the comment from the other girl had affected you more than you'd probably admit. Mapi made eye contact with the physio and shook her head slightly, He signaled to the bench for a sub.
"You said it wasn't broken!" you protested.
"No, but you should ice it. No reason to take any unnecessary risks." He told you, and you knew that he and Mapi were just aware that you were upset, not thinking that you really needed to go off. You were going to argue, when Alexia stepped up, fixing you with her general look of "do what they say or I'll yell." You weren't in the mood for any yelling, so you relented, stomping off to the sidelines, without another word to your teammates. You noticed with some satisfaction that the other girl had gotten a red.
You stalked off the pitch, heading for the locker room, and Ingrid fell into step beside you.
"Leave me alone." You told her, wanting to cry in peace. You weren't sure why you were so upset with that girl's comment, but you were.
"No," she responded, meeting your glare with a smile. "Not letting you break another hand." She joked, and you mumbled an insult under your breath. She ignored it, following you into the locker room and watching as you threw yourself down in front of your locker.
Ingrid brought over a towel and some ice, insistently holding them out to you. After you took them, wiping the blood off your face, and pressing the ice to your nose, she sat next to you.
"You looked upset out there." She remarked.
"Yeah well. Elbow to the face." You responded.
"It looked like she said something to you," Ingrid pressed. You paused, before deciding to tell Ingrid what she said. her response would tell you whether you were being dramatic or not. After you'd spoken, Ingrid's eyes narrowed.
"What a little bitch," she seethed, and you huffed out a laugh, that quickly turned into a sob. Ingrid looked at you, startled, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.
"I don't know why I'm crying, it wasn't that bad. It was just mean and my nose hurts and I hate that stupid girl," you blubbered, and Ingrid held back a laugh.
"It's alright, y/n, you're allowed to be upset. It was mean. And it was about something that's sensitive to you, it makes sense why you're upset." She told you rationally. Ingrid had a way of speaking that made whatever she said make sense, instantly believable. You wiped the remaining tears off your face, before quietly thanking her. She squeezed your shoulders, and you both lapsed into silence.
You were impressed with Ingrid, for being able to make you feel better so fast. Ingrid was impressed with you, for expressing your feelings without her having to drag them out of you. It was clear that you were improving, and it filled her with relief. But for every step forward, there's always a step back. Or two.
-----
Mapi- panic.
You weren't really sure what had happened. One second, you were out with the team, celebrating a win in a club. It was a rare occasion for your captains [mostly Alexia], to agree to a night out in the middle of the season, so everyone had taken full advantage. You were dancing with Pina and Patri, surrounded by other people, when you felt it; the beginnings of panic starting to rise within you.
Maybe it was the crowded room, the lack of oxygen, the alcohol, or just a random fit of anxiety. Regardless of the reason, you were quickly growing more panicked. Without a word to either girl you were with, you had spun around and were pushing your way out of the crowd, off the dance floor. You broke free of the crowd, not processing anything happening around you. You still felt like the room was out of air though, so you headed for the door, stumbling slightly as you pushed your way out.
You leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. The air outside was cooler, more plentiful, yet you still couldn't seem to get enough into your body. You slid to the ground, pressing your hands to your face as you tried desperately to regain control. You couldn't hear much except for a faint ringing sound, and you felt completely untethered from the world.
Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jerked your head up to find Mapi's concerned face looking down at you. You relaxed slightly, knowing it wasn't a random stranger, putting your head back in your hands.
You felt Mapi take a seat next to you, her hand moving slowly up and down your back. She took one of your hands away from your face, and pressed it to her chest. You felt the steady rise and fall of her breaths, and forced yourself to match them. Your breaths were still stuttering, but they began to slow. You weren't sucking in air as desperately anymore, and the ringing in your ears was giving way to Mapi's gravelly voice.
"In and out, just like that," she said as you began to process her words. "Good, just take it slow. You're safe, I've got you," she told you, her voice and touch working well to calm you.
"Sorry," you gasped out, although you weren't really sure why you were apologizing.
"That's alright, pequeña, you can't help it." She replied. Once you were almost completely calm, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her. "What happened?" she asked, and you could hear the note of protection in her voice.
"Don't know. Too many people I think," you told her, resting your head against the wall behind you as you breathed in and out. "I'll be okay in a minute," you said.
"Take your time, I've got no where else to be," she said, resting her chin on your head.
It still struck you how much your friends cared for you. Even when you felt like they shouldn't, even when you knew it would be easier for them to give up on you, or let you handle it alone, they never did. And they never would, no matter what.
-----
Alexia - relapse.
You hadn't meant for it to happen- really. You'd been doing better. You were working with a therapist, and you'd started medication. It was clear that you desperately needed both of these things, and they were helping. You were naive to think that it would be only up from there though. Looking back, you'd realize the increase in dosage in your medication had just gone horribly wrong, the way that it could in rare cases. Having a clear reason didn't make what happened disappear though.
It had been a bad day. You'd woken up in an inexplicably bad mood. It had been a while since the familiar heavy cloud of gloom had settled over you, but as you headed to training, you felt it once again. The weight pushed down on you insistently, and as a result, you practiced worse. Your passes weren't connecting, shots weren't going in, and you kept tripping over your own feet.
This only made your mood worse, and by the time practice ended, you were incredibly frustrated with yourself. You avoided conversation, everyone discussing exciting plans for the night since you all had the day off tomorrow. You left the locker room quickly, missing the glances exchanged as you opened the door harder than necessary. You really should have expected to be stopped by your friends, but you were so in your head, you didn't hear them approaching. You jumped when Mapi placed a tattooed hand on your shoulder, halting you in your tracks.
When you turned to look at her, her face was pinched with concern, and you felt yourself grow more frustrated; you weren't supposed to be worrying your friends anymore, you were fine. Alexia stood behind her, watching you carefully. They both had yet to shower, still in their training kits, and you wondered if they were waiting so they could check on you.
"You alright pequeña?" Mapi asked. You nodded, sighing as both girls continued to look at you, clearly not believing you.
"Just a rough day." You told them.
"Do you want one of us to come home with you?" Alexia asked, keeping her voice low and soothing, expecting you to reject the idea. It was something they'd made you promise after that night. If you weren't feeling okay, you were supposed to tell them. You had yet to do this, with things improving, and you didn't want to start now. Admitting that you were having a bad day was one thing, but admitting that your thoughts were going dark was another. You were better, you were supposed to be better.
So, you convinced yourself that you'd be fine on your own, and you told Alexia as much. "No, I'm fine, I promise. I'm just gonna go home and relax." Your plans for the rest of the day consisted of laying in bed until you felt less like your every move was heavy.
The older girls gave you searching looks, but relented, reminding you that they were just a phone call away. They'd slowly begun to trust you again, since that night, trust you'd earned. They'd been able to see your improvements, and as a result, assumed that if you needed them, you'd tell them.
They were wrong.
------
In hindsight, maybe going home by yourself while in the midst of a depressive episode might not have been the best idea. Arriving home, you had tried to distract yourself, which was hard when you barely had the energy to sit upright. You settled yourself on your couch, not bothering to try to eat. You pulled your favorite blanket around your shoulders, settling in against the cushions, putting a random show on. You fell asleep watching TV, with the hopes that when you woke up, you'd feel better.
Instead, you woke up after the sun had set, feeling much worse. Your apartment was completely dark, although the curtains were wide open. You didn't bother with turning the lights on, staying in the same position on the couch as you began to spiral.
The deep sadness that had nestled it's way into the very core of your being this morning had given way some, to numbness. The numbness was normally where things went south. A combination of despair, but the inability to access those emotions choked you. You felt, so deeply, but you couldn't bring it to the surface. Instead, the shadows of these emotions danced just outside your grasp, leaving you desperate for something, anything, other than blank paralysis.
This was normally the point you turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Not often, and not for a while, but still, the once the thought popped into your head, you couldn't get rid of it. You knew it was the only thing that could bring you back into yourself, melt the freeze in your brain. The pain never failed at this; you knew it was bad, knew you shouldn't need to resort to this, but sitting there on your couch, you couldn't really think of any other option.
Robotically, you stood up from the couch, pausing as your phone fell to the ground off your lap. There were a few notifications you'd missed, and you stopped, opening them. All were from various teammates group chats. You ignored most of them, opening up the thread with Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid. Your mind was clouded, focused on the task you had set your mind to, but still, a small part of it reminded you that you didn't have to do this. You had people that could help, would help, wanted to help.
You remembered, though, that they were out tonight. It was Ingrid and Mapi's anniversary, and the spaniard was taking Ingrid somewhere ridiculous and fancy. Alexia had some Barcelona related benefit. Realistically, you knew they'd all drop everything to come to you if you told them you needed them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. One time wouldn't hurt. You could do it again, just this once. They'd never have to know.
-----
Pulling the blade away from your skin, you watched as blood trailed down your thigh. You didn't feel better, not like you normally did. The feelings had come rushing back to you after the first cut, but they didn't relinquish their grip on you as you continued. You felt desperate, filled with anguish, with no clear way to get rid of it.
Well, there was one way. As soon as you had that thought, you began to panic. You hadn't thought like this in a really long time, and it scared the hell out of you. It was like you were fighting between two parts of yourself, one that wanted you to be okay, and one that didn't care if you were okay, as long as you didn't feel like this anymore. The latter had won out, earlier. You were terrified that if you didn't do something, it would win again.
You forced yourself to breath, to think logically. You grabbed a towel from the shelf next to you. You leaned back against the wall, pressing it tightly against your leg. You just needed to do one thing at a time and everything would be okay. Reaching up to the bathroom counter, you grabbed your phone.
This was the hardest part. Harder than dragging the blade across your skin, harder than hiding your scars. Scars you'd reopened now. Your hand shook as you considered your options. Your mind had cleared slightly, self preservation instincts kicking in.
Ingrid and Mapi deserved a nice anniversary. Alexia hated social events. She'd probably tell you that you were doing her a favor if you called. Probably not when she heard why you called, but regardless.
Taking another breath, you clicked her contact, anxiety finding it's way into your gut.
"Hola, y/n." Alexia answered rather quickly, and you knew then that she hadn't really believed you earlier.
"Ale." You choked the word out, eyes suddenly full of tears. You didn't sound like yourself. Now that she was on the phone with you, the weight of what you'd done, and what you'd considered, was hitting you full force.
"Que paso?" Alexia asked, voice switching from casual to worried instantly. You could picture her expression, the one she got when she was giving someone instructions, or arguing with a ref, an intensity that made her the player that she was. It also made her the friend that she was. You tried to reply, but the words wouldn't come out of your mouth.
"Y/n, I need you to tell me what's happening, now" Alexia said almost frantically. The background of people talking had disappeared and you knew she was leaving, moving fast to get to you.
"I-... I need you," you responded finally, barely getting the words out. You were sucking in air faster now, tears falling freely.
"Okay, I'm coming to you now, nena. I'll be there in 10 minutes," Alexia told you. Her soft tone was one reserved for very few people; at that moment, you counted yourself very lucky that you were one of them. "Are you safe?" She asked, feeling like she already knew the answer.
You weren't really sure how to respond to that. The bleeding had stopped, so you weren't medically in danger. The blade was across the bathroom from you, and Alexia was on her way, so you doubted you'd be able to do any more damage. Your thoughts were still rather dire, but you were focusing on Alexia, on her voice, and the sound of her getting in her car and starting the engine.
"I'm not really sure," you settled on. The Catalan wasn't sure what to make of that response.
"Are you at home?"
"Si"
"Are you hurt?"
You paused, and she knew the answer. You heard the engine increasing in volume as she accelerated. "Pequeña, do you need an ambulance?" Alexia asked. The question made her nauseous but she forced herself to remain focused, to not get caught up in her feelings.
"No. Stopped bleeding." You replied, shutting your eyes tightly as she inhaled a sharp breath. You hated this, hated it so much.
"Okay, that's good, nena. Can you take a breath for me?" You did as she asked, realizing that you'd been holding in air. "Bien, muy bien. I'm almost there, okay? Stay on the phone with me."
"Okay," came your response, voice quiet. Neither of you spoke much after that, Alexia aware that you were struggling to reply, and relying on the sound of your breaths to assure her that you were alright.
She told you when she arrived, though, parking the car and jumping in the elevator. The call cut out while she was in there, which you'd been expecting. As you waited for her to enter the apartment, trusting that she'd use her spare key, you took in the sight in front of you. You didn't pull the towel away from your thigh, but you looked at the red staining the bath mat, the blade discarded where you'd thrown it. Pulling your attention from it, you focused on the door, hearing Alexia move hastily through your apartment.
She opened the door, and had to stifle a gasp. She'd tried to prepare herself, but nothing she could picture in her mind was like seeing it in person. You were sat against the wall, white blood stained towel pressed to your leg. You shorts were pulled up, revealing the scars on your other leg. You were wearing an old training shirt, and there was blood on that too. You were shaking slightly, eyes big and cheeks tearstained. What struck her most was how scared you looked.
"Oh, pequeña," she said, voice breaking. You dropped your gaze at her words, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. She crouched down next to you, placing a hand on your cheek. She pressed her lips to your forehead, desperate to give you any comfort she could. "I'm here, I've got you. We'll take care of it, alright?" She said, words thick with emotion. You nodded shakily, and she stood back up, pulling the first aid kit out from under your sink. She took a seat back next to you, pausing.
"Can you take the towel off, nena?" Alexia asked. She didn't want to push you too hard, not sure how you'd respond. Wordlessly, you pulled it off your leg, wincing where it stuck to the skin. Alexia swallowed hard, the sight worse than she anticipated.
"Okay. I'm going to disinfect, and then I'm going to cover them." You nodded, still not having spoken. She pulled out a couple of alcohol wipes, opening 3 all at once. "This is gonna sting, tell me if you need a break, okay?" Again, you only nodded. Alexia worked fast, cleaning the wounds. You didn't ask for a break, but she noticed you flinch every so often, let out sharper exhales. She put anti-infection cream on before deciding against bandaids. Instead, she placed a piece of gauze on, wrapping it with medical adhesive tape.
You looked down, taking in the neatly wrapped area. It looked much better like this, much more manageable. Alexia stood to wash her hands. She dried them off, before turning back to you. You were staring at your red stained hands. She reached down, guiding you to stand, before pulling you to the sink, and helping you wash the blood off of them. You were docile under her grasp, blankly following her instructions. She led you out of the bathroom, quickly helping you change out of your blood stained clothes, and into clean ones. She pulled clothes out of your closet for herself, too, changing out of the suit she'd worn the the benefit. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and she'd rather be comfortable.
You found yourself sitting on the couch, like you had been before. This time though, the lights were on, and the room felt warm, inviting, as opposed to cold and lonely. Alexia moved around, keeping an eye on you as she made you a mug of tea. She sat down next to you, typing quickly on her phone before turning to you.
You felt better. Not great, not really even good, but better. You got a better grasp on your emotions, and began to connect the dots in your head. This had been so out of the blue. Normally, you only reached this point after weeks of being down. It was clear to you, now, that increasing your dosage of your meds had been a mistake. You'd always heard warnings, about how in rare cases an antidepressant could increase depression, thoughts of... the things you'd done. And the things you'd thought about doing. The explanation made you feel a little calmer.
Alexia, on the other hand, did not know what had happened. She was trying to give you some time to process, but she was going crazy. You hadn't spoken to her since she'd arrived, and you were sitting next to her, clearly deep in thought.
"Y/n, can you please tell me what you're thinking?" She finally asked. You startled slightly, before nodding your head. You explained your theory, of why what had happened happened.
"I just need to go back down on my meds. Or try a different one." Alexia felt relieved, but not completely. She could see you trying to convince yourself that, because there was a clear explanation, it was fine. You were fine. That this wasn't a big deal. She also could tell that you were trying not to let yourself get upset about it.
"I'm glad you understand why this happened, we can go see the psychiatrist tomorrow," she said, carefully contemplating her next words. "That was still really scary, nena."
"I'm so sorry, Ale. I'm so sorry you had to see that, that I called, that I messed up again and scared you," you rambled, clearly thinking she was talking about being scared herself. She had been terrified, but that's not what she meant.
"No, I meant for you. Having those thoughts must have been really frightening, especially out of the blue like that." Alexia replied, and you looked away. "Please, please, do not ever apologize for this. For any of it. I don't care that you scared me, I'm just glad you called. So glad, and so so proud of you, pequeña." She implored, watching carefully as you shook your head unconsciously.
"I messed up, you shouldn't be proud of me," was all you said. You looked like you were about to cry again, and Alexia couldn't resist pulling you into her arms. You let her, resting your head on her chest, blinking rapidly to try to stave off the tears.
"Well, I am proud of you. You called me. You wouldn't have done that a few months ago." She paused, thoughtful. She was trying to think of something that would relieve your guilt, your disappointment in yourself. "Relapses are part of recovery, y/n. It sucks, but they are. Relapsing doesn't make you weak, or a bad person. I know you feel like you should be better, but it's okay if you're not. Because of your medicine, or because of anything else. There's no timeline here, no requirements of being okay that you have to meet. All you need to do is try your best. And you are, I can tell. You asked for help when you needed it, and that is something to celebrate."
You looked up at her, the hopeful expression on your face making her heart clench. "I haven't let you down?" You asked quietly.
"No, nena. You haven't let anyone down. I was scared, yes, but all I feel right now is love for you, and pride for you." She said, determined for you to believe her. You were starting to. Her tone, her face, were so full of conviction, it was hard to do anything but listen.
"Thank you for coming so fast."
"I'll always come when you need me, as fast as I can." Her reply was almost instant. Alexia watched as you smiled weakly at her, before it dropped from your face, and tears welled in your eyes yet again. "What is it, pequeña," she wondered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You leaned your head back against her, speaking into the fabric of her sweatshirt.
"I have to start all over again," you choked out.
Alexia sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. But we're all gonna be here again, okay? All of us, for every second."
They'd proven they'd be there for you, time and time again. Their commitment to being good friends, to taking care of you, was what made you believe that you were worth it. They were some of the best people you knew, and if they were going to be there every step of the way, the journey must be worth it.
-----
I hope you guys enjoyed :). Obviously a super heavy part. I'm not really sure what else to say, other than I hope that if you read this, it can bring you comfort in some way. Asking for help is terrifying, but it's so worth it, I promise. You deserve to feel good, and be happy.
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— 𝟧 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓉𝑒𝓈
iwaizumi hajime x f!reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ fake boyfriend!iwazumi ﾉ brief mentions of harassment
he’s the one.
in the short time you’ve been surveying the crowd for a potential co-star in your upcoming performance, iwaizumi hajime has proven to be the perfect possible partner. you recognize him from campus and from what you’ve seen of him, he’s nothing short of a gentleman. he seems like the type to help a damsel in distress and, right now, that’s the only box he needs to check. though, it certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly attractive. it’s definitely a point on your personal scale.
you discreetly glance over your shoulder to see if the beady eyes that have been shamefully drinking you in for an uncomfortably long while are still glued to your figure. as expected, the man’s unwanted gaze continues to burn into you. you shiver, pulling the skirt of your dress down in an attempt to cover yourself. if you’re going to go through with your plan, now is the time to do it.
ignoring the unsavory feeling of eyes following you, you start on your path toward iwaizumi. he’s patiently waiting near the bar. each click of your heels against the floor leads you closer to the man and for some reason, that grounds you. by the time you’re standing in front of him, you’re already feeling safer than you had been as the lone subject of some creep’s eye.
“hi,” you greet him excitedly, hand reaching out to take his in yours. it’s big and calloused and warm. as comforting as the action is, you don’t allow yourself to get too lost in it—there are more important matters you should be concerned with at the moment.
“uh.” he looks at your joined hands with slightly widened eyes but makes no move to take his back before meeting your gaze once more. he clears his throat. “hello.”
“you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” that—being single—is another required box to check. and while you could infer by his lack of companionship or the way he’s still letting you hold his hand, you think it’s better to ask and be sure. your little show, even if it means saving your ass, isn’t worth ruining a relationship over.
“no.” his eyebrows knit together at your question but he shakes his head regardless.
“how about a boyfriend?”
“no.”
“any significant other at all?”
“no. no one.”
“good.” you nod. it’s mostly beneficial for your plan, but part of you selfishly celebrates his final answer. you smile up at him, swinging your hands before asking, “think i can be your girl for five minutes?”
iwaizumi blinks. “sorry, what?” he’s almost positive that he heard what he thinks he heard but with the blaring music and the noisy conversations, he can’t be sure.
you giggle at the look of surprise painted on his face—confusion glistening in his eyes and lips parted in wonder. “my bad,” you apologize for catching him off guard, “it’s just that this guy has been staring at me for forever and i’ve seen you at school-”
“i get it,” he cuts you off.
“you do?” you ask, eyes wide and swimming with hope. the man nods in understanding. you did bet on him being a gentleman but experiencing it firsthand has made him even more attractive than you initially thought he was. “then you’ll help me out for a bit?”
“sure. what can i do?”
“i think a kiss will be enough to get him off my back.” iwaizumi’s fingers twitch at the suggestion and the little jump against your own doesn’t go unnoticed by you. even though there’s no trace of worry in his expression, his adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows nervously. you realize how your ask might make someone a little uncomfortable. “if you’re okay with that.”
“no, i am,” he reassures you, silently berating himself for clamming up and giving you the wrong idea. it’s just, coming into tonight, the last thing iwaizumi expected was you approaching him with the idea of kissing. as unexpected as the sequence of events was, he’d be lying if he said where they led wasn’t something he’d thought about. just like you, he knows you from around campus. he’s seen enough of your smiles and heard enough of your laughs to have established some feelings for you—feelings that made him want to kiss you. “i’m fine with it.”
you grin, dropping his hand in favor of resting your arms on his shoulders and clasping your finger behind his neck. the fine hairs on his nape stand at the warmth of your skin against his. if iwaizumi is supposed to be playing the convincing role of boyfriend, he supposes he should be touching you too. his hands briefly hover over your hips before finding a home on them, thumbs caressing the thin fabric of your dress.
your breath mingles with his, the stream of air tickling your lips. the pink of his lips is too enticing to ignore any longer. you lean forward to press your lips against his. they’re a lot softer than you imagined they would be and the sweet notes of alcohol linger on them. you drink in the familiar flavor with a moan which makes iwaizumi’s grip on your hips tighten. he dips his head down to deepen the kiss, turning it into a dance of tongues and clashing of teeth that almost makes you forget what led up to this.
you can’t be sure who pulls away first but you’re both breathless the moment you do. iwaizumi’s cheeks are flushed red and his lips are plump and swollen. you almost laugh at the sight before remembering your audience. your orbs scan the surrounding crowd for the creep who had been eyeing you like a piece of meat but, luckily, he’s nowhere to be found. you turn back to iwaizumi with a smile, readying to talk about what just happened when the bag at your side begins to buzz.
you untangle your hands from around iwaizumi to reach for your phone. the screen lights up with a stream of notifications. it’s a bunch of texts from your friend that you came here with—she hasn’t seen you since she got back from the bathroom.
after sending her a quick reply, you drop the device back into your bag and look up at iwaizumi with a bittersweet smile. “i think that’s my five minutes.”
iwaizumi’s hands fall to his sides with your words. was that kiss so hypnotizing that it made him forget the time limit you had put on your faux relationship? it seemed that was the case. “thanks a lot for lending me a hand,” you smirk, “or your lips.”
“yeah,” he nods, “no problem.”
you raise your hand in a goodbye wave but, despite the gesture, you stick around. maybe it’s a little presumptuous of you to assume that iwaizumi feels the same way, but you don’t want this to be the last time you see him like this. “hey, if you want to do this again, in a more conventional way, you know where to find me.” and with that parting statement, you blend into the mass of partygoers.
iwaizumi stands frozen in that spot watching your retreating figure. the only thing on his mind is the next time he’ll see you so that he can properly ask you out.
“what the hell man?” a muscled arm wraps around iwaizumi’s neck and he immediately recognizes it as matsukawa’s. “you say you’re going to get another round but you actually sneak off to make out with your girlfriend? cold, hajime.” he can’t see the grin on issei’s face, but he can hear that he’s getting a rise out of this.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” iwaizumi counters, slinging matsukawa’s arm off of him. just as quickly as it’s gone, another one replaces it, one more lean—hanamaki’s.
“no need to be shy, iwa,” his light-haired friend speaks up, the same humor in his voice as issei’s. “and don’t worry, we forgive you for not telling us about your girlfriend.”
“girlfriend?” oikawa comes to stand in front of the three with crossed arms and an expression of betrayal. “since when do you have a girlfriend?”
iwaizumi groans. “see what you two started?”
repost from a previous blog! just felt the urge to share it again, hope ya liked~ xoxo manz :3
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#iwaizumi fluff#haikyuu fluff#iwaizumi drabble#haikyuu drabbles
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I was pondering on what horrors to write for Halloween and when I remembered how many times I’d hoped for Valak content…I ran and whipped out my Grimoire and started typing in delirious inspiration.
Yandere! Valak x Reader
Featuring the Infernal President and a blissfully unaware reader backpacking through Romania. Warning: NSFW, blasphemy, non-consent
[Horror Masterlist]
“Mommy told me something
A little kid should know
It’s all about the Devil
And I’ve learned to hate him so
She said he causes trouble
When you let him in the room
He will never ever leave you
If your heart is filled with gloom”
"Now, you can't really say you've visited Romania until you see at least one monastery! Most Romanians are very religious, so churches and monasteries are popular attractions for tourists and locals alike." The tour guide is awfully enthusiastic for a cloudy Sunday morning. You nod politely and follow the group, although you can already feel yourself become distracted.
You're mostly interested in the old castles and bucolic hiking trails that Transylvania has to offer. Religious places...not so much. Alas, it's part of the experience. You check the flyer containing today's travel plans and google the location mentioned by the guide. Cârța Monastery. Seems to have some ruins included, and you'll be right on time for the Sunday chorus service, huh. Maybe that's why they picked today for a visit.
You hurry along the cobblestone path until the first traces of a building come into view. Somehow you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You scan over the visible windows, wondering if someone is watching from above. Nothing. Once you lower your gaze again, you notice the tour guide vigorously waving his arm and encouraging you to enter the church with everyone else. You were at the very front of the group, so how long did you stare at walls? You flash an apologetic smile and rush inside. The wooden door closes with a grating creak and you fumble to the first available seat. There's a few coughs and shuffles and eventually the Liturgy begins. Your eyes wander until they find a clear window, so you entertain yourself with the sights outside. It's not like you understand the words of whatever is currently happening, and you're not religious to begin with.
"How long is this going to take?" you groan internally and switch your focus to your hands, intertwined and resting in your lap. The monotonous chants cause your eyelids to feel heavy and they gradually lower themselves until all you see is black. It's okay, you're not sleeping. It's just a short nap, until...huh...the voices of the singing men diffuse as if distorted by distance and now everything is quiet.
"Took you long enough."
You jolt awake. You turn your head to check if whoever is sitting next to you has just spoken, but the room is suddenly empty. You jump from your seat and the thud of your feet hitting the stone floor creates a cavernous echo that sends a shiver down your spine. Ah, could it be that you're dreaming? The candles of the chandelier flicker, as if startled by a breeze, and abruptly go out.
"I don't like waiting. Especially for mere humans like you."
The same voice as before reverberates through the chamber. It's deep and jarring, sounding almost unnatural. You don't like it. You tilt your head, afraid to find the source of speech but too curious nonetheless. It's a person dressed like a nun. For a brief second you relax your shoulders, assuming it's one of the people living here. But after one step ahead the figure becomes vaguely illuminated, and you can discern the features bearing on this creature's face. Blood drains from your face and you can feel the bile pooling at the back of your throat. A blasphemous deformity, oozing with blight and evil. From within the hollow, dark sockets, two yellow orbs glisten with raw malice. You realize you've held your breath until now as your lungs contract in a pitiful attempt to pump more oxygen. The movement brings back your senses and your flight instincts kick in. You immediately sprint for the door and use your elbow to slam it open, nearly collapsing to the ground. Your eyes squint under the flash of bright light.
As you pant for air you notice you're back outside. There's people taking photos and talking cheerfully, and inside the church your group seems to have gathered before the iconostasis, listening attentively to a hearty discourse from your guide. The liturgy ended. What on Earth did you just witness? Before you can ponder the event, you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's an old lady, short and comically hunched. She's dressed all in black, with a head covering that hides most of her face, though you can still see the deep wrinkles that cross her features.
"Oh? Sorry, I don't speak-"
"L-am văzut și eu. Diavolul, maică. Aici nu mai e demult casa Domnului. Pleacă cât mai poți, am să mă rog pentru tine."
Her voice is shaky and she seems in distress. She strokes your arm once before limping away hastily. You blink and spend a moment trying to collect your thoughts. There's no one else nearby to ask for a translation, so you can only hope she finds help somewhere else. You return to the group and hope you won't have to deal with any other adventures.
"This is the annex. You can still see some details in the arches." Your guide points around the pillars and mossy brick patches. You take out your phone for some photos and your arms tremble slightly.
"It's suddenly very cold here, don't you think so?" you remark to your neighbor.
"Really? I'm quite literally sweating right now" they respond, baffled.
"It's a shaded area, that's probably why."
"Or you're just that excited to see me again."
Your eyes widen. It's the voice. You blink, and you find yourself in the empty church once more. No, no, no, this isn't happening. No. You're dreaming. This is an absurdity. Some hallucination of sorts. You try the door handle, except this time it's locked.
"It's not often I become interested in a mortal. In fact, this is the only time."
The nun is sitting on a bench, hands together in a praying motion. There's a mocking grin on its face.
"Maddening, truly. Deplorable, disgraceful, outrageous. Humiliation would await me if they suspected my intentions with a perishable being like you."
"Who the hell are you?" you interrupt the erratic monologue. The nun stands up and locks eyes with you, instantly making you nauseous.
"The Sixty-second Spirit, President Mighty and Great. His Office is to give True Answers of Hidden Treasures, and to tell where Serpents may be seen. The which he will bring unto the Exorciser without any Force or Strength being by him employed. He governeth 38 Legions of Spirits."
"What?"
"Valac." the creature extends a hand, as if expecting a handshake. "At least that's how they introduce me in the Lesser Key of Solomon." The fingers spread out and you feel a gravitational force pull you closer. It chuckles.
The cold fingers sink into your back and feel like claws digging your flesh. You let out a scream of protest and try to push away without success. It hurts. The touch burns your skin and spreads out like a wicked plague. What would this fiend even want from you? You search your mind for potential meanings and explanations. Truth be told, however, you're not well-versed in theological fantasies.
"You can't just possess someone's body. I won't accept it. You don't have my permission."
The creature erupts in hysterical laughter and you feel your knees weaken at the sharp, grotesque teeth that creep their way out. Everything about it is vile, scandalous. Unholy.
"If you want to call it like that...Then sure. But for this kind of possession I don't need your input, I'm afraid."
Your limp body is picked up and sloppily thrown over the altar table. The impact of the hard surface against your stomach causes you to gasp. You try to turn your head and look behind, but the large, clawed hand locks around your neck and keeps you in place. You can only glance ahead. You can sense your garments being ripped apart with one swift move and shudder at the unexpected contact with the cold air on your bare body. The creature's other hand slides over your forms before stopping on your bottom, adjusting it. The realization sinks in and you begin to panic. Is this the time to say a prayer? You don't know any.
"Our Father..." you mumble, trying to remember the continuation.
"Go on. I'm sure He'd love to hear from you while you're being fucked on His altar. Send Him my regards."
He forces your hips upwards, exposing your intimacy. Without any further delay he thrusts his member in, painfully stretching your entrance around it. Tears well up in your eyes at the sudden discomfort. The iconostasis in front of you blurs and sways with each violent plunge into your frail body.
"Oh, God" you sob.
"God ends here."
#the nun#the nun 2#the conjuring#valak#valac#valak x reader#valak smut#the nun smut#yandere#yandere x reader#demon x reader#ars goetia
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