#if i want to feel even a little better it should be five times that
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Better kind of best friend (part 2)
Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader
Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n, slight dacryphilia
Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...
Moth's prophecy💡 : Hi cryptids ! Thank you for being so supportive, here is the awaited part two with the arrival of Charles ! You can find part one here if you haven’t read it yet. For the sake of it being easier to read for everyone, the dialogues between Alex and Charles are written in English, even though they would speak French between them. We got some angst, we got some very light suggestive content, we got some manic episodes, and that should leave us with the tasty fucked up shit for the last (two lasts ?) chapters. Enjoy !
“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”
In a fraction of second, the room felt very cold. You suddenly took into account the breeze from the open window, and the uncomfortable scratch of the hair curlers against your scalp, itching to get off. The taste of red wine on your tongue started to feel like a thick paste, making it hard to breathe, and as you got up and away from Alexandra, your head spun, as if you had been hit by a ton of bricks. You needed some air.
“Wait !” Alexandra tried to hold your hand, bring you back down to the ground, but her fingers felt like fire against your skin, and not the enjoyable type. You tried to get away, so she rose up, closing the gap to you. “Please, listen to me… I’m sorry, I know I should have told you earlier…”
You could barely make out her voice with the sounds of the street below her apartment. And why was she looking at you like that, like a deer caught in headlights, like… Like she pitied you ? You felt sick.
“Yeah… Yeah, you should have.” You probably should have felt embarrassed yourself. Shameful you even tried something. But you quickly realized the sickness you felt was not due to shame or sadness, but anger. Two full months had passed, and not more than a day or two had gone by where you hadn’t been together. “Not once, in two months, did you think of mentioning it ?”
You heard yourself as if someone else was speaking. Thoughts swirling in your mind, replaying each of her words and action. Had you missed a hint somewhere ? Were you in the wrong here ? You could replay the movie a hundred times and still, you were sure you would find no flaw. All the nights she had fell asleep in your arms, all the kisses she had peppered your skin with, all the touches and the petnames, now you could see clearly how inappropriate they would have been for anyone with a boyfriend.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her breathing got heavier and tears started coming to her eyes, yet you had never felt so little pity towards someone. “I didn’t want it to change what we have, and it all got so confusing so quickly for me, I…”
“Because it wasn’t confusing for me ?” You raised your voice at her. You probably should not have, but she had just half-admitted to knowing her behavior had crossed some boundaries. “Please tell me you are in an open relationship. Please Alex… tell me you haven’t just lied to me.” You were pleading, begging. Don’t they say bargaining is one of the five stages of grief ? But her silence and shameful eyes gave you every answer you needed.
“I didn’t lie I… I just didn’t talk about it…”
“It’s the same fucking thing !” Definitely pushing her arms away from you, you started to gather your things from the floor of her living room. Thankfully, you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet, you thought, or the scene would have been even more embarrassing.
“I didn’t know what to do !” Tears now rolling down her pink cheeks, she was following you around, words tumbling down in a rush to get her point across. “It all happened so quickly and he’s not home and you… You’ve been everything to me, please trust me ! Y/N, please stop !” She tugged at your arm once more, and cupped your face between her hands. Still crying, she planted a soft kiss on your lips, trembling, but this time, you were the one who pulled away. “I’ve never felt this way for a girl before… I’ve never had feeling like this for another woman, or anyone truly and-“
“Oh no.” You immediately cut her off and took two steps back. “No, this is not happening.” Throwing your things in your bag in a hurry, you couldn’t even look at her anymore or else you were sure you would end up either giving in or spitting to her face. “I am not about to be your little uni experiment, your fucking distraction before you go back to the safety of a man’s arms.”
Putting your bag on your shoulder and throwing her curlers to the floor, you gave her one last look, filled with all the anger and disappointment you could muster. So that was it, then ? Fuck it, even crying she was pretty. She had fallen back down to her knees and for a second, you saw yourself laying above her, kissing her wet cheeks, brushing her hair. Maybe you could have her for a night, a few days, a parenthesis of happiness until the man returned. It could not last, but it could exist. Scraping the last bits of this relationship like the bottom of a candle, and you would keep the remnants of it in a secret part of your brain until the year ended. But you knew the pain would be too much. And it wasn’t why you came here in the first place.
“I know what I’m worth, Alex. And I’m worth more than that.”
“Ah cazzo per l’amor del cielo Y/N !” You hid yourself deeper under the cover of your bed as Chiara barged in your room. “Get out !” She pulled on the blanket, as you sighed and whined, too tired to fight. The ginger girl crouched next to you, eyes pleading. “Please make her leave, she’s been knocking on the door since we kicked her out and we can’t close, Marco forgot his keys.” She took one of your hand in hers to help you sit on the edge. “If you don’t, I honestly can’t promise she won’t come in during the night and I actually want to sleep for once. So please. Go.”
You nodded bashfully as she left the room, visibly annoyed. For two weeks now, all eight other students had had to deal with the awkward mood your friendship breakup had installed in the workshop. And that implied, unfortunately for your roommates, Alex coming in at unholy hours, begging to be heard. It was honestly a miracle no one had told you two to fuck off until now.
You pushed the curtains back as quietly as possible, peeking through the window at the entrance of the house. And indeed, there she was, banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and got up to put a coat over your pajamas. In your closet, not-so-well hidden, the scarf she had left you not long before it all went to shit… Your fingers brushed slightly over it, but you left it in place, and headed down the stairs. In the smallest living room, sipping tea and glancing at you, were your two German roommates. You mouthed a “sorry” at them, and opened the door, immediately pushing Alex away from it.
“Stop it before they call the cops on you.” You crossed your arms and took a good look at her. Fiddling with the worn-out sleeves of a sweater your recognized as yours, she looked exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, she was far from the walking ray of sunshine you had known. You sighed, and started walking towards the parking lot a bit further down the main path, where you knew she had probably parked. “Come. We’ve bothered them enough.”
She followed without making a sound, her head down. You recognized her car, and sat on the small low wall facing it. She tried to sit next to you, but when she felt you move away, decided to stay up. You looked at each other for a while, your silence only interrupted by a few night birds’ chirps and the waves down in the bay.
Two weeks had passed since what you called in your head “the accident”. And if you had trouble living with the aftermath, Alexandra was taking it even worse than you. In order to protect yourself and allow to maybe, one day, recover something good from it, you decided to keep your interactions strictly confined to the subject of the workshop. Considering your two roles had very little to share at this point of the project, it meant that you were pretty much free to ignore her without being too much of a bitch. And lord knew it would have been too hard to stay mad at her with extended contact. Even right now, as she raised her doe eyes at you, you could feel your confidence faltering.
When you were alone in your bed at night, cuddling the plushie she had won you at the funfair, that was when you questioned if you were doing the right thing. After all, she had not promised you anything. You had lived in fantasies, daydreams of a romance carefully crafted by your need for love. Maybe she was like that with all of her friends. Maybe you could go back to being friends.
But no. She had confessed to knowing. To lying. To having feelings too. There was no coming back from this. Only growth and lessons. And right now, this meant for you some space.
“Well, are you going to talk ?” She opened her mouth, then seemed to reconsider, and you groaned. “It’s already 10 and I’m freezing cold, if you got nothing to say I’m leaving.” You started to get up but she put her hands up.
“Wait ! Okay wait sorry, please stay…” You sat back down, closing your coat tighter. “Thank you. I… Okay hm. Putain. Bon.” She took an inspiration, and you knew this meant she was going to talk non stop until her mouth ran dry. “I’m sorry about everything that happened, from our meeting to tonight. I fucked up. I omitted things and I lied and I did everything I could to stay in your good graces because I grew so fond of you so quickly I didn’t know how to deal with it. I really thought we could be best friends and you know I’ve never been really good with girl friendships I told you about it and I admit I may have crossed the line a bit, once or twice but-“ You could not help but scoff. “What ?”
“Sorry, please do go on”
“No, what, tell me ?” She raised her hand to you, and you did not take it.
“Once or twice ? A bit ?” Her lips started trembling and you stopped her before she could start talking again. “Alex. Friends don’t do any of the shit we did. Friends probably don’t sleep almost naked together and cuddling ! God damn it, you hand-fed me pastries in my bed, and you think that’s a little over the line ?” You heard yourself screaming and tried to take a deep breath, but the freezing air only made your lungs hurt even more.
“I’m sorry ! I wish I could tell you I didn’t know but…” She was shaking, from stress or the cold, you did not know. Finally she raised her eyes, and you felt like she was going to be honest, with herself and you, for the first time in weeks. “But the truth is I knew. I knew there could be something more and I wanted it too. I… I think I still want it. But there’s-“
“There’s your boyfriend. Honestly Alex, with all due respect, fuck off. How can you tell me that straight in the eye ? I’m not some homewrecker, and to be completely honest with you” You got up and took a step forward, pushing your index finger against her shoulder. “Even if you guys broke up I wouldn’t want anything with you.” Wow. Nice lie. But at least it seemed to hurt her in all the right places. “You should have experimented back when you were single like everyone else. You played with my feelings, knowing them and knowing we had no chance at anything serious. I did not have a say in this !” At this point you were very thankful you were the only house around, because you were fully screaming. “All I wanted was to make some fucking friends Alex ! And no friend in their right mind would have done what you did to me. So please, if you have nothing more than empty apologies and more pain to offer… please leave.”
“I really like you.” She breathed out the words in a whisper, and it broke the last loose screw of your sanity.
“And I love you !” There. Out it was, your great love confession, blown away by the wind of the sea, destined to forever belong only to the cries of the seagulls. In the end, it wasn’t so hard to say. “But sometimes it’s not enough. Love isn’t enough.” Turning your back to her, you thought this was truly the end. Nothing was salvageable from that night. “Goodnight Alexandra.”
You almost ran back up the parking lot to the gate of the house, through the living room now empty, and up the stairs. You were about to enter your room, but went to the one to your left, Chiara’s. Her window was opened and she was sitting on the edge of it, smoking a joint. Of course, she had heard everything.
“Trouble in paradise ?”
“Fuck off.” You went next to her, taking the joint from her hands. From her seat, she had had a direct view of the whole scene, sound and light.
You took a drag, almost immediately coughing. The weed was disgusting, not half as good as the one you were used to, and Chiara gave you a look of approval, a kind of “it’s the only thing I could find”. Without knowing how or why, you broke down in tears.
When Charles finally hung up from his phone call with his manager, he raised his eyes to see that the taxi had already entered Monaco. The morning light was piercing through the clouds, shining on the wet pavement as to signal the end of the week-long downpour.
Finally home, he thought. He could not wait to be back at his apartment, and enjoy the rare two and a half weeks break before the last races of the year. The flight had been so long, his whole body was still sore from yesterday’s race, and still he was excited for the day to come. He would come home, and have Alexandra greeting him as usual, full of anecdotes and gossips to share. He would give her the gifts he had prepared, and then they would order from the Chinese restaurant they loved. Eat together, chill a bit, probably have sex. Then tomorrow they would go to his mom’s, take the opportunity to get a haircut, and maybe see some friends. He grinned at the perspective of a few days unplanned, going with the flow. Those were so rare nowadays.
The excitement made him tip the driver even more than usual, and he went up the stairs running, his bags almost scattering on the floor multiple times. But as he opened the door, still smiling, his excitement quickly faded. The apartment was completely empty, as if no one had been in it in weeks. He entered carefully, calling for Alexandra, but no answer. Every room still smelled of cleaning products, proof that except for the cleaning lady last Wednesday, it had been desert of any life.
Charles, starting to worry, tried calling his girlfriend multiple times, to no avail. So he threw all of his bags in the bedroom, changed his sweater, took his car keys and double of hers and decided to go check her own apartment. She was never in it, but maybe something had happened ? Thankfully, word hadn’t yet gone out that he was back, which means he was able to get his car out and through Monaco’s streets without any trouble.
The sight when he opened her door was even worse than at his own place. The usually immaculate apartment was in a mess, clothes everywhere on the floor, dishes piling up in the sink, and a good amount of paper bags from food orders scattered across the kitchen. In all of this, a few sobs could be heard.
“Alex ? Mon amour, where are you ?” Charles called out, voice cracking with concern as he navigated the mess in the apartment, searching for any sign of his girlfriend.
Finally, he found her curled up on the couch, hidden under a blanket, desperately sobbing and shaking as she held close a huge plushie he did not recognize. Charles rushed to her side, dropping to his knees next to the couch and wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled him in closer, drenching his sweater in tears.
“Hey, hey breathe love… what’s wrong, tell me what’s going on ?” He murmured and tried to hold her face to his, but she would always push back against his neck.
He finally managed to cup her cheeks and started to kiss her face, repeating again and again that she had to breathe. He honestly did not know what to do, he had never seen her so vulnerable, so… broken ? His heart shattered at the mere thought of what could have brought her to this point.
“I- I fucked up Charles…” Alexandra chocked out, her voice breaking in uncontrollable sobs. If she had managed to talk, she would now not let go of his arms, and Charles winced as she buried her nails in them.
“Baby tell me what happened, it can’t be that bad, it’s okay we’ll manage…”
Suddenly Alex’s eyes stayed fixated on Charles’, and her tears calmed down, along with her erratic breathing. She seemed to realize something, and started apologizing profusely. When she managed to talk again, Charles was completely lost as to what had happened.
“I’m sorry… it’s nothing, it’s just… It’s Y/N” Charles nodded. He was actually pretty excited to come back also for you, the mysterious new friend of Alex which she wouldn’t stop teasing him about. She supposedly wanted him to meet you, and Charles had been witness to so many attempts from Alex at making girl friends, he was glad she had finally managed. You seemed like a good person, from what he heard. “We… we got into an argument. We’re not friends anymore. It was my fault and it’s over.”
Charles’ brows furrowed as he helped Alex get out of the blanket. That was it ? Sure, you had seemed like an good friend to Alex, but she had lost a few friends along the way growing up, and none had ever provoked such an extreme reaction. He glanced around the room again, at the state of the whole apartment. But when his eyes landed back on Alexandra, he could feel the plea on her face to not dig much more.
Of course there was more to it. But what kind of friend’s argument would lead to someone completely breaking down like that ?
As Charles held his girlfriend to his chest, rubbing her back and slowly calming her down, he glanced at her phone, and decided he would probably get more directly from you.
Well shit, it was fancy. As you entered the restaurant in the most luxurious part of Monaco, you started to really regret your choice of clothing. Even the lady in charge of welcoming clients eyed you up and down before raising a brow, clearly not impressed.
“I have a reservation ? Well someone invited me, his name’s Charles ?” You could feel yourself blushing as she gauged you.
She then gestured for you to wait to the side as she left towards the back of the restaurant. When she came back, it was to tell you to follow her.
Hidden behind the bar, far from any windows, were a few booths, carefully covered with flower arrangements and ivy leaves curtains. In the one you followed the lady to, a man was sitting, probably around your age, with light brown hair and piercing green eyes. Some curls were falling down on his forehead, and when he raised his head and smiled at you, dimples immediately appeared. Of course he was cute. Of course she had to have a gorgeous boyfriend too.
“Y/N ! Am I pronouncing it right ?” He stood up and thanked the lady, then gestured you to sit in front of him. You nodded and sat back down with him. “So nice to finally meet you ! I’ve heard so much.”
You couldn’t say the same, unfortunately, and the chuckle that left your mouth couldn’t have been repressed even if you tried.
You thanked him, and as he gave you time to scan the menu, you could not prevent yourself from stealing glances. He was dressed pretty casually too, which made you feel better about your own outfit, but you got the same feeling from him as you did from Alexandra when you first met her. There was something rich about the man, luxurious, in the way he presented himself, smiled and talked. And god, the more you looked at him, the more you could tell why she had fallen in love with him. This was the kind of guy you only ever saw in magazines, too pretty to be true. You felt yourself getting dizzy, and put your attention back on the menu. You were probably tired and in need of caffeine, why else would you feel so weak ?
Yet you had no idea he was doing the exact same thing, going over every little detail of your face and posture in his head. He had heard from you, sure, but not as much as he told, and most importantly, he had never seen you, even in pictures. Nothing could have prepared him, honestly. There was something about you, he wasn’t sure if it was physically or in the way you held yourself, that made his heart flutter. Suddenly he felt a bit shy, and completely unable to stop peeking at you. But he quickly reminded himself of why he was here, and chased his thoughts as far away as possible.
“Thank you for coming, first of all.” You gave him a polite smile and thanked the waiter for your coffee. “I’ll be honest with you, especially on the matter of why Alex isn’t here.” There it was. You shifted in your seat, a bit uncomfortable. The closest exit was in sight, thankfully, in case he made a scene or started to threaten you. You had no idea what he knew, and it scared you a bit. “I… I came home two days ago. And Alex was…” He sour laughed, and started playing with his spoon. “A mess. I think it’s the best way to say it. I tried to make her talk but… only thing she gave away is that you two had an argument ? And that it was her fault. But I’ve never seen her like that before. I… I would like, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know what happened.”
Oh shit. So she hadn’t told him anything. Well of course, lie by omission seemed to be her thing. Were you really about to be the one to break the news to her boyfriend, who by the way seemed like a sweetheart, that her girlfriend had almost cheated ?
He gave you an encouraging smile, and you gripped your cup tighter. Why did they have to look so much alike. Everything about him was warm, kind, you could not hurt him even if you tried. What would it bring you, to do that ? Break them up ? And then what ? She was too out of it to do anything good with herself on her own. He seemed like a good person. And you were not a home wrecker. Sure, you didn’t work out. But maybe they could. You were the problem, she hadn’t fully cheated, she still had a chance at fixing up her couple. Who would you be to deny her.
“I don’t have much more to say honestly. We had a disagreement, one of which you can’t work through sometimes. It’s okay.” You gave a forced smile, and Charles was confident in that instant that there was more to it. This kind of painful conclusion, he knew them too well.
“Are you sure ? You seem upset.” You crossed your arms and he felt like he had maybe pushed too far.
“Yes. It’s been tough but I’ll get through it, and Alex will too. Maybe we’ll work it out, maybe we won’t, that’s our problem I’m afraid. Sorry you had to deal with the aftermath.”
You saw in his pinched lips, in the way his eyes scanned you, that he wanted to press further. But you wouldn’t be the truth bearer. You had done enough. Alex’s commitment to honesty would be his only way of finding out. And it seemed he realized it, because he nodded, and thanked you.
You thought you were done, but he shifted the conversation to lighter topics, your life in Monaco, how the workshop was going. He seemed really interested, and you realized you hadn’t made as much friends as you wished because of your closeness with Alex. So you gave in to the attention. And you realized you craved it, especially when it came from people who seemed a life away from you.
“What about you ? Out of state often, I understood ?”
“Why don’t you take a guess ?” He rested his face on his closed knuckles, and you closed the gap to him, faking analyzing his face. This made him chuckle, and his laugh tugged at your heart in ways you weren’t sure you liked.
“You don’t look like a business man.” He faked an offended face, then winked. Were all monegasques raised to be teases ? “Out often and comfortable with money ? We’re in a private booth where the staff seems to know you… I’d say an athlete maybe ?”
“Bingo !” He made his spoon ring on the rim of your cup, and sat back against his chair. There was a coolness in the way he moved and talked, something mesmerizing.
You thought he was collected. Truth is, thoughts raced through his brain at light speed and the more you talked, the less he listened. If there was something they had always agreed on was with Alexandra, it was that being in a relationship did not mean you found everyone but your partner disgusting suddenly. They were honest about their admiration for other’s looks and personalities, both convinced it was part of the human experience. And so he tried to persuade himself that this meeting was just that, another girl he just found pretty. And interesting. With a smooth voice. And nice fingers. Whose hair would probably look gorgeous laid out on his pillows. And fuck, he thought. That was not good. Not good at all.
Before he would start blushing again, mind filled with unholy pictures, he decided it was time to leave. You were a bit surprised at the abruptness of it, but agreed, you had things to do too. As you stood up, he looked a bit embarrassed.
“I know it might sound weird but… would you mind waiting a minute before leaving ? Giving me a head start.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and laughed. “Everything’s already paid for I’m not trying to scam you ! Just… I think it’s better for you if we don’t leave together.”
You furrowed your brows, not really understanding the request, but sat back down. You were too tired to fight about that.
“Thanks, you’re a dear. You have my number, let’s stay in touch !” And just like that, he was gone.
When you left the booth two minutes later, as requested, you heard a commotion right outside the restaurant. You quickly walked through the crowd gathering on the side of the terrace and started leaving when something caught your attention. A kid, screaming a name you had heard not so long ago.
You walked a bit further down the square and looked back to see Charles in the middle of the crowd, being photographed by paparazzis and families, signing autographs and struggling to get out. When he finally did manage, he entered a slick black car which looked like a million pounds, and left without even glancing back at the crowd.
“Charles… Monaco… Athlete…”You entered the words in Google, and found him immediately. A Formula 1 Driver. A fan favorite, it seemed. “Alex you bitch you could have warned me that he’s famous…”
Still, his request had got you out of a very sticky situation, and you were grateful you would not find yourself in newspapers tomorrow. So you switched to your text messages, and sent to Charles a thanks for the heads up.
Unknowingly to you, he sat in his parking lot for ten minutes before going back to his apartment, staring at his screen and blushing like a teenager.
Charles was tired. It had been more a week since his return, and Alexandra gave no signs of improvement, despite his tries. She would keep up the appearances in public, but made no effort at home, and avoided all friends or family gatherings he attended. And still, she would refuse to talk.
After he came back from having a drink with you, another one he did not tell Alexandra about, another one he had to sit out the excitement of in his car, another one that convinced him that you could be essential to making her feel better, because you made him feel good, he decided it was enough.
Alex was sitting on the couch, her plushie always glued to her, watching the cars go by. At least she had accepted to come back to his apartment. He brought her tea and took the plushie away from her, not without getting a whine in return.
“Alex, we need to talk.” She gave him her usual sad puppy eyes, but this time, Charles was decided to not let her manipulate him. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be here no matter what. But you have to tell me what happened. It can’t go on like that.” Finally she sighed and sat straighter on the couch, trading her sad eyes for the stone cold face she wore when he wasn’t around.
“Yeah you’re right.” She let out a shaky breath, betraying her anxiousness, then took Charles’ hands in hers. Finally, they would maybe be able to move on. Finally he might get back his lover. “I… I lied to you. About Y/N.” Obviously, thought Charles, and though he did not want to admit it, he had a small idea of why. She planted her eyes in his, and holding his hand tighter, finally said the truth out loud. “I never told Y/N about you. I never even told her I had a boyfriend. I should have been honest from the beginning, but it got confusing very quickly, and I didn’t want to ruin… I’d say our friendship but I know it was more than that.”
He knew it. It pained him to admit it, but he had had a feeling, and his instinct rarely lied. Now the only thing left was to find out how much had happened. Unable to speak up, he nodded to encourage her to keep going.
“I was scared of losing her and losing you. I told you about her because I thought if you two met, it would just be me and my two favorites people and everything would be great. I didn’t think further than that. But… but I knew she had feelings and I liked it, I liked having someone so… devoted to me.” That didn’t surprise him. Alex had always had a praise kink, worshipping her might be the fastest way to her heart. “And I guess I ended up falling for her too.”
As Alexandra’s voice became shakier, he knew he was touching the main subject. It was already a lot, he needed to process, but he needed the full picture for it.
“Mon coeur, I need you to be completely honest. Did something happen between you two ?” He saw her hesitating for a moment, before nodding, her gaze fixed on their hands still holding.
“Yes.” She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We kissed… I pulled away but I didn’t want to.”
Charles finally pulled his hands away from hers and got up. He felt hurt. Betrayed. Used. He had been kept in the dark both by his own girlfriend and you, truly the butt of the joke. Yet he felt empty of any anger. He looked at the little decorations in the living room. They would be so easy to smash. Probably satisfying. Yet when he brushed his fingers against it, he only managed to push them back in their exact place, all perfectly symmetrical. Strangely, it brought him more comfort than punching something.
“Are you not going to say anything ?” Her voice was still shaky, he could feel she tried very hard not to cry. And the only thing he wanted was for her to break down so he could hold her as close as possible and kiss her tears.
“What does this mean for us ?” He turned back to her, and she tried to hold his gaze.
“I don’t know… I’m in love with you. I know you probably want to tell me to fuck off but I need to say the truth. This has taken nothing from us, from what I feel for you. If anything, I’m finally feeling better now that you’re back. But I can’t deny that I had never thought about… about me, and another girl, like I did with her. I’ve never felt this way, it was like my heart was so full it could explode. I don’t know what I wanted from it Charlie, I… Nothing good could have happened, I fucked up, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you.” Finally, she lost it. Tears streaming down her face, she looked exhausted. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I can’t loose you I’ll do anything but I can’t live without you Charlie…”
Charles sat next to her and she threw herself in his arms, sobbing. He could not tell her. What would he even say ? “No worries baby, I can’t even manage to get angry at you for almost cheating because I think daily of fucking the friend you had a homoerotic codependent friendship with ?”. Or maybe “I wish I could focus on reassuring you that I’m still in love with you but telling you you’re pretty when you cry is not a compliment my mom taught me ?”. In the end, he opted for kissing the top of her head and softly stroking her back.
“Okay Alex okay… calm down… We’re gonna manage…” He gave her hand a squeeze, and drying some tears with a finger, kissed her cheek. “We’ll get through this together.”
Unfortunately for Charles, Alexandra’s moods swings came back full force, and soon enough she was back to shaking in his arms, this time from despair, hands clenched into fists on her knees.
“Why… why are you so calm about this ?” She demanded, voice trembling and brows furrowed. “I’ve just confessed to kissing someone and you act like it’s no big deal !”
Charles knew all of this, knew he should be angry, and he barely stopped himself from chuckling when he looked at the little statues he wanted to smash against the floor earlier. But he felt a strange sense of understanding and compassion which only made him calmer the more he let in his own fucked up thoughts.
“It’s not that I’m not upset, mon coeur.” Charles said softly, choosing his words carefully. “I just think maybe now’s not the right time to talk about this. You’re clearly exhausted and you’ve already been very honest with me. You need to rest. And I need to process some things.”
She agreed, her shaking slowing down once more, and he finally convinced her to have a shower and get to bed. She did so without arguing more, and Charles went on his balcony, completely worn out. When he opened his phone, he was greeted with a message that made his heart jump once more.
“Thx again for the evening, it was so fun ! Hope you got home safely, xoxo”
Looking at the light of his bedroom that just turned on, he chose not to answer. The rollercoaster had been enough for today, he needed a rest too.
Though he had struggled, Charles had managed to convince Alexandra he had no intent of breaking up with her, and even that going with him to the second to last race would do her good. The weather was still good in Qatar, she could see the girls, get spoiled and pampered. He knew it would take time to get her back, and maybe she would never be exactly the same. But he wouldn’t stop trying.
On your side, you had been forced to retreat to your bedroom with your computer as none of your roommates seemed to enjoy having the race on the living room main screen at 6 in the morning. You did not care much yourself, Charles had tried to explain some basic things to you before he left but none of it was familiar for someone like you who didn’t even have her driving licence. Still, supporting friends, right ? It felt weird to call him a friend. Just as it had felt weird for Alex. You groaned, thinking that each time, you had been the problem. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else in the whole country ?
When your eyes laid back on the screen, you got reminded why. Because in his fireproof suit, sweating and winking at the camera, you had to scratch your brain with a knife to even think back of any men with as much charisma. Because his skin was soft and his hair smelt good, you knew it and you wouldn’t dare to say how. Because seeing behind him in the interview the girl you still were in love with did not diminish your attraction in the slightest. If anything, you almost threw your computer to the ground when the thought of what they looked like together kissing came to your mind.
When you came out of the bathroom, a few hours later, your phone was ringing. You answered with a smile to the man whose voice was filled with both exhaustion and excitement.
“Hey Charles ! Nice race out there !”
“Did you manage to follow everything ?”
“I did not remember shit of what you told me !” You laughed, and heard him do the same. “But you finished third ! That’s good in any sport, right ?”
“Yeah, good enough we’ll say, could have done better though.” You pictured him as he spoke, hands scratching the nape of his neck, a little smirk making his dimples appear. “Thank you for watching. I appreciate it.”
He sat on the side of his hotel bed, smiling like a child. He didn’t even know why he called you. He had plenty of people around to congratulate him. Yet it was always nice to know someone far thought of him.
“Charles…” Your voice was suddenly tinged with concern. You had seen the polite smiles and waves to the press. But you knew her, and you knew it had not gotten better. And you were done being the big girl, you needed to know. “Is Alex ok ? I’ve seen her on TV and she looks… well you know. Still not herself.”
He got back up and walked to the window, thinking of what to say. Though you had kept in touch since your first meeting, he hadn’t told you of Alex’s confession. Maybe it was time.
“Yeah… It’s been rough for her, hm… Y/N I’ve been made aware of some things and… now’s not the right time, but when we’re back in Monaco, with Alex, I think… I think we should have a talk, the three of us.”
Your heart jumped at the suggestion, guilt eating you out. So he knew. You looked at the stairs, echoes of your roommates’ laughter coming from downstairs. Yeah, you really needed some new friends, before you were about to loose another one.
“I- I’ll be there.” Charles thanked you and ended the call, promising to keep you updated. As he turned around, his own guilt trip was waiting for him in the form of Alexandra, who had just entered the room.
He braced himself for an argument. The new information of him talking to her… whatever you were for her, would surely trigger confusion, and anger. She would tell him that he was not better than her. She would probably put the blame on you. Would she try to hit him ? Mind drifting completely elsewhere, he thought it would be fun to see her try, before punching himself mentally to focus. But when she finally spoke, nothing could have prepared him.
“It’s not fair.” Her voice was breaking but she wasn’t crying, fists clenched. “It’s not fair that she’s not talking to me ! Why won’t she talk to me anymore !” She wasn’t upset because he had been talking to you. She was jealous your attention had been shifted to someone else. And as she paced around the room, Charles sat on the bed, thinking that the manic episode was about to start. “I miss her. I need her.” She came close to him and the way she held his shoulders and forced him to look her in the eye both scared and excited him. “And if my only way of getting her back is you, you best believe I’m taking my chances.”
As the day went on and Charles witnessed the evolution of his girlfriend’s almost-psychotic episode, he thought that maybe some of her ideas weren’t so bad. In the end, he wasn’t the only one who had been a little too obsessed with you recently. What if the way out of this for them, as a couple, was simply to give in ?
So he confessed to everything. Listened. Gave his opinion. Kissed every centimeter of skin he could and agreed with every idea she moaned out loud as she bounced up on him. And when she fell asleep in his arms, smiling, Charles thought that the price to pay for a ray of sunshine wasn’t so bad.
Something had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but you felt as if you were nothing more than an antelope being hunted in one of those wildlife documentaries you used to watch as a child.
Why had you even dressed up ? The dress wasn’t comfortable and way too light for December, your hair was tied too tight, but at least the staff didn’t look down on you this time. When Charles said you looked gorgeous, you thought it was not so bad, and sat straighter.
It was your first time seeing the two of them together somewhere else than on pictures. They were dressed to the nines, and matching perfectly, from the black velvety outfits to the silver of their jewelry. It seemed Alex had finally managed to sleep, because she looked as good as the first day, as good as the hot summer nights, as good as the time you kissed her. Charles was keeping on his hand on her thigh, and everytime he squeezed her, you felt like you were about to faint.
You tried to be cautious. Ordering alcohol to calm your nerves had probably not been the best idea, because at some point you weren’t able to remember if their voice had always been this sultry or if you were already tipsy.
They had apologized, both of them. Alex in great details, and this time you let her talk. To be honest, you were tired. It had been long enough. You missed your friend. When she said out loud every thought that ran through your head, your last arguments all flew away. Had the two of you not suffered enough ? Had Charles not been a great meeting ? There was so much more she wanted to share with you, and you only managed to whisper littles “yes”. She would be better, she said. She promised. The best of best friends.
And so when she touched your hand, you did not retreat. And when the both of them asked you what you thought, all red smiles and white canines, you barely managed to breath out.
“Yes, sure… let’s try being friends again.”
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @seoulie101 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3
#doomedmoth#fanfic#rpf#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1 rpf#f1 x you#f1 polyamory#dark!f1#poly!f1#y/n#formula one x reader#fluff#angst#suggestive#charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#alexandra saint mleux#alexandra saint mleux x reader#alexandra saint mleux x you#alexandra saint mleux x y/n#cl16#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x reader
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A Brand New Journey:
Part Five
(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)
Macaque has always been so good to you. Even from the first day you accidentally stumbled onto him, he had been kind.
Your arm had been gashed open by an unfortunate fall, dripping blood and throbbing in pain with each shaky step forward. Although you had hoped to get home before dark and patch yourself up with an ever dwindling first-aid kit, praying that there were enough bandages and antiseptic left for the wound.
But then there were two sets of footsteps close behind, spurring you to disregard caution and start sprinting down the street-
Whereupon you had bumped into one very strange demon, wearing an inconspicuous ru and sporting a tattered scarf.
“Going somewhere, kiddo? You shouldn’t be in such a rush, you now. You might get hurt. Ah, but…”
His hand then shot forward to clamp around your wrist, turning it over to examine your bleeding forearm.
“Looks like you already did, huh? Here, let me just…”
Rip. Shriiiip.
The precise shredding of thick fabric, his clawed fingers cutting a rectangular strip from the already ragged scarf. He had placed one end on your wrist, then gave you a strange grin.
“Hang in there, kiddo.” The simian warned you almost too late, given barely a second to brace for the stinging pain of having a wound forcibly bound shut with naught but pressure and cloth.
Biting back a wail and a set of fresh tears, you watched the monkey demon firmly tie off the end of the makeshift bandage.
It had been such a simple thing to do- but you still cherished him for it all the same.
How you’ve come to cherish your precious mentor, who stares down at you now with a strange smile.
Lifting a sleeve to your puffy eyes, an effort is made to stand up- only for Macaque to push you back down.
“I don’t think you’re steady enough for that just yet, kiddo.” Base words to convince you to do as he says, and you believe him. You always do.
Have you ever not believed him? Even for a moment, has there ever been any doubt in your heart?
He wraps the crimson scarf a little tighter around you, making sure that it covers your shoulders and neck.
“Now, what’d you bring all the way out here? You really should know better than to carry such a fancy bag in a neighborhood like this, kiddo.”
Was this all your fault?
Maybe you should’ve wrapped the mooncakes up in something less appealing- grabbed one of the disposable plastic brown sacks from a grocery store before heading in.
How easy would that have been?
“I wanted to share a meal with you,” is the dull response you give, newly downcast and despondent. “I brought mooncakes and tea.”
“Aww, aren’t you just a gem? Just the nicest.”
Nice. Anyone can be nice, can’t they? But it’s a lot harder to be clever or strong or capable.
Maybe he’d be happier with a different student.
Maybe if you were less nice and more-
“C’mon, kiddo- are you eating or not?”
He’s already got everything ready, the mooncakes strewn across his coffee table, the bottles of tea in the microwave.
Strange. You never even saw him get up.
He notices your questioning eyes, and quickly shifts the subject.
“Real sweet of you to bring this all the way out- I’m guessing you got a good deal, if you brought all of this?”
“Y-yeah! Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been using an app that tells me about local deals, y’know? Saves some money, and, um, all that.”
“Smart,” he praises, and a rush of euphoria races through you at just that one word. It feels almost pathetic to rely so heavily on someone’s praise to feel good about yourself. Still, you can’t help but adore each moment he breaks from his reserved norm and drops an honest compliment.
“Go put your stuff up and get changed, kiddo. I’ll pour the tea and get cushions.”
An actual sit-down meal with your mentor! You wouldn’t just be snacking and chatting on the couch this time!
Jumping to your feet, you excitedly race to the guest room, painted in a smooth purple and decorated with black curtains. He had essentially given it to you, letting you settle in with him at least semi-permanently.
A shelf right next to your bed is stocked with mementos, most of them memories you’ve shared with Macaque. A little snap-together set you had convinced him to put together with you, a bright mecha built from colorful blocks. By the end of the build, you had learned that he’d much rather watch than try to fiddle pieces together with his claws.
A framed photo beside it of something that Macaque had enjoyed much more- pumpkin carving. In place of a serrated knife or design card, he had taken great joy in simply shredding precise diamonds into the thick orange hide of the vegetable. The carved gourd had looked something like a lantern by the end of his fun. It had even put him a good enough mood to allow for a photo to be taken.
And you had a photo of you, MK, and Mister Pigsy to put up, but-
Enough reminiscing! Your mentor is waiting for you, after all.
You throw on the coziest thing you have in the closet- an old nightgown, long abraded to softness. Black as night and cool to the touch, decorated with purple cloud embroidery. And it never seemed to stop smelling of plums, a scent you had grown familiar with very quickly.
You aren’t quite sure where it came from, or when you got it- just that it’s a few sizes too big and pools around you comfortably.
Shoes off, bag placed carefully in the corner, and then you’re racing back out to meet Macaque in the living room.
You don’t notice two golden-eyed figures slinking out of the shadows and into your room.
The coffee table is prepared, the bottled tea is poured into mugs and the mooncakes are laid out two by two. He’s even put your little sitting cushion beside his instead of across.
You quickly take your seat, Macaque’s hand coming to ruffle your hair.
“Are we ‘expanding my horizons’ again today, kiddo? An ice cream day wasn’t enough?”
“I want you to try nice things,” is your protest, causing his golden eyes to soften.
“That’s… sweet of you,” he admits, folding his arms. “Really, Y/N.”
“…yeah,” you awkwardly respond, grabbing one of the napkins Macaque had set out. You grab one of the mooncakes and wrap it, then pass it to your mentor. “Do you, uh, know what’s inside this one?”
The sable simian lifts the pastry to his nose, sniffing intently. Quickly, his face scrunches up. “Tsk. More ice cream? Not in all of them, I’m hoping. Unless you’re trying to give me cavities, kiddo.”
“No, there’s only four with ice cream- and we’ve got two of them right now. I know you don’t like your food too sweet.”
“You’re a good kid,” he chuckles, biting into the mooncake. Vanilla ice cream leaks from the middle, oozing onto his tongue.
In turn you munch on your own, slowly leaning your head onto his shoulder.
Macaque doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your form, yanking you closer.
“You’re a good kid,” he says again, an ancient look in his golden eyes. There’s a newfound contentedness in them, and a pang of something much darker boiling underneath that new satisfaction. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
Swallowing down the last bit of the sweet pastry, you nod. “Sure, Macaque.”
“Nothing big- just I wanna know how you feel about me, kiddo.”
…something is scraping around in the room Macaque has fixed up for you.
“Keep looking,” a quiet and steady voice says. “They wouldn’t have just left it anywhere.”
“Shut up,” another angrily returns. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rumble! You’re lucky that I’m even helping you!”
“…you’re the one who wanted to come in here and look, Savage.”
“Shut up! Hurry up and throw me their bag!”
With a groan, Rumble carries your backpack to his ‘brother’ and drops it in front of him.
“Be quick,” he cautiously reminds. “Those mooncakes won’t last forever.”
“…I didn’t find the book,” Savage snarls, his crimson fingers hitting glass.
“But I did find something.”
And slowly, he pulls out the photo of you and your friends.
#Platonic Yandere#Yandere Macaque#Yandere Rumble#Yandere Savage#Yandere Lego Monkie Kid#Yandere LMK#Choose Your Own Adventure#A Brand New Journey#Yandere Mentor
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Perception Check Failed
Starlight Part 1
content established relationship, comfort, reader doesn't know what a crush is, heavy kissing
note(s) this is part 1 of a 2 part mini story but can be read as it’s own standalone story
Walking through the ruins of an old building you kicked up anything shiny. Noticing a pattern you determine you wouldn't get anything more than a few empty cans. Sighing you packed up what few cans you could salvage from the soot. Lucy was a few buildings down and you decide to meet up with her. Walking out of the husk you take a sharp left and keep as close to the buildings as possible ready to turn into an alleyway if needed. After a few minutes, you come to Dogmeat sitting patiently outside a still-standing building. Giving her a quick scratch behind the ears you enter the house. The doors are wide open, giving you the perfect view inside. Going room to room you see where Lucy had to exterminate some of the larger bugs plaguing the wasteland. It’s a nice spot. A few rooms surround an open-concept living room with a half-burned kitchen making up the downstairs. Cautiously you scale up the steps and make your way into a large open room with shards of furniture taking up most of the space. Calling out you watch as Lucy sticks her head out from behind a pile of bed frames with a smile lighting up her face.
“Lookie what I found,” She shoves her hand in the air showing off a small bag. “It’s a bag of stimpacks.”
Grinning you hurry over to her hiding spot. Taking the bag, you laugh as you take in the small pile of health. There are about five from what you can see and you gently trace your fingers over a red wire. Tying the bag up you shove it into Lucy’s open pack. She dusts off her hands and slings the pack over her shoulder.
“Not much in this neighborhood, it’s too close to where the bombs dropped.”
“Yeah, I only found a few cans. Thought we could string them together as a noise trap.”
She agrees and follows you down the steps and into the living room. Pausing you take in the clean state of the home. All the furniture had been moved upstairs so that left the rooms nice and empty. Chewing on your bottom lip you think about how much better this house would be.
“What if we stayed here for the night? Actually, stay inside a place for once?”
“We can see how everyone feels. You know Cooper would hate it. He prefers the great outdoors.” She mimics his accent for the last bit and causes both of you to laugh at the idea. You both walk side by side back the few miles to your small camp. You're happy to report nothing major happened on your way back. Going through the minuscule amount of things you brought back you decide now is as good a time as any to bring up your idea.
“I think we should stay in this house me and Luc found. It has plenty of rooms for each of us and it’s only a little ruined.”
You pause from shoving rope through crude holes to look up at the group. Maximus and Thaddeus immediately agree wanting to get out of the blistering heat and even more intense cold. Lucy and you agree alongside them which leaves four against two. Once he realizes it’s up to him and Cooper, Norm begrudgingly agrees.
“This ‘s a terrible idea, Wastelander. What if some’ne finds the place while y’all‘re sleepin’?”
“Maybe grow a backbone for once and actually help us out for once if you notice something?”
He scoffs and goes to continue with you when Lucy cuts him off.
“Okie Dokie, it seems like tensions are getting a little bit high so how about we all take a deep breath and think before we speak. Yeah?”
You take that deep breath, following her instructions as you glare heavily at Cooper. Completing the trap you shove it into your pack before hopping up.
”If we want to make it before sundown we have to go now.”
Making sure everyone was on the same page you start the trek back to the husk of a neighborhood. The miles are spent with Cooper feet away from the rest of the group and everyone paired with a duo. You’re glued to Norm’s hip as you keep a hand wrapped around his forearm. A few weeks ago he woke up almost like a new person. He stopped wearing his fear of the surface on his face and started holding himself with a little more confidence. When you first met he was timid and kept himself as tidy as possible. Always brushing his hair and trying to get it to lay perfectly against his forehead. Now he allows it to hang freely giving him a relaxed appearance. That plus the facial hair that naturally grew along his bottom and top lip have you eating out of the palm of his hand. You already knew you liked him from the first moment you laid eyes on him, but this was something different. Instead of burning in your face when he was near your stomach started to twist and knot every time he tried talking to you. You didn't quite understand why the sudden change but you made sure to keep him updated. Thick streaks of orange and pink fill the sky as you come upon your home for the evening. Entering the building you smile as everyone starts to claim rooms. Thaddeus takes the smallest opposite the kitchen, Lucy and Maximus take the room beside the staircase, and Cooper promises to stay in the living room ‘just in case’. That leaves the last room for you since Norm is suddenly offering to room with Thaddeus.
”What are you talking about? I assumed we would share a room.”
His face shows his signature nothingness and he wordlessly walks into the last empty room. You follow after him confusion written on your face. You think he might be mad at you but you can't think of the why. Clicking the door shut you're lucky that no big chunks are missing so you can speak freely.
“Are you mad at me?”
Your voice is soft like he was capable of snapping. Maybe he is, you determine, not like you’ve ever seen it firsthand. Now it’s his turn to mimic confusion as he looks back at you.
“I thought you were mad at me. You barely speak to me and when you do you won’t look me in the eyes. I assumed you didn't want to be with me right now so I was going to sleep in another room. To give you space.”
Your face heats up as he puts the pieces together for you. Oh. You were the one being distant. You let the bloodworms in your stomach get the better of you.
“It’s my stomach. Every time I get near you it starts to twist. Like when I ate that bad box of mac & cheese but without... everything else. It hurts to be close to you. I can’t look at you because your lips make my ears burn and when you laugh it makes me feel sick.”
“Sounds like you have a crush.”
“Crush? Like I should crush something to make it go away? Will that work?”
“No. A crush like you like someone. You want to be with them.”
“If I wanted to be with you why does it hurt so badly?”
“I don’t know. It’s something weird our bodies do. I feel the same way when I’m near you.”
Your ears perk up at his confession. This is perfect. If he feels the same way then it must be normal. You wonder if Lucy and Max feel the same way about each other. Allowing your pack to fall to the floor you smile as you take out a worn blanket. When Norm escaped the vault his pack carried an extra sleeping bag and you were grateful that tonight was your night with it. Sheepishly you shove your bag next to his. Standing up straight you dive back into your pack hoping he has no objections. Removing the rope of metal cans from inside you exit the room to tie up the front door. Using the holes in the sloped roof you tie up the cans. Taking a step back you admire your work before nodding.
Turning you go to return to your room hoping to get some sleep. Instead, you're stopped by the rumble in your stomach as Lucy comes out with an unopened pack of crams. Smiling she holds up the food and gathers everyone to the main room. Happily sitting down the sounds of human hunger fill the room as she hands out the containers. There are six in the pack and everyone agrees to shill some out in a small pile on the floor for Dogmeat. Norms finds a spot next to you and he ends up sitting so close that your plush thigh is squished against his toned one. Cracking open your cram you spoon some out for the pup before digging in yourself. You're all finished within minutes not a word spoken as you ate. Only the soft sounds of chewing fill the room. When you’re finished you set the can off to the side alongside the rest. Dancing your fingers over Norm’s knee you rise and start for your room. Your stomach feels better now that you have peace of mind. The pain is still there but much more manageable. Entering your shared room you hear the door click behind you and you turn to see Norm looking you over.
“How are you feeling? Better?”
You give him a warm smile, “Yeah. My stomach hurts a lot less. Maybe I was just hungry.”
You let out a laugh but don’t miss the flash of discomfort that covers his face. Even if only a second it causes your stomach to bubble as you go to apologize. He waves you off with a tiny curl of the corners of his mouth. Walking past you he starts to go through his pack. You notice he placed your single blanket over your sleeping bags. Smiling you think about how nice it’s going to be sleeping next to someone with an actual roof over your head for once. Pointing to the side-by-side bags you speak louder than necessary.
“One of those is mine, right?”
He looks at you quizzically and gives you a short laugh. “Yeah? You put it there. The blanket is just for extra warmth.”
You smile and drag your bag to rest beside the bag. Normally a lumpy makeshift pillow but you know it’s better than sand in your ears. Tonight on the other hand you have a relatively clean wooden floor to rest your head on. Possibly even a warm body. You feel heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Instead of dwelling on the feeling you pull your armor and weapons off and place them in a neat pile next to your pack. Next is your outer clothes, A few tops and a pair of jeans get folded neatly behind your bag.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting undressed. If I’m sleeping inside four walls I’m going to do it comfortably. Why? Does this bother you? Should I put my shirt back on?”
A shake of his head and he starts to follow your lead. His vault suit and tank top is removed leaving him in a pair of briefs. Fuck. He doesn't have your raw muscle mass, but his body is lean and healthy and it causes your entire face to burn feverishly. You can’t stop staring. He notices and moves his hands showing himself off. This movement causes you to snap out of your stupor. Quickly yanking your head up you make eye contact with Norm.
“You like what you see?”
“I was staring.”
“I know. You can. If I can do the same.”
You allow your eyes to drift down and nod slowly. You don’t mind him staring at you and it allows you to take in his figure some more. Your mind starts to wander and you're left hugging yourself around the middle as you think about all the things you want to do.
“Can we kiss? I want to feel you.”
Your voice comes out stronger than you anticipated. Luckily it works in your favor and he opens his arms wider giving you an invitation to come closer. You do, taking a few normal steps towards him even if your body feels like a leaf in a radstorm. When you're right in front of him you waste no time in cupping his cheeks and pulling him close. Pressing soft lips together you move in sync. You’re a little more awkward than his confident movements but they work in tandem. One hand leaves his cheek to squeeze at his bicep. His hands decide the best place to be is on your wide hips. He squeezes at the slightly exposed flesh there, using his position to raise your tank top higher so he can get more of your flesh between his fingers. You sigh into his mouth as you press your chest closer to his. Darting your tongue out you rub the tip against his bottom lip. He obliges and opens his mouth enough for you to explore it with your tongue. You do for a few moments, feeling the ridges of his teeth with the flat part of your tongue. You feel how his nose flares against your cheek as he angles his head downwards. After a few moments of panting and touching you force yourself to pull away.
“Wow.”
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#fallout#fallout prime#fallout tv series#fallout 2024#norm maclean#norm maclean x reader#sombrashe writes
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Roxanne falls in love with Megamind on day ninety seven.
That might not seem like a lot. Most people would tell you "Love at first sight" and "I just knew"'s aside. Three months is not enough time to really know someone. What if they snore? What if you have diametrically opposed views on stacking the dishwasher? What if it turns out you really are as picky as your ex said about what kind of coffee mug is acceptable in the morning?
But ninety seven days happens slowly. Bit by bit, a week at a time, only a day of which is spent in his company. Somewhere between two years and three when he's got her tied to a chair again, rolled up close in his own, elbows on his knees, hands dancing between motes of dust in the air as he explains reverse electromagnetisation and conjoined power components and his eyes are so big and bright and his mouth is stretched wide as he makes another pun about something that only makes sense to someone with an advanced mathematics degree (which neither of them have) and that should make her roll her eyes and shoot back an even worse one about something like meganetic attraction.
But he's there and he's fun and he's silly and he talks to her and while she's still realising what this rising light blooming in her chest means she leans over and closes the distance between them.
She kisses him lightly, teasingly, just a soft brush of lips on the surprised slack sag of his mouth and Roxanne feels an odd urge to giggle that she's managed to catch him off guard for once.
She kisses him because she likes him, because he never makes her feel dumb when he explains how his inventions work, because she wants to know if his mouth is still as expressive when on hers, because his beard looks soft and she's always wondered, because she's wearing her favourite shoes, and because its a Tuesday and she always has better luck on Tuesdays
She kisses him for a hundred different reasons.
But mostly because she wants to.
Megamind, for his part, when she sits back again, (kindapping chairs are not comfortable to lean sideways on), still sitting there dazed, a clicking sound coming from his throat like his voicebox has stalled and has to work its way through restarting, almost explodes out of his chair.
"I- you- Miss Ritchi, what?"
Megamind falls in love with Roxanne on day five, and day thirteen, and day twenty nine and forty seven etc etc. He falls in love with her every time she asks a question and every time she laughs and every time she makes his brain work that little bit faster to keep their conversations going.
He dreams of kissing her. Wistful daydreams while he waits for her to wake, blurry fantasises as he puts finishing touches on giant robots and flaming death traps. He dreams of kissing her slow, fast, in between. He dreams of stolen kisses, shy kisses, kisses to her hair, her cheeks, her temples, her hands.
And then firmly tells himself he's being ridiculous and decides to chase any thought of love out of his brain again right up until he sees her again.
He never let himself dream of kissing her lips.
Roxanne drags her lower lip through her teeth, savouring the taste of salt and tilts her head at him, "Hi," She says, braver than she feels, "I think I like you."
That seems to throw him even more than the kiss, "You do?"
"Yeah," She wishes he'd sit down again, looking at him from this angle is really doing a number on her neck, "I really do."
"That," Megamind hesitates, "Could be a very bad idea."
"Why?"
"Because I definitely really like you."
"Oh."
#Megamind#Megarox#Roxanne Ritchi#ficlet#kisses#this mostly seems to be about prime numbers#again#help I don't know where it goes next#Megamind fanfic
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also this is just one of my childcare onions but i think its actually very irresponsible that learning how to redirect isn’t considered required for people who work with kids like. it’s difficult to do! it’s something you have to practice & learn and it’s something that can prevent injury and trauma so often in kids
#like ive only ever one time had to restrain a student (he started biting and drawing blood it was a safety issue :( )#and its SO terrible for them#there is a reason its a last resort#you’re supposed to restrain any student self harming but tbqh if it’s not causing serious injury restraint is only going to harm them more#and escalate the situation#its TERRIFYING being a little person and having someone who you trust physically prevent you from doing what you feel you need to do to make#yourself safe#because especially in younger kids that’s why they’re acting out! they’re scared or overwhelmed in some way and that’s their outlet#and if you can redirect instead of punish or restrain it helps so so much. and prevents so much distress#likeee if a kid is peeling her skin or threatening another student it is so much better to call them over to have a talk & help you put#snack together or something than it is to frighten them more by escalating things#obvs it doesnt work with like kids like the one who kept biting me earlier this year was impossible to redirect past a certain point#but if you catch it early & know how to do it even students with as extreme behavioral issues as he had can be helped#he lovedd when you’d ask him to help with the classroom and if you did it when you first noticed him getting uncomfortable it could prevent#an incident almost every time#idk it just makes me so pissed off that so many teachers & other people who work with kids think restraint is the first thing to resort to#when things get physical#i had a coworker joke to me that i should start beating the kid who kept biting me#HE WAS FIVE!! he was scared you fucking asshole hes tiny and he isn’t used to life yet and he hasn’t developed empathy!! why do you want to#hurt a baby!!
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it's actually fascinating that i'm not depressed rn because my life isn't that much better than it was when i actually was depressed (2019). i mean i guess it is a little better because my grandma didn't just die and i'm not in love with someone who doesn't like me back and i also kind of know where i'm going with school and presumably life and i don't call the place i live in my cell because of how small it is but the foundations are still very shaky
#this reads like a joke because it is but it's also true#i remember in october of 2018 like a month after my grandma had died i was at my grandparents' house for the first time since she had died#or for the first time since her funeral ig because i spent a few days there while she was in the hospital and after her funeral etc. and i#was thinking about my life and about how very boring it was. and i had basically always thought that but from that moment on it was like an#actual situation and then i started being sad all the time in like january (not even right after my grandma died because of course i loved#her very much but it wasn't even about that) and then in march or maybe april i started feeling empty more than sad and that was just crazy#and then in july i started wanting to kill myself and i finally understood what people on the internet were talking about and anyway. bad#year. but it's like. okay i had all that going on but i remember being like how did i deal with my life being this lame before#because it was never good. i was stupid to enjoy it and to not feel like killing myself every second of every day. and when i stopped being#depressed (incidentally when i stopped being invested in my friendship with the girl i was in love with like literally my grandpa died in#december of 2019 and it was terrible and i was very sad but it still didn't stop me from getting better😭 so crazy our relationship was just#THAT bad for me) i remember being SO grateful that my life was back to being boring i was like i would rather be at a 5-6 all the time than#go from 11 to -5 in five minutes and so i really liked feeling bored but not empty and it's crazy because i still feel like that when it's#been almost four years like i was expecting that feeling to fade a little. but i'm also like well maybe i should do things to make my life#better because the only reason i'm not depressed rn is just because i don't have one more bad thing going on like i'm just lucky😭#lmao. but also. i don't really want to i just wish i had one more friend#and like i say: brf slt#tw suicide#<- for me#my friend i was in love with was a very nice girl she never really did anything to me if we had been friends at any other time in my life w#would probably still be friends. or i guess not because i WAS in love with her but like i had issues with our friendship that i never would#have had if it had been any other year in my life i was crying up to 10 times a day at one point in late august because she hadn't#talked to me in like 25 hours like i was not normal😭😭😭#i was very close to my grandparents i saw them like at least one week every month even though they lived 400kms away and spent all my#holidays with them it was my mother and them that raised me and my sister them dying altered the fabric of my life. for context
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this is miguel o’hara being a dick
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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miguel knows he’s fucked.
he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.
but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.
you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.
yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.
the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.
“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,
hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”
his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”
“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”
“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”
“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”
no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.
un-fucking-believable
“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“
Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.
“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.
“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.
oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.
the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.
“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.
Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.
“cariño i—“
“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,
but he just did and now he’s paying the price,
his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.
“baby, please—“
you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”
with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.
he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.
it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.
he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.
but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly�� your pussy
God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.
and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.
Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.
he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.
“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“
soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.
Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.
beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.
Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”
you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”
you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.
tulips. your favorite
he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”
that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”
“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”
a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.
you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.
“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“
“stop talking”
he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.
seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.
“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”
he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“
“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”
Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.
“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”
“a cute one though” you pout at him,
he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. ��you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”
“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”
he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”
you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”
he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”
he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”
his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.
you do miss him touching you,
“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”
Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.
“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”
you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,
“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,
“i wanna hear you scream my name.”
-
part 2?
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istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.
i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.
from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3
hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.
Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.
You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?”
“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”
“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”
“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”
“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.
He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”
Your jaw tightens. “Why?”
“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”
He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”
“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.
Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.
He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.
Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”
—————
By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.
You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson.
You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.
“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.
“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”
“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.
“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”
You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”
You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?”
He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”
You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.
“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”
“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.
“You’re so annoying.”
Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”
“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.
“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”
You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.
You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.
“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”
“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.
You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”
“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: bug turns one
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Flatline
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).
Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.
Word count: 2.7k
It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick.
“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep.
Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen.
“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted.
Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him.
“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard.
There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out.
“Like what?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.
“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.”
“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.
“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.
“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out.
However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.
“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.
“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.
“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.
“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.
“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.
Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.
“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”
“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again.
“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.
“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.
“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way.
“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.
“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.
Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.
You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—
Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.
“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.
Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.
“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?
Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.
“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp.
“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze.
It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.
Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions.
“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again.
One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.
Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss.
One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.
Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.
Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face.
“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.
“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.
“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours.
With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.
Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.
-------------------------
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity)
warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present
a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly.
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?”
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek.
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.”
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition.
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?”
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.”
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.
“How long have you been asleep?”
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented.
“10:20.”
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep. "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.”
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?”
He laughs, running a hand through your hair.
“I don’t even know where you got that number.”
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow.
“Honey, that’s Algebra.”
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear.
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?”
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?”
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt.
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.”
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?”
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum.
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-”
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?”
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you.
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.”
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better.
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him.
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise.
“Of course. What do you want to hear?”
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.”
���What? No Jane Austen?”
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.”
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection.
“You are utterly ridiculous.”
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm.
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater.
“Just get the book, Spencer.”
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub.
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down.
“Ready to get out?”
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air.
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly.
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.”
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up.
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.”
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic
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DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k
NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.
Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?
She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).
In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.
She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.
The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.
"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.
"It's alright, Lewis-"
"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."
"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"
"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.
"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."
Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.
"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.
"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.
"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"
The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."
She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."
Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."
The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.
The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.
“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.
"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"
The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.
"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."
Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.
"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"
"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."
The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.
The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.
"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.
The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"
"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.
Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.
"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.
"I already have one."
"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.
"Yes. WWJD."
"What does that stand for?"
"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."
The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.
Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.
"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.
She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."
Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.
Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."
The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.
"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.
"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."
A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."
A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."
With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.
She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.
"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.
"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.
The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.
The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.
As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.
"Copy." She smirked.
The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.
As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.
She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.
The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.
"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."
"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.
"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."
The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.
Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.
This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.
Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.
Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.
"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.
"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"
The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."
As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.
Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.
"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.
But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.
Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.
"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.
"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."
He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.
Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.
"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.
"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."
A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.
"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.
"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."
"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.
She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."
"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.
Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"
"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."
He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”
Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”
The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.
She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.
"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.
The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.
"Stay safe, Nando"
"You too. Give us hell"
"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.
"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."
"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.
As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.
"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.
The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.
The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.
Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.
She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.
"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."
She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.
"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.
Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?
After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.
In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.
Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."
The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.
"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"
The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.
She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”
She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.
A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.
He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.
"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."
A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.
"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."
"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.
"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.
The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.
She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.
Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.
To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.
Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.
She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"
He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.
Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.
Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.
Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."
She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.
As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.
But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)
Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.
He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"
A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.
"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."
She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."
taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff
#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 scenarios#f1 x reader#fem!driver reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 scenarios#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagines#f1 fanfic#x reader#formula one x reader#driver reader#f1 x fem!driver#fem!driver#mick schumacher x reader#fernando alonso x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ the echo ﹗
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DO IT AGAIN
PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader
WORDS 3.7k
SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.
WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie
NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol
“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”
You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”
He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.
“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.
“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.
You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.
“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.
You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.
“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.
“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”
“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.
“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.
“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.
"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.
“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.
You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”
“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.
“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”
Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”
“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.
“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.
“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”
He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”
“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.
“You know what, fuck it.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.
He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”
“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.
“I”m go-”
Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.
You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.
“Jisung, what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.
“Jisung.”
“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.
Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.
“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.
“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.
“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.
“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.
You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”
He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”
You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”
“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”
Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”
“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.
“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.
Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”
It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”
The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.
You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.
He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.
"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."
Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.
He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.
When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.
He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.
Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.
“Only if you like to dominate.”
The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.
“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.
“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”
“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.
“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.
Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.
He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.
“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”
Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.
The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.
“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.
“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.
You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.
The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.
“P-please,” you beg.
At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.
“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.
As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."
“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.
You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”
It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.
His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.
“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.
“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.
“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.
“Do you have a condom in your room?”
“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.
And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.
“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”
You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.
“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.
The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”
Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”
“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.
“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.
It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.
“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.
“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.
“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.
You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”
Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”
You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.
You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”
“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
#nct#nct dream#park jisung#jisung#park jisung smut#jisung x reader#nct jisung#jisung smut#park jisung x reader#park jisung x y/n#park jisung x you#park jisung fic#park jisung nct#nct x you#nct smut#nct drabbles#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct hard thoughts#nct hard hours#nct dream smut#nct dream drabbles#nct x y/n#nct dream x reader#nct dream hard hours#nct dream hard thoughts#nct dream jisung#nct dream x y/n#nct dream fic#kpop
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It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy
He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation
He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him
Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week
Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone
He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little
Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens
And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning
Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him
And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll
But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side
“What’s that?”
“Your walker.”
“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”
“You are today.”
And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy
But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself
“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”
“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”
“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”
“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”
It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him
But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker
He pulled himself up
His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear
Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two
Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving
He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve
“Happy?”
“Are you?”
And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks
Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away
“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”
Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so
It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once
Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days
Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday
When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed
And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date
“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.
Steve should say no, but he doesn’t
Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#physical therapist Steve#idk going through my notes on things I’ll never have time to actually write#but maybe someone else does#I’m literally ignoring work so hard right now#I’m just tired!!!!#im just a girl who doesn’t wanna work anymore!!!!#cw: injury#cw: mention of accident
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ghost wants to help teach you how to snipe! (but it turns into… something else)
i know i haven't posted in forever but i'm doing so much better so we'll see what happens <3
ALSO 1K??????? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH AHHH
word count: 2.2k
tws: choking, unprotected sex, reader with vagina, pussy eating, cum eating, fingering, rough sex, cumming inside
you hate how cold it is on the rooftops, slow gusts of winds chilling your bones completely. you would normally complain, but with ghost being right next to you, you truly can’t. his large body blocks the majority of what should be hitting you, and you can’t help but feel giddy getting to spend time with him alone.
he gives off heat, thick layers of clothing doing nothing to stop the way his gloved fingers and muscular arms touch into you as you try adjusting the rifle appropriately. his eyes are looking you over to make sure your positioning is right; it’s not.
“you need to move some.” his voice is barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine as you turn your head slightly and only then realize just how close you are to him.
you gulp and nod your head, heat bubbling up in your tummy as you try to adjust yourself and the rifle once more. you can feel his eyes on your every part, silently judging how you just seemingly can’t do this right.
the darkness of the night is all that surrounds you, rifle aiming at some lit up targets prepared on base for you to use. you opt to fire with the newly adjusted position, but it’s no use.
the bullet whizzes into the very edge of the target, just scraping it. ghost sighs frustratedly, deciding to move closer to you so he can help (force) you into the right aiming position. you don’t expect his arms to wrap around you the way they do, causing you to jump a little as you’re moved around with ease.
once he stops, he’s speaking up. “try now.”
you nod, aiming down the sight and pulling the trigger. excitement courses through your veins when you notice the bullet hit the center of the target, a smile forming on your face.
“nice! did you see that?” you say, turning your head to him and immediately becoming hyper-aware of his face only inches away from your own. he nods, eyes staring down at you in a way that makes you feel a lot less cold than before.
it’s the sultry look that he always has that makes you break eye contact quickly, clearing your throat as you turn away from him and decide to take another shot.
following his prior movements of your body, you try once more to shoot and that’s when your confidence skyrockets. once again, a direct hit.
“yes!” you say happily, grinning and glancing over to the man. he nods at your work, opting to put a hand up for a high-five as opposed to using his words for the moment.
your eyebrows raise at such a random gesture, slapping his gloved hand gently and then move the gun over to the side of you. “did you want to practice at all?” you ask, swallowing harshly once you’re looking into his eyes again.
his eye contact remains so sharp in a way that sends spikes of heat in between your thighs, head shaking as he looks between your faltering smile and your bright eyes.
“i think we both know i don’t need it.”
you nod knowingly, almost feeling embarrassed. obviously he wouldn’t want to practice, he’s the best sniper on the base. you feel stupid for even asking, eyes wandering to the edge of the rooftop and looking around at the night sky.
the lights directly above the two of you make the view less visible, but it’s still beautiful nonetheless. you can’t help but wish you were able to stay out with ghost, that maybe this would be a date instead of him doing his job.
you decide to move around some to prepare to get up. “well, i suppose i should get going. i don’t want to take up anymore of your time.” you mumble.
as you move to get up, his hand stops you with a strength that has you wondering just what other parts of you he could move around so easily. you gasp out, looking to your side at him.
“stay.”
his eyes look pleading, emotions held in them that have you nearly melting into his touch. you immediately falter, getting back into the same prone position you were in before.
you don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. it’s like that for a while, silence between the two of you and the weight of unspoken words creating tension. you choose to take a glance at him, almost forgetting to breathe when you see the way he’s staring at you.
“it’s nice out tonight.” you’re embarrassed saying this, knowing it’s completely random to even mention how the weather is given the current circumstances.
he nods along though, which comforts you in some way. “better than normal.”
you sigh, shutting your eyes tightly. “why did you want me to stay out here?” you don’t want to pry, but it’s needed now. with the tension in the air and the crickets chirping away, your mind is left wandering.
one of his hands gently touch you, eyes pulling open from the pressure of his hand guiding you toward him. your body leans against him, his other hand snaking around your waist. you wait patiently for his words, but nothing is said.
instead, he’s adjusting your bodies so that you’re on top of his body, thighs on either side of his hips as you look down at him. the movement happened so quickly that you can’t think properly for a moment, just staring at him blankly.
your insides feel like they’re on fire from pure lust, face growing hotter from the feeling of a bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. you want to kiss him so badly right now, eyes desperately looking between his eyes and where his lips would be underneath his mask.
“please…” you whisper breathlessly, eyes fixated on that one spot. you unconsciously grind your hips against him, feeling his hands shoot to your hips where they dig in and he pushes up into you.
“fuck it.” he mumbles, hand flying up and pushing the mask up just enough so his lips are showing. you immediately lean down and press into his lips roughly, kissing him with every bit of passion you can muster.
your lips move against each other heatedly, one of his hands grabbing onto your neck to push you in more. you let out a whine when he starts grinding up into you more, the pressure absolutely soaking your panties and probably your pants, too.
the stimulation is just enough to have you gasping his name into his lips desperately, teeth clashing and wet sounds echoing in empty outside air. the hand on your hip is rubbing circles into it, making your body twitch as you push your hips down harder and harder.
he abruptly ends the kiss between the two of you, hands hurriedly pulling your jacket off before he hesitates to take off any more of your clothing. “will you get too cold?” he asks.
you nod, “it’d be best to leave my shirt on.” you mumble, trying your hardest to catch your breath. but he kisses you again, this time fumbling with your belt and then the button of your pants.
you stand up and quickly pull them off with your underwear in a rush, settling back down on him with your bare pussy resting against him. he reaches down and lightly presses his thumb against your clit, making you whimper out.
you kiss him again while he plays with your clit, eventually sliding down your slit and playing with your hole. his finger stretches you out and your teeth accidentally bite down on his lip as you gasp.
a second one pushes in as your lips leave his again, eyes looking down to where his fingers are thrusting into you and biting your bottom lip. your hips grind down and push him in deeper, eyes rolling back as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.
he slides his fingers back out though, looking you in the eyes as he slips them into his mouth and sucks gently. the sight has you moaning pathetically, a hand reaching down to palm his dick in his pants.
he grunts and pushes your hand away, quickly undoing his pants and pulling them down enough to free his cock. “are you sure you want this?” he asks.
you nod, hand reaching out and jerking his cock several times before lining it up and pushing just the tip in. you slowly sink down onto it, eyes clamping shut from the size and just how good he feels inside of you.
“fuck…” he groans softly when you clench around him, and you almost cum just from how sexy he looks. eyes glazed over, lips still revealed and puffy, and fists clenched roughly at his sides.
you start to move against him, grinding up and down on his cock as you reach out and grab onto his hands. he uses this to his advantage, pulling your body forward just a little as his hips start thrusting up into you quickly.
your mouth falls open, a mix between a gasp and a whine coming out of your mouth. “more…” you cry out, eyes widening when he pulls out of you. his body is moving yours around, your ass in the air as he adjusts himself to be behind you.
he slowly pushes himself into you from behind, fingernails digging into your ass as he bottoms out. the angle is much better than before, his hips slapping into your ass as he begins thrusting feverishly.
“so tight and pretty. and all mine.” he growls out, hand reaching around and gripping onto your throat as he fucks into you harder.
you can barely keep your eyes open, but you do when he leans your head back to look at your face while he thrusts. you can feel the pressure building up in you, a steady orgasm bubbling up from the pressure of his dick hitting every little spot that you know gets you going.
he squeezes your throat and you wheeze out, eyes rolling back and clit throbbing hard from the sensation. you can’t help but cry out loudly, even more so when his other hand moves from your ass to your clit to rub circles into it.
your whole body shakes as his movements quicken, his fingers pushing down on your little button as your orgasm hits you hard. you feel your thighs shake and you’re sputtering out incoherent words, a mix between his name and different curse words.
“that’s a good girl. so good for me.” he whispers in your ear, tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation and a content noise coming out from his praise.
he doesn’t stop after you come down from your high, hips never faltering but fingers leaving your clit after you try to squirm away from them. his hand remains tight around your throat, occasionally squeezing.
it’s not long after when you notice his hips sputtering and becoming more and more sloppy in movements, and eventually you can feel his cum fill you deeply. it’s leaking down your thighs, mixed with your own release and sweat as he finally pulls out.
you sigh out, exhausted but entirely satisfied. “that was amazing.”
he pushes your back into the ground, “i’m not finished with you yet.” his words are stern, and you let out a squeak when you feel his breath against your thighs.
he licks up your pussy, lips finding your clit and beginning to suck hard. you cry out, a hand slapping over your mouth to calm yourself as his tongue begins completely violating you.
his tongue runs along your clit in circles before moving back to your stretched entrance, sliding in and out of your hole before moving to your clit once more.
your orgasm approaches quicker since you’ve already cum once, a loud moan escaping your lips as you release against his tongue. he coaxes you through your orgasm, humming softly once he pulls back.
“you taste as good as you look.” he says shamelessly, and you don’t respond. your whole body is shaking beyond belief and you don’t think you can move anymore without falling over.
“i can’t move.” you say quietly, and he’s looking at you smugly as he pulls his mask back over the bottom half of his face.
he decides to help you put your clothes back on, hands gently taking care of everything and wiping your wet thighs down with a towel. “i can carry you.” he says, shrugging.
you shake your head quickly, “no! we’re not going to do that. it’d be so obvious we just fucked out here.” you disagree, arms crossing as you sit down criss cross on the floor.
he leans down to your ear, “you think they don’t already know, love? you were screaming my name. everyone here knows.” his voice is low and makes you shiver, your face going hot as you realize just how right he is.
needless to say, ghost carries to your room with knowing eyes glaring at the two of you the whole way there. but you really can’t care, knowing that this won’t be the last time it happens anyways.
-
taglist: @wwwurmomdotcom @kovieky @chibijusstuff
(send an ask/dm to be added or removed from my taglist!)
#ghost#ghost x reader smut#ghost smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod#call of duty#call of duty smut#x reader#female reader#smut
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I is for "I Knew It!"
summary: you and spencer are caught going out by an all-too-familiar face, causing the two of you to have a talk about the logistics of your relationship.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: the fluffiest fluff anyone has ever seen
“Hey hey, put that wallet away,” Spencer says as you pull your wallet out from your purse. He never let you pay for dinner, even though you begged every time. You will admit, it is nice to always have your dinner paid for, however, you felt bad having him spend so much money on you.
“No. I want to pay tonight. You always pay,” you said and opened your wallet.
“My payment is having the world’s prettiest girlfriend. I’m paying for dinner, that's final.” He gently grabs your wrist from across the table, stopping you from making any further moves with the wallet. “Got it?”
“Fine, but I’m buying you a coffee in the morning.” You put the wallet back in your purse and give Spencer a smile. You playfully click your shoes with his underneath the table and take a final sip of your drink. Spencer places a credit card on the small black booklet on the edge of the table.
The waitress comes and collects the booklet, giving the two of you a quick smile and says she’ll be right back.
Spencer hands her a five dollar and two one dollar bills as a tip, and she makes her way to the register.
Spence lets go of your wrist and points his finger at you. “You,” he says, waves his finger at you as he says the words, “should come hang out at my apartment tonight.”
The waitress comes back and hands Spencer his card. “You guys have a good night,” she says as she backs up to let the two of you out of the booth then proceeding to clear off the table.
Spencer laces his hand with yours as the two of you weave through tables to exit the restaurant. “We can watch a movie or something,” he leans into your ear as you walk.
“I would love to, Spence,” you say and open the door to exit.
“Spencer Reid?” a familiar woman's voice says as the two of you walk out hand-in-hand. You feel his grip tighten.
The woman was blonde and pregnant. She was with a thin goateed man.
“Oh, hey JJ,” Spencer says, stopping his step. “How’s it going?”
“Great, I can’t believe you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me!” JJ looks at you, her mouth immediately becoming agape. “Y/N?”
Yeah, no one knew you and Spencer were seeing each other.
“Hey, JJ…” You say, happy to see her, but in a little bit of an awkward situation.
“How long? How long has this been going on?” She says, looking over at her boyfriend, Will excitedly.
“Um about a month,” you begin to say before being interrupted by Mr. Exact.
“35 days,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.
“That’s crazy! Oh my god I can’t believe this. Does anyone else know?” JJ would probably be jumping for joy right now if she wasn’t 9 months pregnant. Will just looked at her lovingly.
“No, we haven’t told anyone yet, we wanted to wait until our relationship was solid.” Spencer said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist.
“Seems pretty solid to me,” you say under your breath and lean into Spencer.
“You have to tell the team! They’d be so excited,” JJ exclaims.
“Yeah, we’re going to, we’re just not sure when.” Spencer says.
“It better be before I come back from maternity leave. If you guys aren’t BAU official by the Christmas party you will be sorry.” JJ playfully threatens before being dragged to the door by Will who waves goodbye.
You and Spencer begin walking to his car. “You know, That felt good. To finally tell someone,” you said and lean further into Spencer as your steps match up.
“Yeah, it did,” Spencer says, “What movie do you want to watch?”
“The Red Circle is always good.”
“Yeah, but I think I want to watch more of an immature movie. I need a break.”
“How about WALL-E?”
“WALL-E sounds awesome.”
Spencer let go of your waist when you reached his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you in by your hand, then hurried around to get in the car himself.
_____
“I think we should tell the team,” Spencer says. You were sat between his legs on his couch leaned against his shoulder. One of his arms was wrapped around you, the other hand was playing with your hair. He halted his movements once the words came out of his mouth. It was almost as if he didn’t mean to say it outloud.
“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. The lighting from the t.v. hit his face, bringing attention to the rosy blush bleeding through his cheeks.
“I um… I want to tell the team we’re together,” he repeats. Your mouth falls open, unsure of what to say. “I know it’s early, but I just, I don’t want to have to hide you from them. You’re so special to me.”
“Spencer…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I know it could put a lot of pressure on a new relationship, but I…”
You need to shut him up. You lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, letting your breath linger on his mouth. “No, if you’re ready to tell everyone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” His eyes light up. He looks so happy.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” He leans his head into your shoulder and gently pecks a kiss on your collarbone. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He looks up at you and smiles, resting his chin against your chest.
You loved when he let you baby him like this. It took him a while to be comfortable enough to let his guard down like this around you, but once he was able to, he basically never stopped. He loved being able to have someone to care for him as it was something he never experienced, even as a child.
WALL-E is playing in the background, the scene where he is showing EVE around his house illuminating the room. Spencer looks up at you, eyes glowing. He nuzzles into your chest, careful not to bump your breasts. He was so respectful; the sweetest boy.
“What, Spencer?” you ask, keeping your voice smooth and calm. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but you had to make sure not to seem annoyed as he was sensitive.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, then buries his head in the crook of your neck.
That’s not what he wants to say, but you comb your fingers through his hair and say, “thank you.” You feel him mumble something into your chest. “What, baby?” you ask him.
“Y/n,” he says, you hum in response, “I think I’m in love with you.”
You can’t help but smile. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Spence,” you say, grabbing his chin and leading his face up to kiss him.
______
next chapter: J is for "Just So You Know"
a/n: hiii :3 i'm currently on break from school and have the next two days off from work, i'm going to try to grind so hard and try my best to get the christmas part out on the 25th, but if that doesn't happen please don't get upset at me... it will 100% be out in december, as the new years part is for sure being posted on the 31st. have an awesome night guys !!
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keeping secrets
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you and satoru avoid each other
warnings: actual fighting, sad everyone, hurt/little comfort (sorry)
last part | next part
*
year four.
"did megumi give you a permission slip?" you ask satoru, leaning against the side of the couch, peeking at his phone. "it's for a field trip, but i haven't seen it. he says he set it on the counter."
satoru glances at you. then back, and shakes his head.
"he didn't give you anything to sign?"
"not recently."
you sigh. "i don't think he lost it."
satoru's lip quirks. "you think i'm hiding it?"
"i don't know. did you accidentally eat it?"
his eyes roll. "i have better taste than that."
"well, can you help me look for it?"
satoru sighs, head hanging back for a moment, then he throws his phone down, groaning as he stands up. after he stretches, he half-heartedly moves a pillow, pretending to look under it.
you snort.
but satoru doesn't look back at you, and moves to the table, to look at the stack of papers there.
and, admittedly, things have been a bit off.
you tried to ignore it at first--ignore the way satoru avoided your eyes, or kept himself five feet away from you at all times. you tried to pretend that it wasn't happening. that he wasn't giving you short responses, or only joking with you in dire moments (like when something you say goes over both of the kid's heads and they stare at you weirdly).
honestly, you hadn't even noticed anything was wrong until you'd realized that it'd been a week since he fell asleep with you. since he even bothered to come out of his room after putting the kids to bed. a week since he tried to squeeze you to death, or grossly kissed your cheek.
and... it shouldn't be weird.
no rule says that he has to spend a specific amount of time with you, or cuddle in your bed, or smile at you, or... do anything that your best friend probably shouldnt do.
but it's weird.
it's strange because your relationship with satoru has stayed relatively consistent, an upward slope for the past six years. you've grown closer, but never farther.
and, in the depths of your mind, usually when you're lying awake at night, you recognize that there's one single moment when it switched. that everything changed a specific morning, and you haven't been able to rewind it. to take it all back.
and you could just blame the alcohol for your confession, you probably should.
but then you'd also have to blame your sixteen-year-old self, the girl who'd been attracted to satoru in the first place. the eighteen-year-old who agreed to tie her life to his and take in the kids, or you now, still cursing yourself for falling in love with him.
it's not like satoru made you.
if intoxication is to blame, so is your heart, your soul, for starting all of this in the first place.
you'd decided to not blame anything at all, in the end. everything's fine.
"find anything?" you ask him, a bit cold in the room, feeling that same tension that's been there. those unspoken words, infinite amounts of distance.
you try to ignore it, really.
"just the receipt for tsumiki's violin."
"tsumiki's what?" you ask, blinking at him.
"i didn't tell you about that?"
"satoru, you can't just buy them things on a whim--"
he holds a hand up, stopping you. "she said it was for school," he says, giving you a quick grin. "plus, she's pretty good."
"there's no way she's good."
"you'll see," he says, "when we go to her recital."
"what?"
satoru shrugs, then he turns around, organizing the piles of papers into neat stacks. it almost makes you want to check him for a spider bite, a fever, remnants of poison. no way your satoru is doing that.
not that he's yours. he hasn't been yours in years, hasn't been your anything ever.
"oh, here," he says, eventually, handing you a paper which he already signed--of course--and shaking his head. "museums," he grumbles.
but he doesn't give you the chance to respond, turning to walk down the hall--towards his room--before you can even chide him for forgetting about it.
so, yeah. things are fine.
*
"where's gojo?" megumi asks, as the two of you walk through the door.
the house is empty without satoru there. colder, dimmer. and, of course, there's no one to irritate the boy right when he walks in.
you try not to wince at the question, or spiral into your own question of 'where's gojo?'
"uh," you lock the door, then unlock it. then lock it again. "he's on another job."
"again?"
you give megumi a bland smile, taking his backpack from him. "guess they think he needs more practice," you say, trying to tease.
it falls flat.
"did he get in trouble?"
"i don't know," you shrug. "probably."
honestly, it's not like you would know anyway. satoru doesn't tell you anything these days.
it's probably what bothers you the most, because if he's not saying anything, then neither can you. you can't ask him what he thinks about tsumiki's new friend, or if megumi should be eating more, or if you're just making everything up, probably going insane--
"when's he going to be back?"
"he said probably tomorrow. maybe the day after if it takes longer. i can't remember where they sent him..."
megumi looks mischievous. his eyes are bright. "so we can make those miso brownies? since he's gone?"
you laugh, ruffling his hair. "sure, when tsumiki gets home."
he nods, satisfied, and turns around. then he looks back at you, eyes trailing over your expression.
megumi looks at you quizzically, like he knows something you don't. "do you miss him?"
you roll your eyes. "do you miss him, megumi?"
he doesn't even think about it. "true," he says, then walks into the kitchen, grabbing something from the fridge.
maybe you miss him, you think, but only a little bit. it's not like he's been gone long.
just, you know, forever.
*
"hey," you lean against the desk in the office. satoru must be filling out a report, which should make you blink twice, but really it's him being out in the open that surprises you.
most days he goes to hide in his room. he locks his door and makes sure that you wouldn't dare to walk through. that you have no means to interrupt his solitude.
"oh, hey," satoru answers, not bothering to look up at you. his voice is low, familiar, and creates goosebumps on your skin.
seriously, why is it so cold in this house?
"i'm surprised those haven't gone missing yet," you gesture toward the papers, trying to be casual.
he snorts. "yaga said that if i lost them again, i was fired."
"he said that two years ago."
satoru nods, still scribbling. you want more than anything to just see his eyes for a moment, for him to look at you and grin like you're used to.
but you know he won't, so you tap your fingers against the desk. "do you have a second?"
"sure. what's up? megumi do something?"
"no, the kids are fine, i, um--" you pause. it feels ridiculous to have to ask him this, to not know the answer. it feels ridiculous to be nervous around satoru. you haven't felt anxious, or worried about asking him anything since you were sixteen and realized that it didn't matter. "shoko texted me about that work 'meeting' that's happening on friday. do you want to go to that? i just need to know so i can tell her..."
"meeting?"
your smile is teasing, not that he's looking. "i think she meant party."
"on friday?"
"yeah. she said that the booze is free, and i think nanami's going, so i thought..." you hint, not even sure what you mean.
i thought we could talk. i thought we could go together and maybe everything would go back to normal. i thought that we were friends, if anything, and that you cared about me--
satoru hums. "what about the kids?"
"tsumiki has a birthday party that night, and megumi likes the sitter from last time," you wince at your accidental mention of that night. "or he can come, i guess, but he'd probably hate it."
satoru snorts, nodding in agreement. you watch his hands freeze, then resume.
he's thinking the same things you are, you know. he's thinking about how stupid you are, how ridiculous it is to imagine him being in love with you, caring about who you are or how you feel.
you just know it.
"so..." you whisper, after a second. "do you want to go?"
you feel like you're standing on uneven ground. how can this be the only real conversation you've had with satoru this week?
how can you miss him this much when he's literally right there?
"i don't--" satoru makes a face, finally looking toward you. he sets down the pen. "i don't think so. but you can go and i can stay here with megumi," he suggests easily like he's not rejecting you. "we can have a guy's night."
"megumi hates guy's nights."
satoru has a cheeky grin on, but it's half-hearted. barely there.
like a glimpse of him in a peephole, a moment where he's not hiding completely from you.
he doesn't say anything, though. he doesn't even bother to come up with a better excuse.
it's clear as day that he just doesn't want to hang out with you, even in a crowd of people.
"that's okay," you hum, eventually, trying to keep your voice steady. "i don't really--"
"no, you should go. you haven't seen nanami in a while. you can have a night out," he says genuinely, but it sounds more like i need a break from you.
"yeah," you try to laugh. "i--um, okay. if you're sure."
he nods, looking away again. he hasn't touched you in weeks. your skin is almost molding, going completely stale. "i'm sure. we'll order dinner, so you don't have to worry about the brat complaining."
"okay."
"okay," satoru answers, but it doesn't mean anything.
and it's not okay.
*
the two of them walk through the door, and megumi looks... pleasant. he's got the makings of a smile on his face, a little jump in his step.
it's one of the only times you've seen him look like the ten-year-old he is, instead of someone who's concerned about economic collapse.
it makes you smile a bit, even if just the sight of satoru sends pangs down your chest.
"hey," you say, hand on his head as he lingers by you, eyes meeting yours in greeting. you look to satoru, who's pretending to wipe away a smudge on his glasses. "where were you guys?"
"we were--"
"gojo took me to that old hospital by my school," megumi says, "there were cursed spirits hanging outside. he let me and my divine dogs deal with them," he says this almost excitedly--as excited as megumi gets--and you can see it in his eyes. that little twinkle of pride.
your eyes widen, but you smile, trying to be genuine. it's difficult because you've been lying for weeks. "really?" you ask, trying not to look over at satoru accusingly. "how'd it go?"
"good," megumi, moves to the sink, washing his hands. "they're getting better at scenting them out. it didn't take long."
"that's great."
"megumi didn't need any of my help," satoru adds, giving you a short glance. "he's got good intuition."
megumi looks at satoru with a glare in his eyes, but you can tell that he appreciates the compliment.
you can tell that he's completely fine with this, that the two of them are going to act like it's normal, but you can't.
you try to ignore it when megumi looks between you and satoru, a slight furrow in his brows. he knows something wrong, you know. but you're not going to admit that.
you swallow. "do you have any homework you need to finish, megs?"
"uh..." he pauses. "i think so. reading?"
you smile, hand on his back as you lead him out of the room. "okay, how about you go work on that? i need to talk to satoru real quick."
he nods immediately, looking eager to leave--both the room and the tension.
as soon as he's gone, you turn to satoru, narrowed eyes as you observe him. he's already smiling because he knows that he's in trouble. because he knows that you're angry.
because, even if he hasn't actually spoken to you in weeks, satoru has always read you so well. he's always known what you're going to say before you say it.
but you can't care about it. it doesn't mean anything to him.
“you can’t do that,” you say, almost whispering. “not without asking me.”
“i knew you’d say no.”
you laugh, looking away from him. “exactly.”
“he’s fine,” satoru reassures. he shrugs, because why should he care about your concern? “he did good, and there’s not a scratch on him. i’m sorry for not telling you but—“
“no buts, satoru. you can’t take megumi out on missions like he’s a student. he’s not. and you definitely can’t do it without even telling me," there's a burning in your chest. your head is clouded over with anger.
just looking at him--at his ridiculous smile and stupid perfect face--makes you clench your fists.
how can he stand there and act like you're a team?
“it’s not a big deal. i was there the whole time—and he didn’t need me.”
“i don’t care!”
satoru rolls his eyes, his arms crossed. “i think you’re overreacting.”
“i’m not," you say, trying to get him to look at you--actually look--but he won't. it makes your chest hurt even more. "you’re not telling me things—fine, whatever, keep whatever secrets you want, gojo. don't bother talking to me. but you can’t keep secrets from me about the kids.”
“secrets? i’m not—“
you shake your head, hands in the air, trying to clear all of it away. you want the past month to go away, the past six years. “megumi’s just a kid. he’s ten. he can’t be going on missions, not until he’s ready.”
“i think i’ve already proved how ready he is.”
“well, maybe i'm not ready. he’s a kid.”
“yeah,” satoru says, obviously. he scoffs. “yeah, he’s a kid. but he’s also a jujutsu sorcerer. you can’t separate the two.”
his voice is all-knowing and his stance is firm. you know that you won't convince him otherwise--know that he's right, to some degree, but this isn't about megumi.
this isn't about cursed spirits or jujutsu.
“yes, you can," you say, clenching your jaw. "he doesn’t need to be seeing that shit right now. not until he decides he wants to. practice his technique with him all you want, but you can’t just take him to exorcise a curse with you.”
“like i said, he’s fine.”
“it’s not about that! it’s about you doing something reckless—again—and acting like there aren’t any consequences to your decisions. he’s my son,” you hiss, “he shouldn’t be going anywhere i don’t know about. you shouldn’t be making decisions about him behind my back.”
you shouldn't be pushing me away, you shouldn't be ruining this--
“so you want to lock him up here?" satoru asks, laughing at you. his teeth are sharp and he is still. "you want to take away his ability to defend himself?”
you scoff. “are you kidding? you think me saying i don’t want you to get him killed is equal to me—“
“he was fine. if anything—anything—had been there that megumi couldn’t handle, i would’ve taken care of it. i wasn't going to let anyone touch him. that’s why i was there! and he didn’t even need me," he's boasting, swearing to you--you can feel it as he rolls his eyes at you.
“you know what he needs, satoru? he needs you to treat him like he’s a little boy and not some experiment for you to play with.”
“i would never—“
you cut him off, “bringing him out into the open, where anyone could see him, could hurt him, and making him deal with your cursed spirit is not okay.”
“i didn’t make him deal with anything," satoru swears, chin up.
you snort. the two of you are standing in front of each other, arms crossed, head guarded. your muscles are tense like something is about to attack you. “oh, so he asked you to go?”
“well, no, but—“
“then you made him! you put him up against a monster and treated him like a student, like a 16-year-old, and not your son.”
the words feel nice to say. some version of the truth that's much better than whatever this version is. if satoru won't talk to you, you'll talk for him.
you'll make every assumption, every bad perception (because he's supposed to keep you from worrying, he's supposed to be there to calm you down, to save you from that spiraling). but if he's not going to try, neither will you.
satoru’s eyes grow hard. “what?”
“why can’t you just let him be a kid? why do you have to push him into these things—“
“we talked with megumi about who he is,” satoru grinds, “he knows about the privilege of his strength, and the fact that he has to work to use it—“
“a ten-year-old shouldn’t have to work for anything!”
he laughs at you. you can't see his eyes, but you watch his face as he tries to hide his expression, trying to keep his voice low. the kids are still in the house, so you shouldn't be yelling. but you can't bring it in yourself to really care.
“what do you think the point of him living here was? why do you think we took him in?”
you gape at him. “are you kidding?” you ask. “are you serious? we took him, and tsumiki, in because you’re responsible for killing their father! because they didn’t have anyone else, and that’s your fault.”
“you think i don’t know that?”
“well, i thought you did," you say, stepping away from him. some part of you wants to push him out, make him leave. the other part desperately wants him to stay--to say he's sorry. "but you just said that the only reason megumi is here is so you can teach him! when i agreed to this i thought you were facing the consequences of your actions, doing the right thing for those kids because you could. i thought you wanted to take care of them! to keep them away from our awful, messed up world.”
satoru is staring at you with his jaw clenched.
you continue, without consideration for the consequences of your words. “i didn’t think that you only wanted to keep megumi here so you could train him, like a dog.”
“that’s not what i said.”
you shake your head, a bitter smile on your face. “well it’s what you meant, and clearly you have no regard for his feelings or the way that curses might affect him—“
“don’t act like i did it just to mess with him," he interrupts, harshly. "it’s not a joke. i want him to be strong, i want him to be able to take care of himself—“
“and i want him to have a dad who isn’t so selfish!”
“what?”
“did you even think about it? what about the nightmares he’s going to have?" you wonder, rhetorically. "what about the fact that he’s different—that he’s already struggling to relate to other kids in school? what about him, satoru? why is it only about you?”
what about me? you don't say.
“i didn’t bring him for me—“
“you want a replacement. you want someone else to deal with everything, while you sit back and watch. i know what you’re trying to do—“
“really?" he points at you, the other hand clenched in the air. he's laughing again. "you can read my mind? you’ve already been let in on my plans—“
“don’t you wish that you’d had the opportunity to be just a kid?” you demand. “don’t you want that for megumi?”
he shrugs. “sure. but it’s never going to happen.”
“well, clearly, because you won’t let it.”
“he gets to be a kid every day. god forbid i take him to see one curse, to understand how to use his powers, to protect himself, and you treat me like i wanted to kill him.”
you laugh. your mind is a minefield, and everything he says ruins another part of it.
all you can think about is him, him as a teenager, him with you, telling satoru you love him and him having nothing left to say--
but you scoff again, shoving yourself further away from him. “do you know how many times i’ve wanted to go back to when i was ten and just got to live my life? do you know how often i think about how everything could’ve been different?”
“this isn’t about us."
“yes, it is. it is, satoru, because i didn’t get that chance and neither did you. and you just took away megumi’s chance.”
“i didn’t take anything away," he says, softly, like he's trying to convince himself.
clearly, you've struck a nerve.
“he’s never going to be able to look at the world normally, but he doesn’t need the burden of saving people before he’s even in middle school.”
“why is being strong so bad?” satoru asks you, demanding something more. why am i so bad? “why do you treat it like it’s a curse? like it’s going to hurt him?”
“look at you!” you respond. “look at suguru, and me, and shoko! look at any jujutsu sorcerer and ask them if being strong is worth it—is worth screwing your life over.”
satoru looks taken aback. he steps away from you.
“god, it’s like you think that we’re a different species," you tell him, never having felt like it's more true. "you’re human, satoru. you might be the strongest, but you’re still human, and you still have nightmares like all of the rest of us.”
he shakes his head at you.
“why do you want that for megumi? why push him into this right now?”
“i want him to be able to take care of himself. so that he doesn’t die like our colleagues, so that he doesn’t make the wrong choice like—“
he stops, his voice breaking before he can continue.
and maybe you know what this is really about, but if satoru doesn’t want to tell you how he feels, if he wants to pretend like it doesn’t matter—
fine. you will too.
“it wouldn’t make a difference. he’s already—his life is already messed up.”
satoru looks at you, his eyes ablaze. “don’t you think that if i was him, if i could’ve been stronger, if i could’ve saved all of those people—don’t you think i would do it in an instant? don’t you think i know that because i wasn’t strong enough, people died?”
this is the thing you've feared since you were eighteen, a brand new person responsible for two little lives. you've feared satoru's moral commitment since before you met him. since you saw him destroy a curse in an instant and realized he was different than everyone else.
“megumi isn’t you! he doesn’t need to be taught to take on the responsibility of everyone’s lives—“
“you can’t say that i’m selfish, that i don’t care, and then say that i care too much,” he says, shaking his head, unable to look at you.
he hasn't been able to look you in the eye in weeks.
“you’re both!" you say, almost yelling. "you’re everything. and you don’t think! you haven’t thought for a moment about what megumi might be feeling, who he might want to be—“
“and you have? what about what you want him to be?”
“i want him to be happy! i want him to grow up better than i ever did. i don’t want him chasing a bunch of cursed spirits around on the weekend like it’s a normal thing—“
“it is normal. for us, it’s normal. for him, it’s normal.”
you sigh, a weight on your chest, a burning in your throat. “well, maybe it shouldn’t be.”
you're not going to start crying now. not with satoru watching, not when he gets to know just how much you care.
satoru scoffs. “so you’d just have everyone defend themselves--"
"i don't know how you're arrogant enough to believe that you can save everyone--"
"--you’d just forget that we’re strong for a reason, that we--“
“but you’re never going to be strong enough, satoru. never.”
satoru stares at you. he doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t hesitate, and doesn’t bother to argue.
and after a moment he turns around. you reach your hand out to grab him--hold onto him and keep him here, because this isn't finished, and you're not done with him. you haven't even started.
but you run into a wall. you look down and your hand is dangling idly in front of his arm, stuck in the air.
you can't see satoru's eyes, but you can feel his heart--your heart--as it skips a beat in realization.
but then satoru shakes you off, pushes you infinitely farther away from infinity, and keeps going.
he walks out the door, slamming it shut.
you stand there for a moment, watching. you wait for the door to open again, for satoru to come back, for him to laugh--tell you that everything's fine, that it'll all be fine. that it's okay if you're angry, that he doesn't care.
but after a minute, he doesn't return.
and after another, you have to lean against the counter. your hand burns--but maybe that's just your imagination. you're pretty sure that infinity has no drawbacks, that there's no consequence for touching, for not touching satoru.
pretty sure.
but you still look over your skin, trying to see if he's left some mark. it would be nice to have some evidence of what he's done to you. you clench your fist, but the feeling doesn't go away.
and maybe it's not your hand. maybe it's your chest. maybe it's these weeks of feeling separated, feeling miles apart from him, feeling like it's all your fault that any of this has happened.
you... you can't even remember what you were arguing about.
you feel like a kid again, hiding yourself in your room just so your parents don't have to deal with you. you feel like that little girl who hid in the cupboards, trying to escape the monsters that no one else could see. you feel like that smaller, reckless version of yourself that left home at the first chance, who knew she wasn't allowed back.
are you allowed here? you wonder. is it going to happen again? are these monsters--real and fake--too much for your family to handle again?
you exhale, trying to catch your breath again. none of this feels right, normal, easy.
should you--should you call him? should you wait for him to come back?
is he going to come back?
the slam of the door is still echoing throughout the house when they creep down the hallway, making sure their footsteps are soft, but also loud enough for you to hear.
maybe you've only been standing there, waiting for satoru to turn around, for thirty seconds.
but it feels like an hour.
"mom?" a tiny voice asks, and both of them are turning around the corner, taking hesitant steps towards you.
you have to swallow. you need some water, an icepack maybe, to get rid of the burning feeling in your throat. the telltale signs that you're going to cry--that you've suffered blows to the core, and you can't backtrack now.
but you don't want to cry in front of them. you refuse to. if you didn't want to cry in front of satoru, you won't cry in front of the kids.
so you turn around, swallow again, and fill a glass of water.
you chug it down, wanting it to wash away that feeling, that ache.
you can't say anything just yet because then you'll actually fall apart.
megumi and tsumiki watch you, both of them silent as they wait for your direction. for some solution you should have.
you take a deep breath, then turn, almost faltering when you see the worried look on both of their faces, the concern in their eyes. neither of them should have to worry about this.
god, how could you forget that they were there? that they could hear everything?
how could you make another mistake?
"hey, guys," you say, clearing your throat. you want to be nonchalant, and casual, but you've never been either a day in your life.
"where did gojo go?"
"i, um," you take another sip of water, because that feeling crawls up your throat, makes itself known again. "i think he went on a walk."
"is he okay?" tsumiki asks.
"are you okay?" megumi follows.
"yeah, he's fine. he's good. i--he just needed some space, you know? um... a break."
"from us?"
your eyes widen. "no, no, no. of course not, never you guys. he's... just been busy this week. working a lot. and, i, well, he's good. we're good."
megumi leans on the counter next to you, looking at you very closely. "are you okay?" he repeats.
"i'm good, megs. it's..." you smile. "it's fine. um, did satoru get you anything to eat while you were out? i'm not sure what we've got, but i can make something if you--"
"when is he going to be back?"
you stop, sighing. you shouldn't have taught either of them how to read emotions, or how to eavesdrop. you shouldn't be speaking to anyone, or trusted with anything.
"i'm not sure, buddy. he'll be back when he's ready."
"is he going to stay out all night?" tsumiki asks, worried.
"no, i'm sure--" you stop again. "gojo will be back in time for bed, okay?"
they're both staring at you, waiting for you to say something profound, something to make it actually okay.
but you have nothing. is satoru going to come back? is he going to stay somewhere else? you know he'll exhaust himself just to avoid coming home--
this is why you shouldn't have moved in--
this is why you never should've agreed to this, allowed himself to burrow a hole in your heart, in your soul--
"hey," megumi takes a step towards you. and then, before you can blink the tears out of your eyes, reassure him that it's fine, his arms are around your waist.
he nuzzles his face into your side, squeezing tighter than you thought a little boy could.
theres only a second of this before tsumiki's on your other side, and squeezing just as hard.
your hands fall on both of their backs, and you take a breath that feels more like never breathing again. your lungs won't fill, and your chest is incomplete
but they stand there with you, and eventually, your heart begins to match theirs, and their little hands keep you together.
you can't cry, but you really want to.
*
satoru's entire body feels different.
he knows what it's lacking, the changes he's made in a short period of time--giving himself no time to acclimate, no pause where he slowly adapts to the differences.
he misses you.
it's been like this before--when suguru left and satoru couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror, nonetheless you in the eyes--but it's never felt so severe.
because you're right there. you've been there every day, waking him up, making the kids breakfast, laughing when megumi bullies him, smiling at tsumiki's attempts at mediating.
you're there in the morning, in the afternoon, and every night. you're right there for him--and he can't say a word.
he doesn't want this, this thing to be real.
denial is his favorite emotion, and recently, he can't even muster the strength to go through with it.
and now, he feels even more hopeless, lacking, never ever enough.
but he walks through the door because he has nowhere else to go. he has no other home--besides the three of you.
it's dark outside when he comes back, and the door is unlocked, so he knows that you've been waiting. that you had to deal with the aftermath of shouted voices and scared children who he felt lurking behind a wall before he got the chance to think about any of it.
he needs to talk to you. satoru knows that, he really does. but he's not sure what to say.
he could apologize for tonight--could tell you that he won't make any more decisions, that he won't wreck this thing you've built--but it's not enough.
he should probably apologize for the last seven years. for letting himself grow attached to you, and then continue to hold you at arms length. he should probably apologize for being himself, for being less than he could be.
but those words feel too rotten to say aloud.
so, when he walks up to your door, waiting to feel your obvious presence--to see it, like he always does, the wall of cursed energy that you are--he feels like running away again.
you don't even need to know that he's home. satoru could go to bed, and he could probably pretend that nothing happened in the morning and you would follow along.
but he doesn't want to do that. not to you.
and he needs to see you, needs to say something before he figures it all out--should he leave, or stay? should he continue to push you away to protect you? should he tell you all of it?
it doesn't matter, he knows, because he probably won't be able to do any of it.
and for the first time in years, satoru makes sure to knock before he opens your door. just a small repetition of his knuckles, but he might as well be breaking down a tradition.
there's no answer, but he's not waiting, so he creaks the door open, looking for you immediately.
and he sees you, lying in bed.
and he sees your shoulders shaking slightly, with you curled up in the fetal position, and he can hear the sniffle before the door is all the way open.
there's no choice, he knows. he's not going to let you cry yourself to sleep without saying anything. he's not going to leave you alone.
you don't turn around, but satoru knows that you must know he's there. he walks across the floor, sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting for you to turn to him.
and yell, maybe. tell him to leave again. tell him that you don't want to look at him anymore.
but you don't move. your shaking is slightly stifled, and satoru can tell that you're trying to keep your breathing low, to keep him from noticing you cry.
it's foolish, really, because satoru hasn't missed a single detail about you since he was seventeen.
he doesn't say anything, but it's a natural reflex to tap your legs, to stand and slip off his shoes, gently pushing you off of the edge of the bed, towards the middle.
and then he's laying there, curling his limbs around yours, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him.
immediately, there's a release somewhere inside of him. that yearning--that ridiculous need is finally satiated.
satoru swallows. he needs to say something, he knows, but he's not sure what. should he apologize right now? should he tell you that he hates it when you cry--that he never feels more desperate to be more than in moments like this?
should he whisper that he loves you, just to get it off his chest?
but you cough, body shuttering as you relax into him, never pushing him away. and your voice is so small when you say, "you can't leave."
satoru feels the pieces of him crack into even more.
he tries to hold you tighter, but you move in his hold, turning so that you're facing him, and you nuzzle your face into his neck--trying to hide, but making sure that he's there.
your hands cling onto him, leaving marks.
he can feel your tears against his skin, your entire body on overdrive.
"you can't leave," you repeat, voice breaking. satoru feels it against the very outline of his soul.
"okay," he says, quickly. "i won't."
"i can't lose you too."
he pales, body going still. his heart might stop for a moment. "you won't. i'm not going anywhere." he sighs. "i'm sorry."
"i can't--" you're still crying, and you begin to shake again. "i can't do this without you. i won't."
"you don't have to."
"you can't leave, satoru," you say, leaning up to meet his eyes--yours glistening with years full of hurt, a lifetime of secrets and unsaid words. "please don't leave."
"i won't," he repeats, feeling a bit desperate. what can he say to prove to you that he's not like everyone else? that he would trap you within his atoms, if he could? that he would stay in this bed, holding you, even if it meant nothing, forever?
there's nothing, he knows. nothing but the truth. but that doesn't come out--it can't, now. it's not the right time.
so instead, satoru wipes the tears from your face, even though they're replaced immediately, your breath coming in short, short bursts. he wraps his arm around your back, pulling you back to him again.
"i'm sorry," you whisper against his skin, so quietly that he can barely hear it.
"i'm not going anywhere," he answers.
and, just for tonight, it's enough.
he'll fix the rest of it tomorrow.
*
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#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#a typical family#jjk satoru#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader
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