#if you were to tell me at the beginning of the year that i would develop an actual parasocial relationship with a 26 year old korean man
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Special guest | MV1
In which Max pays a visit to a primary school class to answer a few questions before the Dutch gp
or
In which Max only has eyes for the young class teacher
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Today is a very special day. Your six-year-old pupils were particularly looking forward to this day.
The Zandvoort Grand Prix, which was not too far from the school, would take place at the weekend.
In a few minutes, a very special guest would be coming to your class - the lion class.
Over the last few days, you and your class have organised and prepared a lot to make your guest's time in class as pleasant as possible.
A satisfied smile sits firmly on your face as you walk through the rows of tables and put up the children's name tags you have made so that your guest can call them by name.
You then unfold the blackboard to reveal the colourfully painted greeting.
Written in orange chalk in the centre is the words Welcome Max Verstappen.
Your pupils have painted a few trophies around it, as well as chequered flags and racing cars.
A glance at the clock hanging above the classroom door tells you that it is about time for the first pupils to arrive.
Shortly afterwards, the first pupils enter your classroom with big smiles on their faces. Some of the children are already wearing fan merchandise.
After you have greeted each child with a quick hug, the rows of tables slowly start to fill up and an excited murmur goes round the room.
"Good morning my lions", you greet your class with a smile on your lips and a little chant of welcome comes back.
"As you know, we have a visitor coming in a few minutes. But before we get there, I'd like to go through a few things with you about how we're going to behave during this," you begin as you sit down on the edge of your desk and look around the room.
Yesterday you went through the rules for today with your protégés. It is important to you that everything runs smoothly and well today.
It's not a given that someone famous would take the time to answer questions in a class full of six-year-olds.
" Who can tell me the most important things to consider for today? "
Within a few seconds, countless hands shoot into the air.
Your gaze wanders briefly through the rows before you take a boy from your class, who lists all the rules to be observed for the next two lessons.
With a satisfied smile on your lips, you thank the boy and add a sentence or two, telling your charges that it's important that they don't talk out of turn and to please come forward if they want to ask Mr Verstappen a question.
You know that the class is pretty excited and probably not everything will go one hundred per cent, but despite all that, you're really confident that it will go well.
Some time passes, during which your class spends painting Max Boliden in bright colours, until there is a knock at the door of your classroom.
Countless heads go up and look over to the door with wide eyes, while one or two squeak out.
You can clearly see the nervousness slowly rising in each of them, even in you.
You wipe your slightly sweaty hands on your black jeans before a smile creeps back onto your lips and a "Come in" leaves your lips.
Shortly afterwards, the door opens and a smiling Max Verstappen steps into your classroom.
As he does every time there's a race weekend, he's wearing one of his team shirts and dark trousers.
"Good morning! "He beams as he enters the classroom and lets his gaze wander round the room.
"Good morning Mr Verstappen! "The class literally shouts in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips.
Point one has already been successful.
"Welcome to the lion class. I am Mrs y/l/n. I'm really pleased to welcome you here today," you greet the Dutchman and hold out your hand to him, which he shakes with a smile.
" I'm delighted to be here today. "
You notice how his eyes linger on you a little longer, so you clear your throat quietly and look back at your protégés, who are scrutinising Max curiously and whispering quietly.
"Look what we've painted for you! " shouts Leona, one of your students, pointing to the blackboard and presenting the colourful picture to Max.
"You drew this especially for me? That's really great! " Max steps a little closer to the board to take a closer look at the artwork.
"And we drew cars too! " shouts the next child and gets Max's attention.
"Did you design new liveries for special Grand Prix races? " Max begins to walk through the rows to take a closer look at the coloured-in cars.
He repeatedly takes time for each of the children to exchange a few sentences with them about their coloured pictures.
Smiling, you watch him and sit back on the edge of your desk.
A glance at the map next to you shows that Max will start by introducing himself and talking about his motorsport career. Afterwards, the children will ask a few questions and get autographs. Finally, there will be a little bobby car race in the schoolyard, where each child will compete against Max himself.
"You're all really great artists. I'll show my team your paintwork and I'm sure something can be done! " Max grins as he walks back to the blackboard with the pile of leaves.
Enthusiastic murmurs go through the class as Max begins to prepare for his little talk.
And shortly afterwards, he begins to tell your class, who are literally glued to his lips, about his motorsport career.
During Max's lecture, you sat in the back row to give Max enough space at the front of the blackboard.
His lecture was quite interesting, so now you know a lot more about the Dutchman.
The children had been so quiet throughout the lecture that you are really proud and shower the children with a little praise.
"And now we come to your questions. Now you can ask me anything you've always wanted to know. But think about your question carefully, because everyone is only allowed to ask me one. "
Max holds up his index finger to make it clear to the children that they are really only allowed to ask one question.
"Just one? How am I supposed to decide which question to ask? " Liana's sad voice sounded from the front, causing Max to start smiling.
" You'll manage that, Liana. Take some time to think of a good question," you reassure the little blonde-haired girl, whereupon Max gives you a grateful look.
" Who wants to start asking me a question? " As Max's gaze begins to wander around the class, countless little fingers are raised in the air.
One or two of them even start to kneel on the chair so that they can stick their finger higher in the air and be seen better by Max.
" Finn ", Max takes the first boy.
" Would you like to drive for Red Bull forever or for Mercedes or Ferrari? "
The Red Bull driver leans against your desk and rests his hands slightly to the right and left of him as he begins to think for a moment.
Your protégés look eagerly at their star and wait for an answer.
"I actually feel incredibly comfortable in my team and so far there's no reason for me to leave. I get on well with everyone in the team and we have a good working relationship so that everything runs as smoothly as it should. I'll never rule out a change, because you never know what's to come, but so far I can reassure you and tell you that I'm not considering a change. "
A sigh of relief goes through the class, which makes you grin.
In fact, most of your class are Max and Red Bull fans.
" Who is your favourite team colleague? " Joleen asks Max after he has taken her on.
"So far I've got on really well with all my team mates and we've all got on really well, but if I had to choose a team mate who I've got on best with, I'd say Daniel. The two of us not only get on particularly well in Formula 1, but also in our private lives. "
In fact, you've already guessed this answer, as you could always clearly see how well Max and Daniel got on and harmonised with each other.
You still mourn the time when Max and Daniel were team-mates. That time really was by far one of the funniest content times at Red Bull Racing.
A few more interesting questions were asked, which Max answered in detail, such as his favourite colour, which is blue, his favourite food, which was tomato soup and the question about his pets, Jimmy and Sassy two Bengals cats.
"Is there anyone else who hasn't asked me a question yet? " Max's gaze travelled around the class.
Even after answering countless questions, he still seemed pretty relaxed and happy.
"Mrs y/l/n hasn't asked a question yet," Johann takes the floor as all the children turn to look at you.
Max also leans a little more on the desk now as he leans forward to see you in the back row.
" Do you have a question for me? " he grins.
So you start going through all the possible questions that are floating around in your head.
There are a lot of things that would interest you, but they don't belong here right now, so you decide on the simplest question that any teacher would have asked.
" What was your favourite subject at school? "
" Oh, that's really easy! " Max grins and almost claps his hands. " Your teacher will probably rip my head off for this, but I never liked going to school. The only subject I liked was geography. What's your favourite subject? "
Countless voices start shouting their favourite subjects in confusion, which Max takes in his stride with a smile and somehow tries to catch every subject.
To restore some calm, you walk back to the front and start clapping a rhythm, which the children immediately follow and the class becomes quiet again.
A quiet " Wow " leaves Max's lips, who looks at you with fascination and makes the blush rise slightly in your cheeks.
"That's the best way to keep things quiet," you almost babble as you start to clear your desk to give Max a little more space for the upcoming autographs.
You had already cleared out your desk, so there were hardly any things on it. However, you now have to keep your hands busy to avoid blushing even more or doing something stupid.
" Please line up to get an autograph. If you have an autograph, please go and put on your jacket so that we can go out into the school playground straight away. Please keep your voices down," you remind the children, who shortly afterwards line up in front of your desk waiting to sign an autograph.
You take the seat next to the door to keep an eye on the children who are putting on their jackets.
The autograph session goes faster than expected, so that within twenty minutes all the children are standing in the corridor whispering in their jackets and then follow Max and you out into the schoolyard in a duck march.
Yesterday afternoon you had already set up a small parkour, which you will have to drive through today with the two Bobby Cars.
The red and blue Bobby Car are already ready and waiting to be used.
You had even made a small podium out of cardboard boxes and bought small mini trophies to give your offspring the full programme of a racing experience.
While the children would race against Max, you would time them and the three fastest times would end up on the podium.
Max grabs the blue Bobby Car, which just fits half his knee, while Aaron can sit perfectly on the red Bobby Car.
While the two race against each other, the children cheer on Max and Aaron in different groups.
The latter narrowly wins, as Max has a few problems with the only Bobby Car.
Despite all this, the Dutchman doesn't lose the fun of the game, so he competes against every single child with joy and fun, even if it's not enough for one of the three podium places in the end.
Standing proudly on the podium with their trophies, the three winners literally raise their plastic trophies in the air until a couple of water pistols are used to replace the champagne shower and all the children run across the schoolyard screaming and chasing each other.
Smiling, you look after your class as Max stands next to you.
"That was a really nice day. Thank you for preparing so many nice things. I really don't know the last time I really enjoyed a day like this," said Max, smiling and thanking you.
"I also have to thank you. You really put a lot of effort into my class. You were really looking forward to the day, which was a real success. "
You can't stop a smile from forming on your lips as Max gives you a smile and then pulls something out of his trouser pocket.
" I forgot to give you your autograph. "
The Dutchman smiles and hands you the autograph card before also grabbing a water pistol and running over to your class.
Confused, you lower your eyes to the autograph card, which shows a grinning Max in his dark racing suit.
You really have a great class.
Your lions are really lucky to have such a great teacher like you.
You've learnt a lot about me today and I hope I get the opportunity to get to know you a little better.
Why don't you write to me
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#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one imagine
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FORGOTTEN - alessia russo
*this has been sitting in my drafts forever, it’s a bit of a longer one, some angst but happy ending, also pls imagine arsenal were in the champions league knock stages for the sake of the plot🙏🏻*
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as her front door opened the first thing you did was practically through yourself at her, arms around her neck as your mouth presses soft to hers and you being eager after not seeing the blonde for over a month which only came to haunt you hours later.
alessia had kissed you back with just as much enthusiasm, of course she did, it was knee jerk reactions but once you finally pulled away and met her gaze as she was stood frozen still with a blank look on her face - a picture of total confusion.
"what are you doing here? why didn't you tell me you were coming? i'd have picked you up from the train station." you thought she was joking when she first said it, waiting for a teasing smile to curl at the corner of her lips as she tapped her fingers under your chin and kisses your cheek, while mumbling a 'i'm kidding - i missed you'
but she didn't - her head instead cocked to the side a little.
her gaze catching a glimpse of the roses you were holding as her brow crinkled even more, "what are the flowers for?" she asked. you blinked at her slow and unsure.
still trying to figure out if she was teasing you or not but her face gave you the answer, her face was blank as her eyes took in your form.
you looked down at the roses before looking back at the blonde almost as if you had forgotten about the flowers you had bought mere minutes before knocking on her door.
a feeling of something similar to dread beginning to boil low in your stomach as a heat crept up your neck, a one that felt a lot like humiliation as you wondered if the joke had been lost on alessia and she actually wasn't interested in the stupid bunch of roses.
"you." pressing them into her chest as you watched closely as her fingers wrapped carefully around the stems.
"i mean,, i obviously didn't just get you flowers, your other gifts are in my suitcase but i was at the train station and as i was waiting for a taxi there was a little florist and i remembered you always teasing me about how your always the one to send me flowers and i never send them back to.. you" the last word coming almost out as a whisper from you as it happened so quickly.
a wave of realisation hit alessias face as your words registered to her as the pit that fell deep in your chest when you understood her expression. pulling your head back and letting your hand drop from where it was settled on her waist and swallowed through the lump that had settled in your throat
"you've forgotten haven't you." plain and simple.
alessia had forgotten about your two year anniversary, she had clearly forgotten your plans to spend the weekend together that you had planned months in advance which she ensured you she had made sure nothing was in her schedule that would disrupt said plans.
but here you were standing like an idiot in her doorway with a bunch of roses and gifts you had spent months perfecting.
tension was building in her hallway as alessia's blues eyes were soft with guilt and regret. her mouth tipped with your worried lines and the only motion you seemed to be able to find was shaking your head as well as a disbelieving huff of laughter breaking the thick silence like a knife.
"you forgot didn't you? that it was our anniversary? that i was coming?" you could feel the pressure which was building behind your eyes, the hot flush and the sting of fear as you dig your nails into your palms to keep them at bay, willing yourself not to cry.
it was silly really but you had spent the entire train ride from manchester to london as well as the short car ride from the station thinking about finally seeing her, finally being in the comfort of her arms again and she has t even been bothered to remember the date.
you hadn't thought to remind her, hell you didn't think you would need to. she had assured you so many times that the date was marked in her calendar and that she would make sure she didn't have anything booked for that day. but maybe you should have sent her a heads up text.
"i didn't, no-not on purpose" alessia swallowed, setting the roses down on the small table beside her front door and taking a step towards you. her hands over her face as she rubbed her jaw. "i knew when it was, fuck i know when our anniversary is!"
"oh really?"
"i had the plans, i was gonna book the restaurant that you like to go to when you come down and take you to the new museum that opened up in town cause i made sure i didn't go with the arsenal girls cause i wanted to take you there first as you and i bought your gifts-"
"and what after all that planning, it still just suddenly slipped your mind?" you say bluntly taking alessia by surprise by your sudden coldness towards her.
"no! it's not like-"
"how do you forget something like that?"
"i've been busy with-"
"you're not the only one who has a busy schedule alessia! i have a life too, for fuck sake i do the same job as you and i still managed to remember our anniversary!" there was a hitch in your voice as well as a tremble to match the wobble of your bottom lip and this time it was alessia shaking her head she reached out trying to cup your cheek. only wincing when you jerked away from her touch.
"i've just been so distracted with training and the barcelona match, we play on wednesday and my head just been a mess. we've been working non stop, ive not nearly had enough time to do anything - it's all ive been thinking about. there's so much pressure on the me and the team and it's just taken over my whole life this past week!"
her hand fell tucking it away inside of her jogger bottoms which were plastered with an arsenal logo and the number 23, a way to stop herself from reaching for you again.
you could see the clear tension in her shoulders, a clear apology and pain in the way she was looking at you but you weren't sure how to actually accept it, you didn't know how to stop the ache that was ever so present inside of your chest. "i'm sorry"
"i know how important this match is to you, and i know how much work and effort you out in and i'm so incredibly proud of you, you have no idea but.."
"but what?"
"i thought i was important to you"
"no, don't do that" alessia began shaking her head as a evident frown appeared as she watched you quickly swipe your fingers beneath your eyes. "don't make out that i don't care about you or that i care less about you then football - you know that's not true."
"you forgot our anniversary because of a match, alessia! that's says a lot."
"and i’ve said im sorry! i lost track of the days not of you! i got too in my head and didn't realise. this isn't- this has nothing to do with how i feel about you. i love you and that you're the most important thing in my life, you know that but i just-" her voice began to crack and she made a face, taking a step back from you when she realised you were on the other side of the door.
your suitcase knocked over from your earlier eagerness to wrap yourself around the blonde. "i made a mistake" the blonde admitted, it coming out as a whisper as she fiddled with the rings on her fingers.
"it's a pretty big mistake." your cheeks were now wet but you weren't sure when you'd actually began to cry or when your stomach began to feel funny, that feeling of being in a free fall with the sleeve of your hoodie. you wiped over you face as you let your gaze fall to point over alessia's shoulder.
"people don't just forget things as big as this because of their job. relationships aren't supposed to feel second best."
"i've said i was sorry, i can make it up to you. i'll make the dinner reservations now and we can go to the museum tomorrow - you know i didn't mean to forget, i wouldn't have forgotten something like this if everything going on wasn't so chaotic!" the blonde sighed, pulling out her phone, probably to make the reservation for the restaurant but you began to talk again stopping her in her tracks as she looked at you dead in the eyes.
"maybe that isn't enough" you needed her to stop looking at you - needing some space to cry so you could get rid of the hurt, anger and embarrassment that had crawled onto your skin.
wanting also nothing more than to push the roses into the bin in her kitchen because looking at them were making the tears build even quicker.
"c'mon love, please i'm sorry. you have to let me try-"
"i don't have to let you do anything."
you probably sounded childish and maybe your reaction was, she had apologised and explained and maybe deep down you did understand but in the moment all you felt was anger. she had hurt you, making you feel as though you and your relationship was easily forgettable.
there was a breakdown building inside of you and as stupid as it may sound - the last place you wanted it to happen was in front of her.
"y/n" she spoke softly, as you sniffed and turned a blank expression at her. "i don't want to talk about it anymore. you forgot, you're sorry, no biggy right?"
"that's not what i said and you know it, let me fix it.. please."
"it's whatever" you mumbled moving your way towards your suitcase, tugging it into the house as you awkwardly pushed the door closed and moved you way around alessia's body. the blonde reaching out for you arm but you tugged it away - throwing a look toward the flowers. "you can just throw them in the bin, t'was a stupid idea anyway."
"y/n, baby."
"don't-" the sigh that escaped your lips was watery, the tears starting to fall again now that you were no longer facing your girlfriend. "can you just leave me alone?"
you hadn't spoken since then, both of you annoyed. you were embarrassed and hurt and alessia was riddled with stomach sinking guilt which she was unsure of how to get rid of.
she was avoiding the bedroom and likewise you were avoiding the living room which was a hard task considering she needed to use the bathroom and you need to use the kitchen. but with each passing it was met with a awkward silence - neither of you clearly ready to talk.
it was unlike the two of you. you rarely every fought and even if you did it would be over something silly like who had missed the other the most and would be resolved within an hour being brushed away with many breathy i love yous and mumbling apologies.
but this was different and not something that was small or stupid and couldn't simply be forgotten about because alessia had made you laugh.
she had forgotten your two year anniversary, forgetting that you had been due to visit her after being apart for a little over a month - this being the only time you both had off since you were still playing at manchester united and she had left to join arsenal.
the hurt that had unfolded in your chest as the image of her blank look reappeared in your head was nauseating.
embarrassment taking over you as the moment replays over and over in your head. you felt ridiculous standing there on her front step, roses in your hand that you had bought for her as it had always been a very long going joke between the two of you that you never returned the favour, hanging limp at her side.
it now being a little after four am and you were yet to find any sleep, the soft hum of traffic on the streets of london as a small breeze hit your hands creating small goose bumps on your hands.
your gaze glued to the street lights and cars which drove slowly down the street - each one having their own story. only blinking when the coldness of the air hit your eyes making them water.
her bed felt uncomfortable and cold - hence why you were sat outside on the small balcony at four in the morning. the lack of the blondes warmth was very noticeable as you had spent the entire night tossing and turning - huffing in annoyance and readjusting your pillow at least 25 times.
you wondered if she was still awake, still mulling over the afternoons fight - if she was feeling as bad as you did going to sleep on an argument after spending the whole day not talking.
it was now almost morning and you were missing not being pressed up against her, missing the way her head would be resting against your chest as she kept your hand intertwined with hers. there was no point trying to go to sleep so with a huff you pulled yourself from the floor of the balcony and pulled a discarded hoodie from the floor over your head.
for a few seconds you simply pressed your nose against the fabric of the collar, her scent of strawberry shower gel and perfume still lingering. tickling your senses and making your tummy dip once again.
it was stupid how you could miss someone so much when you were only a few apart.
you were still mad, annoyed and hurt that something so important has slipped her mind but you did understand the pressure she was under while still trying to prove herself at arsenal. you wanting to forget that yesterday had happened and spent the weekend the way you'd originally planned.
but you were too stubborn and even more so when you were hurt and so instead of finding your blonde lover in the living room and cuddling yourself against her. you instead made your way to the kitchen, your sock covered feet barely making a sound.
the living room was dark beside the tv where the low hum of a film was making it difficult for you to hear if alessia was sleeping or not. but taking her lack of movement as a sign that she was, you carefully made your way past her. flicking the switch to turn the kitchen light in with a slight wince.
the first thing your eyes were drew to once they adjusted to the bright light was the roses, placed neatly in a vase on the kitchen counter - the protective wrapping gone and your throat suddenly went tight alongside a fresh set of tears prickling your eyes.
the flowers had been an impulse were an impulse buy, an inside joke which turned bitter when you realised it had gone over alessia's head but still she had set them out for everyone to see.
the second thing was that she had left your favourite mug beside the coffee machine, everything prepped and ready for you to use, a clear indication that despite your lack of communication the night before, she had clearly been thinking about you.
both were small gestures, meaningless really on a bigger scale but they had your heart squeezing tight with a small smile tipping at the corner of your lips - the first once since you had arrived.
while you were waiting for the coffee machine to heat up you rearranged the roses, an unnecessary task but was really just to keep your mind from wanting to alessia.
if you thought about her you'd probably begin to cry again, your emotions still getting the better of you but as if she knew you were subconsciously thinking of her she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.
her pink silk pyjama bottoms were slung low on her hips, a black hoodie covering her top half - the strings different lengths and was something that drove you crazy and taking everything inside you not to go and fix the strings with careful fingers, to press your lips to her chin.
her blue eyes were rimmed with dark circles, tired and dull and no doubt a mirror image of your own appearance and an obvious indication she hadn't slept either.
her blue eyes darting between you and the rose petal you were rubbing between your fingers. "they weren't a stupid idea"
the coffee machine began to splutter behind you, hissing a little with age and without replying you spun to make your drink. alessia's gaze sticking to your back and you could feel it as you added a coffee pod to the machine and slotted your cup beneath the spout.
without realising you reached for alessia's own mug, it being a habit of muscle memory alone and took out a vanilla late pod from the box on the side.
"look i know it doesn't matter how many times i say sorry, i know it doesn't make it any better but i am forgetting was a shitty move and football isn't an excuse but you have to know that it wasn't because of you. i think about you constantly when your not down in london, everything i look at here reminds me of you but this has been the week from hell and I've let everything get on top of me, and i'm so incredibly sorry."
her voice was thick with emotion, a harsh scratch to her usually honey sweet voice that made your insides ache. you knew she was sorry and you knew she's try anything in her power to make up for it and you also knew that your silence was slowly eating her alive as the hours went on but you weren't exactly sure what to say.
you weren't sure if you could say anything without getting upset again. instead you settled for grabbing a spoon, keeping your gaze locked in your coffee.
"tesoro." alessia was only a few feet behind you. "you can't ignore me forever"
"i can try."
"yeah?" she settled against the counter at your side back pressed into the cupboard and regarded you with lowered lashes.
you didn't meet her gaze, only swapping the old coffee pod for her new one and slipped her mug where you'd had previously been, an action which didn't go unnoticed by alessia.
"what about when you need something off the top shelf?" she said trying her best to crack your silence, but the only noise being made was the tinkling of the spoon you were using against the sides of your mug.
alessia sighed, "hey, look at me." her fingers hesitantly found your face, unsure if you were just going to move out of her reach but you didn't. her soft touch against your jaw as she tilted your head up until your gaze finally found hers. her brows crinkling in concern.
"i'm sorry, okay? and i'll continue to say it as many times as i need to until you forgive me. i know this isn't something small and i know i’ve hurt you and i hate that, you know you always come first and above anything and anyone else and i'm sorry if i made you feel like that wasn't my intention"
her thumb brushed over the skin beneath your eye and it was impossible not to turn your cheek into her palm, seeking comfort in her touch. "it's not an excuse, but i've nearly had anything to do but train and it just slipped my mind what this weekend was - but that doesn't mean you or our relationship are ever second best. i love you so much, just-just please let me make it up to you"
the coffee machine beeped when alessia's coffee was finished but not one of you made a move to grab it, gazes locked in a heated stare, one that was unfurling a hundred different emotions inside of you.
she looked unsure, worried that you may turn away from her, that this weekend was going to be spent in silence and that you were going to leave on bad terms. the longer you stared at her the more her face seemed to relax.
"let me fix it please"
"it was a shitty thing to do and it hurts"
"i know and im-"
"but i don't want to fight, i’m no in way saying it's okay or that it doesn't feel any less like shit but i know the amount of pressure you put yourself under and i know that this match is important to you." you fianlly allowed your hand to rise to her shoulder and pull at the strings of her hoodie making them the same length, fingers grazing the warm skin of her neck.
knowing this relationship is important too.
"you're important to me me." alessia brought your fingers to her mouth, pressing a series of soft kisses over your knuckles. "i know it doesn't make up for it but i really did have everything planned"
"it's okay."
"it's not and you know it's not" she tipped your hand, palm up and skimmed her mouth over the centre her eyes locked on yours. "but i want to fix it, if you'll let me. i have the day fee - i can book the restaurant and we can go to the museum and do whatever you want, i know it won't be the same but.. please"
there was a note of desperation in her tone and it was only then that you realised how close she'd drawn you to her, your bodies almost pressed flush together. you knew the full ache in your chest wasn't going to disappear immediately but you also knew alesssia was sincere in her apologies and in her determination to things right and it was obvious that despite yesterdays anger you wanted to spend today with her.
"i'm still mad at you."
"i know, i deserve it."
"but i've missed you."
alessia gave you a little nod, slipping her hand around the back of your neck her thumb brushed back and forth over the skin beneath your hoodie.
"i've missed you too, i promise today will make up for it!" her breath fanned warm over your lips and you hadn't even realised you'd filled your mouth towards her. the hurt that had been wedged in your chest was beginning to lift and being replaced with a burning need to have her arms around you.
it had only been hours but you felt her absence like a lost limb, a need blooming deep inside your bones to be pressed flush against her.
"i think you can start by kissing me."
"that i can do!"
alessia smirked slightly, bending her head and using her hand that was already in your neck to pull you in and close her mouth over yours. the kiss was soft and slow, a gentle drag of her lips over yours. the sweet and languid stoke of her tongue when you opened your mouth and angled in closer.
the tips of her fingers grazed your jaw and then she was cupping your cheeks and pressing your back into the counter, tugging lightly at your bottom lip before returning to kissing you.
heat trickled thick like honey down your spine, your hands fisting the material of her black hoodie tugging her impossibly closer before you wound your arms around her waist.
you didn't want to stop kissing her. you wanted to stay in this moment forever wanted to keep swallowing the sound she was making low in her throat until you were dizzy off them but alessia had other ideas. pressing a few single kisses to you mouth, her blue orbs opening and licking to yours - a gaze a lot lighter then when she first walked into the kitchen.
"i bought you a gift. for yesterday, it's been in my drawer for months and i spent the whole night staring at it thinking i wasn't going to have the chance to give you it"
she kissed the corner of your mouth and then your forehead before letting her hands drop from your face, once of them reaching into the pocket of her hoodie.
"i got it made at this jewellers when we were in australia, i thought it would maybe be a small piece of me that you could have with you even if we are not together" she blinked, sending you a sheepish smile as she pulled a little box, holding it between you and the palm of her hand.
"it probably silly but i remember you saying while we were in australia that you wanted a new necklace, one that you could wear all the time so-"
"lessi." you cut through her rambling with a soft laugh, letting your gaze dart down towards the box.
"huh? oh- sorry, here open it" doing as she said, you took the small box from her. lifting the top and revealing a thin gold chain and a tiny dainty gold charm - the number 23 sat pretty in the box, no bigger than the size of your pinky nail. a rush of emotions shifting through you, a small smile breaking out across your face as you fingers grazed over it.
"thought it might be nicer than my initial"
"it's beautiful"
"i love you, and yesterday- yesterday was stupid and i loyalty fucked up but it wasn't because of my feelings for you" alessia swallowed thickly, the worried crinkle had returned back between her brows but you were quick in lifting your head and pressing a reassuring kiss to her mouth.
"i know - and not because of the necklace but because of everything else you do for me, yesterday was a mistake and i know you love me and i love you, so much. what happened wasn't going to change that" you smiled softly and with your free hand grazed your fingers across her jaw before settling your hand against the back of her neck, pulling her softly into another kiss.
you let the kiss speak for its self and say everything you hadn't already, putting all your love and adoration into it. making sure that alessia knew how you felt and that you weren't going to let yesterday become a roadblock on your relationship.
feeling her hands on your waist beneath your hoodie, her finger tips warm as she gripped you, pulling you closer. the necklace was still in the palm of your hand, alessia realising this when she felt the edge of the box jab her in her stomach. the blonde pulling back, settling her forehead against yours.
"i love you, la mia bella ragazza"
"i love you, lessi."
liked by ellatoone and 894,107 others
alessia one year down, forever left to go❤️ i love you tesoro
comments -
yourusername forever? i have to put up with your clumsiness forever!
49m 125 likes reply
-> alessia i’m not that bad!
ellatoone i see how it is, cutting me out of the first photo!
1h 140 likes reply
-> alessia that wasn’t me!
-> ellatoone yeah yeah🙄
millieturner my favourites🥹
1h 98 likes reply
-> yourusername we love you🩷
#woso#woso blurbs#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#arsenal women#awfc#arsenal wfc#awfc imagine#awfc x reader#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo#lionesses#enwoso#england wnt#england women#england
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mechanic ex-boyfriend simon riley
notes & warnings: the used pictures are only for aesthetic purposes, reader is not physically described in this. AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS DNI this is an 18+ only blog. a significant age gap between simon & reader is implied but the actual number is never mentioned. if i missed anything please lmk:)
this is a completely unedited little something i wrote at 4am
reader who never fell out of love mechanic ex-boyfriend simon
you still recommend your ex-boyfriend’s garage to your friends (especially any vulnerable women) because despite your failed relationship, you’ve never met someone as trustworthy and reliable as simon
you and mechanic simon who met when you’d found a used car you wanted to purchase and wanted to have it independently inspected
reader who found this older, ruggedly handsome, stoic and yet professional mechanic who seemed to know his shit. despite the terrifying skull design resting next to his shop’s name, you trusted him immediately
not only did he inspect the car for you, but he also helped bring down its price and performed any necessary repairs at a huge discount (he never told you about this, you eventually figured it out on your own)
despite the obvious crush, he was very reluctant to pursue anything with you. not only were you his client and trusted him not to make things weird, but you were also so much younger and he felt like an old dog who was beyond learning any new tricks
you should’ve taken his warning from the beginning as he had predicted the downfall of your relationship before it’d even began
reader whose car has been acting weird for the past couple of months so you begrudgingly take it to simon’s shop
you’d actually tried taking it to some new garage in town, but had a feeling you were being lied to and overcharged when the sleazy mechanic barely spent an hour on it and said it was back like new
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who doesn’t even need 5 minutes to tell you it’s on its last leg. despite his stoic demeanor, he’s actually concerned by how you’ve been driving such a vehicle in such an unsafe state
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who starts asking till he finds a car within your budget. one he inspects himself to make sure his baby not anymore doesn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere because of faulty brakes
the fucker was ready to buy it himself, but knew you’d never accept his money (especially not after the harsh parting words you’d left each other with during your last fight)
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who’ll never love anyone more than you, but still isn’t willing to repair the broken bond between you two
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who still uses o’keeffe’s working hands cream every day cause you used to always rub it on his hands, swearing his calloused skin would soon feel like a baby’s butt (and of course you were right). he tries to mimic the way you’d gently work it into his damaged skin as the only thing he had left from you now were memories
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who never really tries to move on from you despite his apprentice’s attempts to set him up with multiple people (what’s the point of you for something he’s already found)
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who went through the army and came out even more damaged after a stint in prison. he believes nothing good will come out of such a sweet thing so full of life being chained to a grumpy old man like him
mechanic ex-boyfriend simon who despite thinking all of that can’t accept the thought of you being with someone other than him
WHEW the is the first time i've written in YEARS (and i probably won't write anything for another good 5 years fjkdsw). hope you enjoyed this as much as i did!! this au idea has been rotting my brain for the past few days and i just had to let it out. feel free to dm me, leave a comment or send an ask about this au. dividers made by @anitalenia ✨
#mechanic ex-bf!simon#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost x you#cod imagine#cod x reader#cod#call of duty x reader#call of duty#modern warfare#modern warefare ii#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#ghost mw2#sam's cod fics
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𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖕 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕺𝖓𝖊
𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.
𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and @bambi-slxt started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.
𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety
𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 5,906
“W-Wait, what?” Matt’s eyes widened, his eyebrows raising. “What do you mean I might not be able to graduate?”
The school counselor sighed, lifting her glasses from the bridge of her nose and placing them onto her desk. She leaned back in her plush swivel chair, looking at the nervous boy sitting across from her. Her office was comforting, a place that Matt had found solace in quite often on his bad days. She never used the overhead light, always opting for the warm glow of her floor lamps and the flicker of light from the flame in a scented candle. Her bookshelves were littered with not only books, but numerous knick-knacks and do-hickeys. Most people would have seen it as clutter, but Matt found comfort in the items she had, which more or less reminded him of his grandmother’s house.
She turned her monitor for him to see, and she visibly saw the blood drain from his face. Her screen glowed with a much harsher light, the gradebook showing Matt’s transcript laid out in front of him. “You’re proficient in your American History class, but the rest of your classes for the semester are in the gutter. Socioeconomics, U.S. Government, European Literature, and Chemistry are all greatly negatively impacting your overall grade point average.” Matt’s head fell, his hands coming up to rub his face. How could I have let it get this bad? How could I be so negligent? How was it even possible? She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. She had grown to like Matt, he was polite and always greeted her with a smile, he was very open with his thoughts and feelings, and he really did work hard. She empathized with him, because she knew how it felt to be in this spot. “This is a reversible situation - we can fix this. You have options, Matt.”
Matt looked up from his lap, his hands falling onto his thighs. “W-We can?”
“Yes,” she replied with a smile. She swirled her chair around, unlocking one of the drawers in her filing cabinet and opening it to reveal a number of filing folders. She fingered through them before pulling out a sheet, turning her chair back towards her desk and placing it down in front of Matt. “We have a tutoring program available, and I think you would benefit greatly from it.”
“Tutoring?” Matt frowned, staring down at the paper. He never thought in his life that he would need tutoring. How embarrassing. I’m doing so bad in my classes that I need another student to teach me. What if I know them? What if they tell everybody? Matt looked back up at the counselor, hesitation clear on his face. “Are there any other options?”
She sighed, putting her glasses back on and turning the monitor to face her once again. Matt watched intently as she clicked her mouse a few times. Matt instinctively brought his hand to his face, subconsciously beginning to chew on his nails. I can’t choose tutoring. Chris and Nick will never let me hear the end of it. This is so embarrassing. Can’t I just retake a test or something? Why did I let it get this bad?
“Unfortunately, the only other option I have here is for you to retake these classes again…which would also mean repeating senior year.”
Matt hadn’t realized he had chewed his nail off. He dropped his hand back to his lap, discreetly spitting it out when she wasn’t looking at him. “I’ll take the tutoring,” Matt sighed. The thought of not graduating with Nick and Chris made him feel queasy. His stomach turned over just thinking about his brothers walking across that stage while he sat in the audience and watched. His brothers holding their diplomas up with cheesy smiles on their faces for their pictures that would surely be framed and hung on the walls of their parents’ house for the remainder of their lives; all while Matt would have to wait another year to meet the same fate. Another year of high school, this time without his brothers. Without Chris to make him laugh, to make the day move by just a little quicker. Without Nick, who always looked out for Matt, always offering to ask the teacher any questions that Matt had to take the heat off of him, to avoid any anxiety inducing feelings that Matt might have had. I can’t do it. I wouldn’t last a day without them. Any chance to avoid that outcome is one he would take, no questions asked.
x o x o x o
I should have asked some fucking questions. Matt’s heart pounded as he pretended to look at something on his phone, switching between his social media apps anxiously; not that any of them were bustling with activity, he just needed something to make himself look busy. She was here. I wasn’t prepared to see her. Holy fuck.
For the past four years, Monday through Friday, once the bell rang after the final class of the day, Matt had booked it for the locker room. Shuffling through a crowd of boys, shoving Chris (and getting shoved right back), listening to a variety of music through his headphones (mostly Kid Ink, Lil Skies, Mac Miller, and Post Malone), and throwing on his gear for lacrosse. Today, however, he sat awkwardly in the school library, leg bouncing, chewing at the skin around his pinky fingernail. His headphones tucked away in his pocket. No music to drown out his thoughts. Why didn’t I ask more questions? I can’t do this; I can’t be here with her. This can’t be happening. She…looks so pretty.
Across from him, a few tables over, she sat on the table itself, cross-legged and completely at ease. A light blue sweater hung off her shoulders, a pair of khaki cargos crinkled over her legs, worn-out white air forces, and a pair of hoop earrings rounded out the simple, gut-wrenching outfit.
Matt hated feeling this way. She drove him insane, and she had no idea who he was. That was a lie - they had a few classes together. Incidentally, those same classes glowed red in the gradebook. It didn’t take him very long to figure out why.
For the past four years, Matt had walked into school every morning hoping in equal measure that she had shown up and that she had suddenly become homeschooled. Every single class, he would stare at the door just hoping he’d catch a glimpse of her, whether she was walking into the classroom or just passing by in the hallway. He knew where to look for her in the hallways between classes, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart rate pick up when he’d see her in the flood of other students chaotically herding through the halls.
Now she was his tutor. She was the reason he was failing, and she was his tutor. His counselor had no way of knowing, but she had just doomed Matt to repeat senior year. He was not about to sit down with that girl and make a complete idiot out of himself.
Lifting his backpack and hooking the strap over his shoulder, he got up and turned for the door. At that moment she looked up from her book, her eyes locking with his, and he froze.
Her hair fell softly along the edges of her face, and she looked at him with mild curiosity. Matt’s breath hitched in his throat. Years of her never even noticing me, and now she’s looking at me and…smiling. Oh god.
Don’t you dare fuck this up, he heard Chris whisper in the back of his mind. “Fuck off,” he muttered and began to walk towards her.
“Is this where I’m supposed to be for uh…” He didn’t want to say it. Normally people would jump in and finish sentences anyway to avoid uncomfortable silences. She did not. She just continued to look at him with minimal interest, her smile growing a little in amusement. Oh god. This isn’t happening. Somebody please pinch me. Or shoot me.
Matt felt the heat rising to his face, his breath catching in his throat as she stared at him. “Tutoring. I’m here for tutoring.”
She slipped a bookmark between the pages of the book she was reading and pulled a knee up to her chest. Matt caught a glimpse of the cover of the novel, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. A hockey player? I played hockey. Should I say that? Does she like hockey players? Lacrosse is like hockey… in some ways. Should I-
“You’re Matt, right? One of the triplets?”
Matt blinked. “Yeah.”
She smiled again, placing her book down onto the table. Icebreaker? Matt made a mental note to look that up later. “I think we share a few classes, right?”
“We have Socioeconomics, European Literature, and Chemistry together, and when Chorus comes into the auditorium to practice, I run the soundboard for you. You took Workshop with me and Chris, and I could never focus on a single project me and him had together. We had Math and Introduction to Culinary together last year, all of our electives the year before that, and in ninth grade you were in my home room and study hall. You’ve always been in my lunch block, and you like to eat out in the courtyard under the willow tree far away from the picnic benches. You’re in the photography and Yearbook club because you love to take pictures, and you also run the school’s yearbook account on Instagram. You never get breakfast because it hurts your stomach to eat in the mornings but if you forgot to have dinner the night before, you’ll go through the line in the cafeteria and get an old-fashioned donut and a cup of mixed fruit. You prefer peppermint gum over spearmint, you always wear shimmer lip gloss instead of clear, you chew on your lip when you’re thinking really hard, you write sloppily when taking notes, but your papers are written in cursive. You’re terrifyingly beautiful, and I’ve wanted to talk to you for four years.”
That’s what Matt thought about saying. Instead of opting for that particular route of social suicide, however, he simply went with, “Yeah, I think we have one or two together, right?” and sat his bag down.
Don’t fuck this up. You cannot fuck this up.
x o x o x o
“Ms. Coleman said you were behind in some classes,” she said, pulling out her laptop from her bag. “Which ones?”
‘All of them’, He thought to himself. Matt sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “What am I not behind in?” he mumbled.
She looked up at him through her lashes. Matt felt his stomach twist up in knots. He had imagined her looking at him like this more times than he could count. Usually late at night when he was in bed, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes screwed shut as he bit back soft whines and whimpers as his arousal leaked into his fist. He couldn’t help but feel his pants tightening around his crotch as filthy thought after filthy thought played in his head.
She smiled at him again, and Matt suddenly realized that she had been speaking. His stomach dropped. “S-Sorry, what?” he stammered. She laughed softly, a sound that made Matt’s heart leap up into his throat. “I asked if you could be a little more specific.”
Matt cleared his throat. “Um, Government, English, Socioeconomics, and Chem.” He looked down at his hands in his lap, the thoughts from earlier looming over him. I won’t graduate. Mom will be so disappointed. Dad won’t speak to me for a year. Chris and Nick will move on in life without me. She probably thinks I’m an idiot. Who the fuck fails almost every class in their last semester?
He could have sworn he felt his heart come to a full stop when he felt her hand on his shoulder, his head snapping up in an instant. “Hey,” she cooed as Matt met her gaze once more. “We’ll fix this. We have four months until graduation. You have time.”
Yeah, time to spend my afternoons drooling over you and retaining no information. Four months to sit here and gawk at you every fucking afternoon while my grades continue to plummet. Four months of me rushing home after these tutor sessions to beat off before Nick and Chris get home from their after school extra curriculars. Either way, I’m failing this semester.
“Why don’t we start with English, hm? I’m in that class with you, third period. We have a paper due on Friday.” She opened her laptop, pressing the power button repeatedly. Matt swallowed the lump in his throat – fuck. The paper… he was hoping to avoid it altogether. Sensing his hesitation, she raised her eyebrows. “Have you started it?”
Matt blinked. He licked his lips, suddenly noticing how dry they were. “...No.”
“Me neither,” she grinned, and Matt felt his shoulders relax. She had a beautiful smile, and it so rarely appeared on the Somerville High property, even less so in the classes they’d shared. It made him wonder what else he could do or say to make it stay for longer.
“It’s okay,” she continued, tapping away at her keyboard, urging the ancient relic to awaken and let her log on. “We can write it together.”
“Yeah, sure…together,” he said, taking out his own laptop, proud that he had enough focus to keep his hands steady. He wanted to make her smile again, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how. Matt also wanted to crawl into the floor and sleep for an eternity, but his wishes seemed to have no substance. His grades did, and more than anything, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he made Chris and Nick leave him behind. Punctuating his thoughts with a deep sigh, Matt pulled up the assignment rubric. “Three pages, double spaced - that’s not bad - third page sources cited…” As he scanned the page, she, still waiting on her dinosaur of a computer to come to life, leaned closer to him to see for herself.
Her perfume. Waves of vanilla with floral notes. Undertones of musk. It was strong but intoxicating. Matt used every ounce of self-control to not turn towards her and inhale as much of it as he could. She had been using this perfume for the past three years, and Matt had become obsessed with it. He was like a stoner catching a whiff of weed, he could identify it from a mile away. He could sniff her out like a bloodhound if he really wanted to. Matt begged his brain to behave.
It didn’t.
The aching in his pants grew. Matt pulled his hoodie down to cover his lap, he could not let her see what she did to him. He felt his face heat up as embarrassment flooded his brain. Still, his cock remained half hard and his balls felt heavy with arousal. Despite knowing how wrong it was, he wanted nothing more than to rub one out. Matt used every iota of his self-control to focus on puling the assignment up on his computer. One hour. I just need to get through this one hour.
x o x o x o
“How long have you been tutoring?” Matt wanted to know more about her. It was a near-feverish affliction that kept his leg bouncing continuously, releasing nervous energy at speeds that could power the entire city of Boston.
She didn’t look up at him, pulling up the assignment on her computer. “I started last year…gave me a chance to get out of Johnson’s eighth period. Do you know why you’re falling behind in Philosophy?”
Matt didn’t hear her question at all. The stickers on her laptop were incredibly distracting - he caught a glimpse of Homer Simpson, the Monster logo, a few Pokémon, numerous band logos, Marilyn Monroe, a sick vaporwave statue head, and a plethora of raccoons. I like raccoons. Now is probably not the best time to tell her that. “Huh?”
She glanced over through her lashes, and Matt felt his air supply vaporize. “I asked why you’re failing.”
Because you walk into the room and I forget how to speak my own damn language. Because I want to talk to you so bad, but my throat closes up when you look at me. Because when you smile it makes my legs heavy…But more than anything, because I want you in ways that I have never wanted anyone before, and it is all that I can think about. No matter where I am at or who I am with, you manage to take over every thought in my head. Movie nights with my brothers where I can drown out the movie, daydreaming of what you might look like waking up next to me in one of my shirts. Dinner with my family, wondering if you like whatever it is that we’re eating that night. In the shower, wondering what your routine is like. Late nights in my room, the door locked and the lights off, clothes discarded onto the floor, my hand tugging at my cock. You are always there. You’re the reason why I’m failing, and you don’t even know it.
Matt settled on, “It’s hard to focus in there.” Not a lie. But not even close to the truth.
She nodded. “She talks in circles sometimes.” A pause made his eyes dart up to hers, terrified that he’d missed something again. But no, she was…studying him.
Her head tilted slightly, and her hazy eyes rested on his. He wondered what she was thinking about, and something primitive in his mind was screaming at him to hide. He felt vulnerable, weak under her gaze. His cock throbbed. Matt did his best to bite back the soft groan that fought to escape his throat.
“I think you might just need a body double.”
He blinked.
She continued. “The classes you’re failing, those are the only ones you don’t have with one of your brothers or your other friends, right?”
Matt nodded, wondering how she could possibly know that. He bookmarked that thought for later.
“Well, your brain probably knows that they expect you to do your work, and you don’t want to let them down, so the work gets done. Not in English or History, apparently. So, I’m your body double. And I expect you to do your work.” She grinned. “It’s corny as fuck but you’d be surprised how much you get done. Ready to start?”
Matt decided to process that particular heap of information later. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’m sending you my sources. You know how to cite them?”
His brain couldn’t register her words. It all made sense, but his brain felt too fuzzy to put the pieces together. “Sources, right. Y-Yeah, I uh…yes.”
“Good boy,” she purred. Matt nearly choked, his dick now fully hard. There’s no way she just said that. She gestured to his keyboard, and Matt began to shakily type the name of the website he needed into the search bar. Maybe I just imagined it…It’s been a weird day. Matt could feel her gaze burning into his skin like the heat of a thousand suns. His heart was lodged in his throat, he had begun manually breathing, not wanting his breaths to sound too heavy or too short.
Her hands kept brushing his arm, and Matt realized if he wasn’t careful, she would notice the way his face turned a bright red when she touched him, or worse… she’d see the bulge that could barely even be hidden by his hoodie. He turned away from her, pretending to look for something in his bag. “I um…thanks.”
“Go ahead and read those, throw all the relevant information into a messy doc, and then let me know when you’re done, okay?” Matt looked up and she leaned once more against the concrete column behind her, earbuds in, typing away in her own empty doc for the same assignment. He glanced at the stickers on her laptop, eyeing the one in the dead center with the name of a band he had never heard of. I wonder what she’s listening to. Would she like my music? Would I like hers?
Pulling out his own headphones, Matt shuffled his own playlist, and tried desperately to focus on the article in front of him.
x o x o x o
Forty two minutes later (he counted), Matt finally reached the end of the mind-numbing wall of text. No closer to understanding what the fuck he was doing, he reached out to tap the table near her knee. Her cargos sported faded stitching on their edges, proof of intentional wear as opposed to fashion wear.
When the flash of motion moved into her line of sight, she looked up from her own article, brows raised expectantly and eyes locked onto his. “How’s it going?”
“Well…It’s not perfect but…it’s better than nothing right?.”
“Mhmm.” She leaned forward, staring at his screen. “One and a half pages? Atta boy.”
Matt’s face flushed, his lips parting to speak but silence was all that followed.
“Did you do what I said earlier?”
“Yes ma’am.” Where the FUCK did THAT come from?
She wrinkled her face, her lips tugging up into a smile. “Down, boy.”
Matt almost puked. A lightning bolt struck his lungs, and they withered in his ribcage. “Sorry- sorry,” he stuttered. He ripped his gaze away from hers, blinking rapidly.
She laughed softly, the ghost of a smile passing over her lips. Matt’s head shot up faster than he’d ever admit. “Little weirdo,” she muttered, turning away from him to put her laptop in her bag.
“Oh, are we-”
“Mhm. Bell’s about to ring.”
He blinked again, opening his own backpack.
“Give me your snap.”
“Huh?”
“Your snapchat. So we can talk about your assignments and schedule tutoring for sometime other than boy’s athletics.”
How did she-
“Wouldn’t want you to miss lacrosse.” She tilted her head to punctuate her all-knowing tone, and put her phone in Matt’s hand.
As he typed megamett_44, Matt reevaluated the entirety of his life’s choices, and hoped she’d just…ignore it. Or not see it at all, that was preferable.
Neither of those things happened.
“Mega. Mett. Forty four?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
“...Yep.”
“You, um…” She gestured, sarcasm beginning to drip from her lips. “You wanna explain?”
“No I do not,” he replied, grinning nervously, avoiding her gaze.
“Hmm…cute,” She smirked. Matt felt his heart swell and his pants tighten even more at the comment she had made, just barely crossing the line of being a praiseful remark. He wanted to ask more about what she meant; Why did she say cute? Does she think I’m cute? Was she just saying the username is cute? But before he could think of something, the bell rang, and in one fluid motion, she swung her bag over her shoulder and slipped off the table. “Later,” she hummed before she disappeared into a river of students escaping school grounds for the weekend.
Matt exhaled and slumped into his chair, hanging his head as he dropped his bag back onto the floor. The visible bulge under the fabric of his shorts and his hoodie taunted him, his mind raced, thinking of all the things he could have done instead of gawking at her and stuttering one or two words at a time in response to whatever she said to him. Matt ran his fingers through his messy hair. His cheeks remained a rosy pink. He rubbed his lips with his fingers, an anxious habit he had picked up over the years in a desperate attempt to help with his nail biting problem, though very little progress had been made there.
“I’m done for,” he said, nodding decisively. “Yep. This is the end of Matthew Sturniolo.” Matt looked down at his phone, numerous texts from his brothers flooding the screen.
Nick: where are you
Chris: where r u ?
Nick: why weren’t you at lacrosse
Chris: coach is not happy with you lmao
Chris: helloooooooo
Chris: the van is still here so we know ur here
Chris: unless 😏
Nick: enough
Chris: man come on nick is grumpy and bitching about the weather
Nick: it’s fucking sweltering out and i’m sweating bullets. I’d appreciate getting into the air conditioned vehicle that we OWN
Matt sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket. He looked around, making sure that nobody was nearby as he stood up. Grabbing his bag, Matt hurried out of the library and pushed his way through the halls to the nearest restroom.
Ensuring that the bathroom was completely empty, he slipped into the closest bathroom stall and locked it behind him. Matt quickly dropped his bag to the floor, lifting the hem of his hoodie up and holding it between his teeth. He pulled the band of his shorts down, groaning softly as the friction sent bolts of pleasure through him. He slipped his hand under the fabric of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as his hand wrapped around his shaft. He hummed ever so softly as he gave his cock a few strokes.
He opened his eyes, suddenly realizing what he was doing. No, this isn’t like you. This isn’t right. You don’t do this here. He pulled his cock up into the waistband of his boxers, dissatisfied above all else, but knowing he had to hide his unpleasant erection somehow. This was a new low for him. What kind of a creep can’t even keep it in his pants until he gets home? Matt pulled his shorts back up, dropping the hem of his hoodie from where it had been between his teeth. He stepped out of the bathroom stall, taking a quick once-over in the mirror to make sure he looked put together and not a flustered horny mess, before he slipped out of the bathroom, following the mass of students rushing for the exit out into the student parking lot.
x o x o x o
Matt saw Chris and Nick leaning against the edge of his car. Matt clicked the unlock button on his key, the vehicle chirping in response. Nick opened the door to the backseat, huffing something under his breath as he got into the car. “Where the hell were you?” Chris asked, slinging his bag into the back next to Nick’s foot, closing the door behind him.
“Library,” Matt muttered, clunking into the driverseat. Chris paralleled Matt’s actions, dropping himself into the passenger seat. “Library?” Chris repeated, tasting the word with furrowed eyebrows as he turned to look at Nick, expecting he might know more about Matt’s situation.
He did not. Nick scrunched his face. “Since when do you go to the library?”
Matt groaned. “Can we just go home.”
The other two didn’t ask too many questions after that. What normally would have been a debrief session of their individual experiences from that day while feasting on whatever fast-food place the three of them had voted on, was instead a deafening silence and a painfully tense atmosphere. Matt was secretly very appreciative of this, his mind was too scattered for him to hold a conversation with his brothers, never mind care about what they were discussing.
x o x o x o
When he collapsed onto his bed, Matt checked his phone, brows furrowed in surprise. He’d gotten a notification from Snapchat (a rarity), and his heart shot up into his throat when he saw who it was from. He tapped on the notification to see that she had sent him a photo of herself - her hair fell in waves around her face, and Matt could see the glint of her earrings. She wasn’t even looking at the camera, making the edge of her eyeliner effortlessly severe. Matt’s chest went aflutter, and he stared at that picture for a very long set of minutes. “Here’s my snap”, she had typed, and once he tapped out of the photo, Matt added her back.
But they hadn’t spoken past that.
He laid on his bed trying to think of something to say to keep talking to her, but everything sounded desperate and corny. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to talk to her for hours, about anything and everything. He wanted to know everything about her.
As the sky darkened, Matt scrolled aimlessly on TikTok, then Instagram, then back to TikTok, avoiding Snapchat to the best of his ability. His mind refused to let go of her, and it was starting to piss him off. What is she doing? Does she stay home on school nights? Does she go out? What are her hobbies? Does she play video games? Would she play them with me? Does she like to read outside of school too? When does she go to bed? Does she like to stay up late? Does she go to bed early? Why can't I think of something normal to say to her?
Matt dragged himself out of bed, crumpling slowly to the floor. He leaned his head against the edge of his mattress and sighed - what a fucking day.
A knock at the door had him lifting his head from where it rested against the mattress. “Hi, honey.” Mom. “You eating dinner with us tonight?”
He stood up, crossed the empty floor of his room quickly, and pulled his door open. “Hey Mom.” Matt leaned into her, and Mary Lou slipped her arms around her son.
“Hi baby. Somethin’ on your mind?”
I’m failing.
I’m failing four classes.
You and dad would be so disappointed.
I feel tired and sick all the time.
I just want to go to sleep.
Graduation is in four months.
Nick and Chris are gonna leave me.
I’ll have to repeat senior year.
It’ll all be my fault.
The girl making me fail is the girl trying to help me pass.
I can’t focus on anything.
I’m so fucking tired.
“Just missed ya.” Matt sighed. He hummed when he felt his mother's loving arms embrace him just a little tighter. “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
x o x o x o
A dark room. The brush of fingers over silk. A candle flickering shadows against the walls. The faint scent of vanilla. Pleasure flowing through his body. The buzzing hum of a vibrator. More waves of soft tingling flowing from the center of his body.
“Good boy…”
He sighed, lips parted, eyes closed. His hips began to shift upwards, slowly at first, pushing against the vibrator, aching for more. Instead, his leaking, rock-hard cock met a soft hand. He whimpered, digging his pelvis into the pillowy skin. “Awww…d’you wanna hump Mommy’s hand?”
“Yes…” he pleaded, his head lolling to the side, chest heaving. “P-Please, I-I... Please.”
Her fist began to slip around the head of his cock. “Please what?”
“Nnnghh…please let me hump your hand. I need it s-so bad, p-please, it hurts Mommy, I just wanna…jus wanna feel your hand around my…my…”
Another hand cupped his balls, silky-soft thumb rubbing spine-tingling circles over his pleasure-filled skin. “Hmm? What was that, pretty boy? Mommy didn’t quite catch that.”
“My cock, miss, I…p-please reward me…please, I-I’ve been so good…”
She smiled, amused by how easy it was to get him riled up. “Go ahead, baby. You’ve been such a good boy. You deserve a little treat, don’t you?”
Matt didn’t need to be told twice. His hips lifted, his jaw going slack as his shaft slipped through her fist with ease, her hand already sticky with his arousal. A whimper grew at the back of his throat, his hips beginning to buck up into her grasp. Erotic sounds filled the room; heavy panting, his wet cock slipping in and out of her grasp, the bed frame creaking ever so quietly, her quiet praises that she’d whisper to him. “Atta boy, you’ve got it,” she hummed, earning a sound from Matt that he hadn’t even known he was capable of making. A mix between a sob and a whimper, a sound that made her press her thighs together, her core aching for him. “That’s it, baby, hump Mommy’s hand. Doesn’t that feel good?”
His pace quickened, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he began to rut against her hand. His desire was primal. It was animalistic. The way he craved her, unlike anything he had ever craved for in his life. His balls, heavy with his arousal, slapping against her wrist as her hand reached the base of his cock with every thrust he made. His tip, swollen and pink, leaking with his desire. She could feel the way his shaft throbbed, practically begging for more. Her hand gently squeezed his tip, a guttural moan falling from his rosy lips.
He began to whine now, desperate pleas pouring from his lips like thick sweet honey. “I’ve been so good, I’ll behave, I promise, I’ll be s-so good for you Mommy, please let me cum, please, I’m b-begging you, please Mommy… y-you’re so sweet and g-good to me, I jus’ wanna make you happy, please let me make you happy…f-fuck!” White-hot liquid spurted from his tip, coating her hand and his abdomen as she continued to stroke his sensitive shaft.. “Mmmph…Mommy…f-fuck…thank you, th-thank you, mmph Mommy…thank you, y-you’re so good to me…”
Breathlessly, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking up at the beautiful girl in front of him. His gaze flickered down to her hand, his cock throbbing as he saw how much of a mess he had made. Ropes of thick warm cum coated her hand, and Matt couldn’t help but think of what it’d look like leaking out of her. He watched with a dazed and aroused glisten in his eyes as she brought her hand up to his lips. Obediently he licked his mess off of her fingers, paying no mind to the taste. He didn’t care, he’d do anything she wanted, even if it meant having the lingering taste of his seed in his mouth. Once her hand was cleaned up, he pressed kisses up to her wrist, trailing up her arm, keeping his eyes low in reverence.
She lifted his head with a finger under his jaw. “You’re welcome, baby. You did so good for me, hmm?” she murmured, kissing his forehead. Matt closed his eyes, never wanting to leave this moment. “Were you a good boy for mommy?”
Matt shot up in his bed and his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He pulled his duvet cover off of him, and in the dark of his bedroom he could still see his mess leaking through the fabric of his boxers. His torso was slick with a sheen layer of sweat. Despite having already finished, his cock refused to soften.
“Oh fuck me,” he snarled, rubbing his tired face with his hands. This is going to be the hardest four months of my life.
Tags: @mattsturniololoverr @oversturn @mattslolita @simplysturn @flowerxbunnie @soursturniolo @megamett44-lover @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @plasticferal @cupidsword @liz-stxrn @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @tillies33ssss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @breeloveschris @meg-sturniolo @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @xtravrgnoliveoil @ghostlythinggoingaround @rootbeerworshiper @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @m4ttslvr @sturnioloblogs @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @taekwite @itzdarling
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo x you#mattsturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolos#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplet smut#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#smut
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Right Where You Left Me- Day 1
Series Masterlist
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
warnings: mentions of heartbreak and breakups
summary: you and charles had ended things months ago. the only problem was that you were yet to tell your families, the ones that had been waiting for your wedding day since you were both barely four years old. cue a family gathering and it was time to pretend to still be that happy couple they all knew you to be
word count: 2.4k
a/n: i decided to turn this into a series :)
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Barely three minutes in and you already wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Barely three minutes in and you were already itching to tear your arm out of his. Barely three minutes in and you had no idea how you were going to possibly survive an entire week like this.
The smile that you had plastered on your face was strained and clearly forced and your features were beginning to hurt with the amount of strength it took to merely muster up the amount of strength it took to parade around with the masked look of happiness.
In reality, you hadn’t seen a happy version of yourself in two months.
It took more willpower than necessary in order for you to glance to the man whose arm was looped through yours.
Pretending that everything was fine seemed to come easier to him- thanks to years of pr training, you would guess- but after knowing the man for the entirety of your life, you could see the flicker of pain- and no doubt disgust- that he was internally feeling with having you by his side.
Without really meaning to, you found yourself studying the side of Charles’s face for the first time in two months as he spoke kindly to your aunt, a trained look of relaxation upon his features too good to be true.
The man didn’t so much as glance your way- though he could no doubt feel your stare- as he continued chatting in a conversation that you had long since tuned out of, not caring enough to hear what your gossipy aunt had to say about the venue or the people that were already in attendance.
It wasn’t until movement caught your attention from the corner of your eyes that you finally tore your gaze away from Charles just in time to watch your aunt bid the two of you a farewell before making a beeline for the open bar.
A silence stretched in her absence as the two of you stood in the middle of the bright and heavily decorated room, arms still woven together despite the fact that it couldn’t feel like you were farther apart.
Flowers were covering every surface and a pile of gifts were already beginning to accumulate on the center table in celebration of Charles’s cousin's wedding.
Sara had this date set for over seven months, so you couldn’t exactly use the argument that it had been sprung on you- but it also happened to slip your mind in the midst of all of the chaos that accompanied the last few months.
What you had never expected when a notification popped up on your phone from your calendar as a reminder of the wedding, was that another notification would pop up shortly after. A text message from Charles.
Until that point, you thought that he had surely blocked your number, opting to cut off every tie to you that he had. But perhaps he had done what you had, sat in front of your phone for hours after that terrible night, finger hovering over the block button, but not a single part of you being able to actually go through with it.
The message informed you in the shortest way possible that it would be for the best to go to the wedding together. Together. A word that hadn’t described the two of you in two months.
At first, your eyebrows had furrowed and a mixture of anger and utter sorrow rose from inside of you at the mere audacity of him to suggest such a thing, but as if he could read your mind, another text came through shortly after explaining that it would probably be for the best considering both of your families would be in attendance.
And just like that, the emotions had simmered out inside of you when you realized he was right.
For your families had known that the two of you had loved each other long before you two had.
Your grandparents had been best friends, then your parents, and then the two of you when you were born.
To them, it was the biggest miracle on earth when the two of you shyly admitted your feelings for one another at the mere age of sixteen, having supposedly danced around them for years.
It was hard to say who was more excited about the young, blossoming relationship, you two- or your families.
You and Charles had been best friends all of your lives, and even continued to be after you had begun dating, and life was looking like nothing but rainbows and sunshine. From Charles’s formula one career taking off, to you graduating university and starting a business of your own- all whilst supporting and loving each other wholeheartedly- everything was pointing towards the happily ever after the two of you had always dreamed of together.
That is, until it all came crashing down one fateful night. The night that had started as romantic and happy as could be, but came crashing down and ended in two broken hearts.
After you two broke up and went your separate ways, neither of you seemed to have it in you to tell either of your families, the people that were more supportive of your relationship then anyone. So, the two of you kept it to yourself and your closest friends that you knew wouldn’t tell anyone.
When Leclerc’s fans began questioning your wearabouts- the paddock's most beloved WAG- Charles would put on a tight smile and reply in the simplest way possible that you were busy with work and would no doubt turn up eventually.
A lie he told through his teeth.
At first, you had hesitated, knowing how awkward and hard it would be to pretend to be happy with Charles once more. As if everything was normal and there was nothing wrong.
But then you thought about it, and you really did like Sara. You didn’t want to ruin her big day by creating drama between your families and having the only thing they’re talking about be the two of you. That would be unfair to her on many levels.
So, you would just have to suck it up for a whole week while the festivities unraveled. During that, you would keep yourself as far from Charles as possible whilst still putting up the illusion of being the lovesick couple your families knew you to be.
Then, after it, you would figure out how to tell them all that you had broken up. And then, you would never have to see Charles Leclerc ever again and he would never have to see you.
It was awkward, the two of you just standing in the center of the room, though nobody so much as glanced at you a second time, not thinking much of it.
Gently, you slipped your arm from his hold, missing the way his eyes shot to you as soon as you did, you being too busy focusing on your shoes, “I’m going to get something to eat,” You muttered quietly.
It was the first thing either of you had so much as muttered to each other.
When you had both arrived at the venue for the welcoming party, you had wordlessly taken one another's arm in the parking lot and strode into the building. He had barely allowed his gaze to settle on you, and you had no doubt that he was too disgusted to even bother.
What you didn’t expect as you began weaving through the crowded room, was to feel his presence still behind you, wordlessly following like a lost puppy. It was something that he did so often when the two of you had been together that it felt almost natural.
Whenever you were in public and you needed to go somewhere- whether it be to the bar to get another drink, or to the cash register to check out at the grocery store- he would follow behind without complaint. You used to tease him for it constantly, calling him a puppy dog.
But he had taken it all in stride, simply smiling down softly at you before attaching his lips to yours and whispering that he couldn’t bear to be away from you if he could help it.
Over the years of you two dating- even before you weren’t- it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to always be attached at the hip. With his racing career, it meant that he was almost always away for long intervals of time. So when you actually had time together, you both tried to make the most of it.
By the time you reached the food table, you were still yet to look at him as you silently began piling snacks onto a paper plate.
Your gaze only lifted by the sound of your name falling out of someone's lips, and you glanced up just in time to see Arthur bounding your way, a wide, boyish grin resting upon his features and his arms out wide.
Silently, and almost like second nature, Charles carefully took your plate out of your hands and held onto it as his younger brother wrapped you up into a tight hug, which you gladly returned, the first hint of a real smile peeking out from your features.
“It’s good to see you too, Arthur.” You teased lightly as you pulled away slightly, getting a good look at the boy.
“My god, I’ve missed you.” The boy threw his head back and groaned when he pulled away, “My brother over here’s been so moody without you the last few times I’ve visited his races.”
Your eyes quickly darted to Charles at his brother's words, but the man kept his own gaze trained on the boy.
You forced a smile, “Well, I have been really busy with work.”
“Or so I’ve been told.” Arthur was grinning widely and he threw you a wink before jabbing his brother in the stomach with his elbow, “I must say, I thought the next time I would be at one of these things was for your wedding.” He was only teasing- harmlessly, at that- and you both knew it, but it didn’t stop either one of you from immediately tensing up.
“Arthur,” Charles warned, his voice low and his features hard.
The brunette boy held his hands up in surrender, eyes slightly wide, “It was only a joke, mate.” Though his voice was still light, brief hesitation flickered through his gaze. He glanced back to you with a smile, “I’ll leave you two to it, then. Have a lovely time.”
With that, he slipped away just as quickly as he appeared, but that didn’t stop your body from staying tense. Your posture rigid and your eyes trained on the spot that he had been standing in.
A gentle nudge to your side snapped you out of your thoughts to Charles gently trying to give you your plate back, his eyes focused anywhere but you.
Anger flared up inside of you suddenly, and you didn’t take the plate. Instead, letting out a loud scoff and maneuvering around him, storming out of the room as quickly as you could.
Thankfully, everyone seemed to still be too preoccupied in greeting one another to notice.
You could sense Charles behind you once more as you slipped into an empty side room, crossing your arms over your stomach and squeezing your eyes shut briefly with your back to him.
He was silent, waiting for you to speak first, leaning up against a nearby counter, his eyes scanning over you.
Finally, you turned to him, “What are we doing here, Charles?” A long sigh left your lips as you lifted a hand to run through your hair, fingers weaving through until you could pull slightly at the roots in agitation.
The brunette man standing across from you was tense. His shoulder muscles were locked and his jaw was set tightly while his arms were crossed over his chest, “What do you want me to say?” The softness of his tone didn’t match his rigid appearance in the slightest.
A humorless laugh left your lips as you spun on your heels, shaking your head, “I want you to tell me that we’re through with this. With the lies.” Your gaze cut to him once more, face dropping the mocking smile, “We broke up two months ago, Charles. And yet here we are, pretending to still be together at your cousin's wedding.”
Leclerc pushed himself off of the counter he had been tensely leaning against, eyes hard as he stalked closer and closer until he was towering over you. Despite the intimidation of his movements, you didn’t so much as bat an eye, staring up at him with daggers of your own.
“This isn’t a good time to tell them,” He spoke lowly, “It’s Sara’s wedding and we don’t want to take the attention away from her happy day. Not to mention the fact that it would kill our families if we told them.”
Your families. Your families that had been friends since long before the two of you were born. Since your grandfathers were kids.
They would take the breakup almost harder than you did in the beginning. Almost.
A slight scoff escaped your lips, “It’s never a good time.” You reminded him, referring to the multiple occasions the two of you had already had this discussion, “So, what? Do we just keep pretending to be dating? What’s next, a fake marriage? Will the charade continue until I’m walking down the aisle and we’re both bound to this unhappy life forever?”
Something flashed across Charles’s expression as he took a quick, recoiling step backwards.
It was a low blow, and you knew it. And yet, you couldn’t seem to care.
You waited silently for a moment, eyes dancing across the man’s features as he just stared back at you, having already cleared his face of whatever emotions had managed to escape his hold.
“Whatever,” You turned and began making your way out of the room, “But I hope you know that this isn’t gonna be able to go on for much longer. We can barely stand to be in the same room as each other, let alone act as if everything’s okay.”
And it was only the first day out of six that you had to be trapped in this lie.
･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
Taglist: @vicurious28 @janeholt3 @youre-on-your-ownkid @amberpanda99 @theseerbetweenus
#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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I don’t know if you’re writing for Chris but I have a request. Reader is a virgin and is inexperienced like she has zeroooo clue about sex and she is hella shy.
Chris is her first time and he’s teaching her and is helping her to talk about the things she wants because she gets embarrassed really fast when she’s talking about this topic. Just make it smutty but also cute. I had a dream about this last night I NEED A FIC ABOUT IT. U can come up with everything just be very detailed. I hope u understand everything, English isn’t my first language 💗💗
nervous
Paring: Chris Sturniolo x Reader
Summary: You and Chris had just started dating, and you were finally spending the night at his house for the first time. One kiss leads to another, and you can't help but feel lost. You want Chris but you were nervous, as this would be your first time.
Warnings: smut, first time, Y/N is used, pet names ofc. (praise kink if u squint)
Authors note: Thank you for the request! I actually love this sm. (Keep sending in requests, I write for Matt as well!)
Word count: 2769 (holy shit??)
───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───
My heart begins to pound against my chest as Chris kisses me, blindly leading me towards his room. My fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as his tongue traced my bottom lip, making Chris let out a soft groan into the kiss. My back was pushed against a cold surface, to which I could only guess it to be Chris’ door.
Chris’ hands find their home on my waist, his hips surging forward so I can feel how hard he is for me. Chris breaks the kiss to leave a trail of kisses down my neck, beginning to suck onto my soft skin of my collarbone.
“Chris!” I gasp out, my back arching into his touch. He smirks against my sensitive skin before he bites softly, driving me wild. He uses his tongue to soothe his previous attack, making it all the more pleasurable.
Chris returns to his full height, “You look so good like this sweetheart.” He murmurs, letting his eyes scan over my features, “Can’t wait to see how you look when you cum on my cock.”
My breath hitches at his words, stumbling after Chris as he lets me walk into his now open bedroom. I make my way to his bed biting my lip, I was nervous for what was to come, but I was ready.
The hardest part would be having to tell Chris, knowing he’d get upset if I didn’t. Chris shuts and locks his door before turning to face me. I twist my hands together, one of my unfortunate nervous habits, and he quickly takes notice.
He glances down at my fidgeting hands, “Baby, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He speaks gently, walking to stand in front of me. He takes one of my hand into his, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss.
I shake my head, “I want this.” I reply, itching to snatch my hands out of his grip. I could feel my cheeks flush with heat underneath his gaze, and tears threatened to fill my eyes.
“Then what’s got you so nervous?” He quietly asks, lifting his other hand to my cheek, to guide my head upwards to meet his eyes. Panic shoots through his expression as he meets my own watering eyes, moving to take a seat next to me.
“You.” I whisper to him, closing my eyes, “This will be my first time.” I admit, keeping my eyes closed. I couldn’t bare to see the look on his face right now.
I hear him quietly gasp from beside me, “You can’t be serious?” He asks, making me frown.
I open my eyes to look at Chris, who looked completely shocked, “I know, I’m 20 years old and have never been with someone. I understand if you don’t wanna be with me either.” I mumble, and begin to stand.
Chris stops me, “Baby, no. I’m honored to be your first, if you want me to be. We can wait if you want even, I’m in no rush.” He smiles softly at me, making my heart warm. "I'm just surprised you hadn't had sex before, you're so damn sexy."
"Why haven't you told me this before?" He asks, making me take a deep breath.
I shrug, "It's embarrassing Chris, I dunno."
He places a sweet kiss to my forehead, "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about with me, okay?"
I nod in understanding, “I’m ready for you now, Chris.” I whisper as he wipes the stray tear that had fallen. Chris nods and leans in to kiss me again. It starts off as sweet, but within a few moments it’s gotten messy and rough. Chris slots his tongue past mine, licking my teeth has me moaning out.
Chris leans further into me, and I take it as a hint to scoot backwards onto his bed. I let my head fall against the pillows as Chris climbs on top of me, running his hands from my thighs to my waist. He pulls away briefly to remove his zip up hoodie and his shirt, and my jaw wants to fall open.
Sure, Chris has been shirtless in front of me before, but it just felt different this time. I bring one hand to the center of his chest, and I can't help but grin as I feel how quickly his heart is beating. Chris rolls his eyes at me, and lifts my other hand to his chest as well.
He drops his hands and I begin to move mine, dropping to his stomach, letting my acrylic nails slightly scratch at the sensitive skin of his lower stomach. Chris lets out a quiet whimper as I do this, and I can't help but try to roll my hips, seeking some sort of relief.
"I wanna hear what feels good to you." He states as he leans up to kiss me briefly, "Wanna know what you like." I hum in response, letting him know I heard him.
Chris begins to play with the bottom of my shirt, "Can I take this off baby?" He asks, making my hands freeze. I look at anywhere but him when I nod, "Wanna hear words, pretty girl." He murmurs, grabbing my chin so I would look at him.
My cheeks flush, "Please take it off." I whisper, biting my lip as Chris mutters praises while slowly inching my shirt upwards. I lift my arms and help him remove it from my body, quickly leaning back against the bed.
Chris' jaw drops, taking in my bare chest for the first time, "Fucking perfect." He groans, lifting both hands to cup my breasts, making me gasp. My eyes fall shut as he pushes them together, his thumbs running over my nipples. "Eyes on me sweetheart." He speaks, making me let out a whine.
I meet his eyes just for him to lean down and take my nipple into his mouth. Instantly I'm arching my back into his chest, my hand flying to the back of his head. "Chris." I gasp as he lightly sucks around my sensitive bud, I subconsciously grind into him making him moan around my tit and I swear I'm in heaven.
He switches to the other one as I keep grinding against him, tugging on his hair as his mouth gets greedy, his teeth slightly scrapping my skin. He releases my abused bud and begins to kiss downwards, shuffling down the bed.
"Did you like that baby?" He asks cockily, as if he didn't know the answer already. I stay silent, which he doesn't like, as he suddenly nips at my hip.
"Fuck, yes I liked it." I grit out, peering down at him as he helps me spread my legs so he could rest between them.
"Good girl." He praises me, squeezing at my inner thighs. I whine, the anticipation nearly killing me at this point. He meets my eyes as he begins to roll my shorts down, and I lift my hips as he slides them down.
"Wanna taste you." Chris mumbles, kissing from my lower thigh to almost exactly where I needed him the most. I had never been this turned on in my life, so everything seemed to be coming easier to me. "Please." I beg him, watching as a satisfied smirk settles on his lips.
He leans forward and places a kiss to my clit over my panties, my hips wanting to surge forwards at the pressure, but I refrain. Chris bends my knees for me, and my heart is kicked into overdrive as I realize this is really happening.
He pulls my panties to the side, his eyes leaving mine as he takes the sight of me completely bare in. I open my mouth to whine but my words are cut off with a moan as Chris leaned forward and let his tongue begin to explore me.
"So fucking wet for me," Chris groaned, trailing his tongue down to my entrance before retreating, "Tastes so good." His tongue finds my clit, making my back arch off the bed and my hips twitch. Chris quickly rests one of his arms across my waist, anchoring me in place.
My hand finds his hair as his tongue starts twirling around my clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure throughout my body. It was almost too much. I gasp as I feel his fingers sliding up the skin of my thigh.
"Gonna get you ready for me, that okay baby?" He asks, pulling away from me. His chin glistens, wet from myself and I wish I could take a picture. Maybe next time.
"Please Chris." I reply, desperate for some sort of relief. His tongue returns to my clit as his pointer finger lightly swipes through my folds, collecting my wetness. He circles my entrance, before he slowly starts to push in. It's a weird feeling, but it feels so good.
"Chris." I gasp out, his finger slowly thrusting into me, as he applies more pressure to my clit to ease any discomfort I could be feeling, "Feels so fucking good." I choke out between my moans, and I can feel the coil in my stomach begin to form.
Chris hums against my clit, making my hips buck into his touch. I feel a second finger start to push in, and the burn of the stretch hurts so good. My eyes shoot down to Chris, who is already looking up at me. The coil in my stomach grows even stronger, making me whine out.
"Chris I t-think I-I'm close." I stutter out, both of his fingers pumping into me at a decent pace. I throw my head back as I moan, as Chris had started to hum against my clit, the shockwaves of pleasure overwhelming me.
My eyes fill with tears, and the coil in my stomach finally snaps. I gasp and moan as I release on Chris' fingers, my hips twisting and turning as I ride out my orgasm. Chris finally pulls away, removing his tongue from my clit and he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.
"I could eat you out for hours." He rasps, shuffling upwards and taking in my tear strained face, "You look so pretty when you're fucked out." He groans, slamming his lips onto mine.
Our tongues meet in a frenzy and i can taste myself as his tongue traces mine. I left my hands fall to his sweatpants, sliding my hand underneath the thin fabric. I feel the hard outline of his cock through his boxers, and when I begin to trace it, Chris' hips stutter against my touch.
"Fuck, baby." Chris pants, quickly kicking off his sweatpants before he's letting me explore him again. I can feel him throbbing in my hand, and I can't help but wish he was doing that in my mouth.
I slip my hand inside of his boxers, feeling the smooth skin of his cock for the first time. Chris lets out a whimper as my fingers gently brushes against his slit, feeling the bead of precum.
"You're gonna make me cum if you keep that up." Chris groans from above me.
I look up at him with wide eyes, "What?"
Chris smiles down at me, "You don't even realize how much power you have over me." He whispers, leaning forward to kiss me again. He removes my hand and starts to peel off his boxers without breaking the kiss. My hands go to his shoulders, trailing over his collar bones as he backs away from me.
"This is gonna hurt." Chris tells me, while grabbing a condom. He goes to put it on but I stop him, "Show me how?" I ask shyly, to which he nods. I sit up slightly as he hands me the condom.
"Rip it open." He instructs, and I follow suit, "You gotta pinch it a little, then place it on my tip and roll it down." I grin excitedly once it's on, my smile fading as I look to Chris and find him biting his lip with his eyes close.
"Chris?" I whisper, lifting a hand to his face. His eyes flutter open and meet mine.
He rests one hand next to my head, the other taking hold of his cock. He rubs his tip through my folds, teasing me as he bumps against my clit. I suck in a deep breath, trying to control my hips from wanting to squirm away from his touch.
"You ready baby?" He asks, peering down at me. His silver chain with the planet dangles between us, and he's never looked hotter.
I nod, "I'm ready for you, Chris." I softly reply, gripping his arms as he begins to push inside of me. My jaw drops open at the new feeling, the burning sensation from the stretch making my eyes water.
"I got you baby." He soothes me, bringing his hand from my waist to cub my clit, attempting to distract my body from the pain. I choke out a moan as he's fully inside of me, stilling his hips to give me time to adjust.
"Baby?" He asks, brining me out of the trance I had fallen into. I meet his worried eyes, "Please move." I whisper, shifting my hips. He places his lips on mine as he begins to slowly thrust, the tears now falling as the burning sensation intensifies.
I meet Chris' eyes, and the pain falls away. Pleasure replaces it instantly, as I take in the sight before me. His eyes are boring into mine, his cheeks flushed. His mouth is open in a silent moan, his necklace swinging with the rhythm of hips hips jutting into mine.
"Feels so good." I moan out, my hands moving to dig into his back. Chris groans from above me, his hips moving faster.
"Yeah?" He pants, letting out a groan, "You like the way I fuck you baby?" He rasps, moaning loudly as I clench around him. "My dirty girl likes dirty talk, huh?" He asks, smirking down at me.
"So much." I gasp, tugging him down to kiss him. Time seemed to stand still as I savored this moment, feeling the warmth of Chris' skin hovering above mine. Chris' hands traveled my body, tender caresses warming my heart.
The coil in my stomach rapidly builds, as Chris' hips get more erratic, leading me to believe he's getting close too. I clench down on him at the realization, and Chris moans into my mouth.
"I'm so close." I whimpered as soon as Chris pulled away from the kiss, my eyes fighting to close.
Chris lets out a grunt at my confession, "Me too baby. Wanna come together." He pants, shifting my knees back more, changing the angle. The tip of his cock hits deeper now, making me let out a rather loud moan as he hits a special spot within me.
"There it is." Chris comments, keeping his hips positioned the same way and speeds up his thrusts.
"Chris!" I gasp loudly, my back arching. I did my nails into his back as I begin to teeter on the edge of my orgasm.
"Y/N, come with me." He demands, and the coil inside me finally snaps. I moan out Chris' name as the waves of pleasure come to a crest.
"Fuck! You're squeezing the life out of me sweetheart." Chris groans, and I can feel his release enter the condom, and his thrust slow down before stopping once we rode out our orgasms. Chris disposes the condom quickly, laying down next to me.
"Hi." I whisper, turning to face him. He let a smile grace his lips before he leans forward and places a short and sweet kiss on my lips.
"How was it?" He asks, gently rubbing my arm.
I smile at him, "Good. Really good." I reply, making him laugh.
"Thank god." He laughs, before turning slightly serious, "I can't wait till you're crying on my cock, purely from the fact it feels so good."
I gasp, "Chris!"
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo
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Lost Cherry
pairing: yuta okkotsu x f!reader
themes/content: dark content. yandere/stalking. non-curse modern college au. language, smut. scent kink (?), alcohol consumption, drugging (no nsfw during), oral (f receiving), semi-public sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.8k
a/n: "i love this guy and whatever undiagnosed anxiety disorder he has" is my fav yuta quote i've ever heard and honestly...me too (and yeah this is based off the tom ford perfume what about it)
Yuta noticed everything about you. How could he not, when the essence of perfection, an angel reincarnate, was here before him?
He truly saw you, his dark eyes boring into your soul as he soaked in your every move, every reaction, every thought.
When you met him your freshman year of college you thought he was sweet, albeit a little strange, his intense gaze putting you slightly on edge for a reason you couldn’t quite pin down. But nevertheless he was always the perfect gentleman, holding every door for you, driving you to class when it rained, bringing you your favorite foods when you were sick. He did it without question, as though caring about you came second nature to him, like it was his one true state of being.
The two of you continued growing closer over the years, sleeping on each other’s couches when study nights ran long, going to concerts of a band you loved together, cooking your favorite foods. It was almost uncanny how similar you two were, sharing the same taste in everything, Yuta’s smile never faltering as you gawked at him in disbelief when he recognized the obscure reference you made or when he happened to guess your coffee order. “I guess it’s just fate,” he’d grin as you laughed in awe.
But it’s not fate, he thinks. Fate would never be so careless as to risk letting you slip from his grasp; no, it was him. Time and time again he outsmarted the universe, foiling its plans to separate you. He knows you because he sees you, understands you, in a way no one else ever will (he’ll make sure of that). It wasn’t hard, really - he was always naturally observant, calculated, patient. All he needed to get close to you was a few chance meetings, accidental run-ins, where he could show you just how much he cares about you. And you, being as sweet and kind as you are, fell right into his open arms.
He loves you because he sees you.
He sees the way your lips curl into a smile as you sip your drink from across a crowded bar, a slight frown forming across your features as some pathetic excuse for a man tries to speak to you, making an idiotic joke you politely laugh at; he sees how you fidget with your hands, pulling at the chipping nail polish during class, a tell-tale sign you weren’t understanding the material (and an opportunity for him to explain it to you later while you studied); he sees the way you move when you’re alone, when you think no one’s watching, when you finally let your guard down and ease into the truest form of yourself.
It’s almost like you wanted him to see you, presenting yourself to him like a book with the pages peeled open and the cover ripped off, making it impossible for him to look away. It was only natural for his eyes to wander the words of your soul, mastering the lines and sentences of what makes you you.
So it’s no surprise when he gifts you a perfume that perfectly encapsulates your energy, your essence. After months of searching he finally found one that met his standards, living up to his mental representation of who you are. He knows you’ll love it, and you do - you begin wearing it everyday, the sweet scent of your skin filling his senses whenever you step into a room. The warm, amber notes become equivalent to you, a signal of your presence, a smile gracing his lips every time it wafts by him.
The one thing he doesn’t tell you is that he bought a second bottle, just for him, his best kept secret, the cherished liquid that evokes vivid memories of your laugh, your eyes, your skin, your voice, your everything when he smells it.
It’s harmless, really, when he sprays it on his pillow to help him fall asleep, calmness immediately washing over him as he pictures you there, holding him. He could practically feel the warmth of your body in his empty room, imagining how your soft hands would trace his body.
And when he wakes up, the scent of you still lingering, a smile graces his face as he nuzzles into the cool pillow.
It’s not his fault when he grows dependent on it, spraying the liquid into the air as he screws his eyes shut, picturing you. The way you’d kiss him, how smooth your skin would be, how soft your lips are, how your hands would feel wrapped around his cock, how warm and tight your cunt would feel around him. As he slides his fist around his length, he can’t help but moan your name, the idea of you filling his mind.
You.
One word, all-consuming. You occupy his thoughts, cloud his mind in bliss, every waking second. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
So when he sees you at a house party, wrapping your arms around his neck as you go in for a hug, why the fuck do you smell different?
“New perfume?” he asks, trying to hide how visibly taken aback he is as he pulls away from you.
Nodding, you take a sip of the drink in your hand. “Mhm,” you hum over the music. “Friend got it f’me. Y’like it?” you slur slightly, swaying in his grasp.
“I-it’s nice,” he stutters, his fingers beginning to dig into your arms.
How could you?
Glancing down, he notices the nearly empty cup you cling to, mind racing as he formulates a plan. “Want me to get you another drink?” he asks, steadying his thoughts and tilting his head innocently, hiding the rage he feels behind his dark irises.
A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, lip gloss glowing under the LEDs, as your eyes lazily make their way up to his. Reaching out a hand you ruffle his hair, placing a sticky kiss to his cheek. “You’re s’sweet Yuta,” you murmur against his skin, holding your glass out for him to take.
This would be sweet, if it wasn’t for the vile, traitorous perfume that suddenly overwhelms his senses. It’s too floral, too dry, too not you.
“Be right back,” he purrs, placing a kiss to the top of your head before stepping away, afraid that if he stayed any longer he would do something he regrets.
Besides, he can’t pass up this opportunity: he gets to show you he can take care of you, how much he adores you, and get rid of the chance that anyone thinks they know you like he does.
When he returns, you don’t even notice the weird taste in your drink; why would you? You trust him, like you should. When your body starts to feel too heavy, legs struggling to keep you up, you lean on him, like you should. When your head begins pounding and you just want to lay down, you let him take you home, like you should.
In the comfort of your apartment, one all too familiar to him, he helps you change into pajamas before bundling you up under the blankets of your bed. You look so sweet, so innocent, as your head rests against the pillow, eyelashes fluttering as you ease into sleep.
Your mind is cloudy as you rest, body still pulsing with each beat of your heart, suddenly sensing his weight shifting from where he sits at the end of your bed. “Yuta?” you whisper weakly.
He could melt just hearing you call his name, your voice like honey. “Yes?” he responds, turning his head over his shoulder to face you.
“Stay,” you murmur, reaching a hand out to him.
God, he could die happy right here. He could afford a few hours of sleeping next to you, right? It’s not like there’s any urgency now, he’s already lined everything up, now he just has to knock it down.
“Okay,” he breathes, getting under the covers next to you.
The warmth of your body envelops him as you lazily wrap your arms around his torso, uncoordinated motions to keep him, your one source of stability, close to you. Your thoughts are fuzzy as you fade into Yuta’s softness, letting him overtake your mind. Shifting his weight he leans into you, head resting on yours as you bury your face into his chest. He holds you against him, the scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair, a familiar one, a kind one.
He waits until your breathing slows, soft snores leaving your throat as you rest peacefully against him. Gingerly untangling his body from yours he rises, making his way to your bathroom. Sitting atop your counter is the target of his task: the sacrilegious bottle of perfume. It takes so little for him to knock it off the ledge, glass shattering as it hits the tile, the strong smell suddenly overwhelming the confined space, making his stomach turn as he pictures you in it. Never again.
He softly pads back to your bed, careful not to wake you as he rejoins your shared warmth under the comforter. Overwhelmingly pleased, his heart races as a contented grin spreads across his face.
When you question him about it the next morning, it’s easy to brush off.
“Yuta?” you question sleepily after you return from the bathroom, “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”
Normally the frown across your face would haunt him, tugging at his heartstrings to see you unhappy, but now it takes everything in him to not show his excitement. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “maybe you knocked it over last night?”
“Mmm, probably,” you hum, settling back in next to him as your head rests on his chest, hoping you don’t notice how his heart races at the contact, your mind still too foggy to realize you never even told him that the bottle broke. “Thanks for taking care of me last night. Sorry I got so drunk, I don’t know what happened.”
“Nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassures, his arms reaching around you, “I like taking care of you.”
“Thanks, Yu,” you murmur, nuzzling your head further into the softness of his t-shirt.
It’s so easy, he thinks. Everything with you is just that, easy: it’s easy to make you trust him, easy to look after you, easy to love you.
So when he sees you a few days later, eating lunch outside between classes, it’s easy for him to go over and sit next to you, the grass tickling his shins as he crosses his legs.
“Hi, Yuta,” you smile, your cheeks slightly rosy in the sun as you lean your head onto his shoulder.
Before he can respond, a familiar scent hits his nose, the one that is so, undeniably, you. “You smell good,” he blurts out, unable to contain his excitement.
A giggle escapes your lips at the sudden compliment, the sound soft and sweet. “Thanks,” you laugh, “it’s the perfume you got me, so I’m glad you still like it.”
“O-of course I do,” he stammers, “I picked it because it’s perfect for you.”
Looking up at him, you don’t miss the slight redness covering his face as his adoration for you begins to slip through the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is continue giggling, the most angelic sound in the world echoing in his mind, as he melts before you. “You’re too sweet, y’know that?” you ask.
Popping one of the cherries you brought for lunch into your mouth, a comfortable silence falls between you as Yuta continues staring at you in awe - how could you be so perfect? He has to stop himself from nearly drooling as he watches your tongue work the pit from the flesh of the fruit, the way your lips move absolutely tantalizing. He has to have you.
Sensing his gaze, you turn to face him. “Want one?” you ask politely, holding the bag out to him.
As you shift the richness of your perfume again wafts towards him in the breeze, tearing down any remaining walls of shame or embarrassment left encasing his feelings for you. Suddenly he leans forward, one hand going to the back of your neck as his lips crash into yours.
The kiss is messy, needy, as his tongue slides into your mouth. His body presses against yours, desperate for more of you, as you fall into the grass. His hands are everywhere, finally able to feel the one thing he’s been thinking about for years, as they roam your body.
Pulling away slightly, you breathlessly try to get his attention with a call of his name, but he doesn’t stop, only shifting his weight to kiss down your neck. Everything about you overwhelms his senses as he sucks against your skin, leaving a trail of bruises behind. His.
Your back arches off the ground as he moves lower, lips trailing kisses down your abdomen over your clothes as his palms grasp at your tits, your stomach, your ass, any part of you he can find, his touch hot. When he begins undoing the button to your shorts, a wave of panic overtakes you as you process what he wants.
“Y-Yuta,” you stutter, your hand reaching down to tilt his chin up, forcing him to face you. As he does, your face flushes at just how feral he looks, his pupils blown wide and lips parted as he pants expectantly.
“Please,” he whispers, “need to taste you,” his eyes moving back between your legs as he continues removing your shorts.
“B-but-” you begin, worried about the chance of being seen if someone were to walk past the small field you sat in, your gaze moving across the open space.
“There’s no one here,” he explains without looking up, sensing your nervousness. “I’ll make you feel s’good, I promise.”
Glancing around, you confirm the absence of any other students or professors, biting your lower lip nervously as you acquiesce.
Frankly, Yuta didn’t care if there was anyone around - once he started, he couldn’t stop.
He tugs your pants off, pausing only momentarily to admire the wet spot in your panties before pulling the flimsy material out of the way, his mouth attaching to your cunt. He moans as his tongue meets your folds, so much better than he could’ve imagined. The sound vibrating against your skin elicits a sharp gasp from you, your hands instinctively reaching down to his hair.
“Yuta,” you whine as his tongue glides up you.
God, he loves the way you say his name; he needs to hear it again.
His palms trace down your body to hold onto your thighs tightly, nearly leaving more bruises against your skin as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. Swirling around your clit he whines as your hips move up, desperate for more friction, his heart swelling at the idea that you need him just as badly as he needs you.
After years of loving you he knows just what to do, exactly how to move to make you feel good, his compendium of your body finally paying off. Slipping his tongue into you, another whimper escapes his throat as you moan his name. Bringing one hand down he roughly circles your clit with his thumb, using the exact pattern he’s seen you do more times than he could count, one he knows is guaranteed to bring you closer and closer and closer.
As your grip on his hair tightens, he knows it’s working.
His mind is flooded with you, your smell, your taste, your sounds, your everything. He loves it, he wants to crawl inside you and live in your heart forever, just like you’ve done with his. He wants to make a home in the corner of your mind, getting to see the most private and intimate thoughts you have that not even he could be privy to.
The only thing tethering him to reality is your soft voice calling his name, the most soothing rhythm in the world as your body begins to shake, heat building as you approach your release.
“Yuta,” you whimper, “m’close.”
Warmth spreads across his body, knowing he’s the one making you feel good, taking care of you, loving you, like nobody else ever could. His motions pick up, messily grinding his tongue against your cunt as you pull him into you. Everywhere he presses feels like flames, heat pricking over every inch of your body.
His name leaves your lips like a prayer as you come undone on his tongue, a series of whines reverberating against you from Yuta as he continues messily lapping you up, desperate for anything more you’re willing to give him.
When he finally pulls his face away from between your legs he’s immediately back on top of you, his lips pressing into yours with the same feral desire. His breath is hot against yours as you taste yourself on him, the entire thing overwhelming your mind as your body comes down from its high.
Pausing for only a moment, his eyes flutter open as he looks down at you, a gentle sheen of sweat across your features, grass surrounding your hair, cheeks a soft pink. Everything about you so, absolutely, undeniably perfect.
“Mine,” he whispers to himself, so quietly you nearly don’t catch it, before his lips are on yours again.
#q writes#oneshot#yuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuta#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x you#yuta okkotsu x y/n#yuta x you#yuta x y/n#yuta x reader#okkotsu x reader#okkotsu x y/n#okkotsu x you#jjk#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#cw yandere#cw drugging
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Lando proposing to you with “bless the broken roads”
bless the broken roads (LN4 x gn!Reader)
lando and you don’t think you’ll find someone. liar.
w/c: 1237
masterlist(read more)
a/n: I tried my best lol. I'm sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. Please correct me if you wanted something else!!
TW: one use of y/n
There was a running joke between Lando’s friends. “Lando will never find true love.”
After years of being single or chasing someone to no avail, Lando’s almost beginning to accept his curse. However, as much as he joked about it, he really wanted someone. He needed someone.
It was a death cycle. Lando would find someone, they’d lead him on, then down bad Lando would take over, then he’d take his chance and fail. Then after all that work, he would be pushed back onto his broken road.
He was beginning to accept that he was really never going to find someone.
But he never gave up. He kept searching.
------
You don’t know how long it was since you felt someone loved you romantically. You missed that feeling. Spending forever just finding someone who would love you back and then getting absolutely no fruit was tiring, it was exhausting.
You know when you finally find someone, you’d give them the world and shower them with all the love you had in you. You constantly tell yourself how there’s one grand plan for you to find the one person you’ve been longing for and all you have to do is wait.
Waiting for years isn’t easy.
You’re losing hope, walking along a broken road.
------
Lando and you met some time ago, but you two hit it off almost instantly. Both of you were made for each other, the chemistry was through the roof.
Lando never failed to make you laugh. Even on your darkest days Lando was like a beacon of light, a bundle of sunshine. He smiled a lot, which you admired whenever you could.
You never failed to make Lando feel appreciated, which Lando would never admit no matter what, but deep down you knew Lando loved that. You made time for Lando, and you stayed with him come hell or high water.
Life wasn’t easy for you. There were countless nights where you cried in his arms, you cried your eyes out with him, and you felt safe. You felt safe with Lando. There were sleepless nights where everything just got too much and right next to you was Lando, holding your hand, and that was all you needed. You felt safe with Lando.
Life wasn’t easy for Lando either. Sometimes his busy life got a little too hectic and chaotic, he’d come find you. Lando felt protected by you, although he’d never say. Sometimes people got too far and everything felt like a crumbling mess, he’d come find you. Lando felt protected. He wanted to be next to you, whenever, wherever you were.
Then one day, everything fell together, sort of. Lando asked you to be his “other half”. Long story short, you said yes and kissed him in the sunset.
------
It had become a common occurrence for you and Lando to lie down on empty grass fields or the rooftops and look up into the skies, to talk about your lives.
You open the door to the rooftop. Lando doesn’t usually do these a night before the race. A cold blast of wind blows against you as you walk out. Lando is just standing there, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, as he looks out into the city.
You walk over to Lando and slide your hand around his waist and he giggles as you do so.
“I like the sky tonight.” You say and Lando hums an approving ‘hm’.
“I like it too. Starry night.” Lando replies, shifting on the spot slightly.
“You know in the wilderness, people would use stars to guide them.” You say, pointing at some random stars.
Lando hums.
“Especially the North Star, because it lies above Earth’s North. So they used it to guide them.” You smile while saying it.
“Everyone else before you was like a North Star.” Lando speaks.
You turn to Lando, cocking up an eyebrow.
“They guided me to find you.” Lando clears his throat, smiling widely as he looks up into the sky while speaking.
“You’re adorable.” You reply which earns you an honest chuckle from Lando.
You shift closer to Lando and he does so too. Both of you stand next to each other, bodies touching. His warm hands slide out of his pockets and around your shoulder, it makes you feel comfortable despite the cold winds blowing against you.
“I used to dream of days like these.” Lando admits, his voice is soft and just for you to hear, “Never thought they’d come true.”
“I did too.” You chuckle.
“I thought they were lost dreams.” Lando continues, “But yet here you are.”
“Yea…” You take a deep breath, “Here we are… you’re the love of my life.”
Lando shifts even closer to you, pulling you into his embrace. The hug is tight and it lasts for a while, you hear Lando’s soft sobbing which he usually doesn’t do publicly.
“Are you okay?” You ask, voice laced with concern.
Lando takes a deep breath, clearing his throat, “There have been many people I’ve tried to love before you.”
You nod.
“None of them have been as good as you. I never thought I’d meet someone who understood me, but you came.” Lando takes another deep breath, “I honestly never thought there’d be someone for me…”
“Neither did I, honestly.” You chuckle as you place your hands on Lando’s shoulder.
“When I asked you to be the love of my life, I didn’t think you’d say yes.” Lando shuffles his feet and sniffles a little, “But you did and I could not be more grateful.”
You smile at Lando and he smiles a little too.
“My entire life has been like a broken road, filled with pitfalls and traps, loss and despair. All my life I’ve wanted to just be for someone, and now I have.” Lando takes a step back.
“y/n…”
“Lando…”
He reaches into his pocket before getting down on one knee. The backdrop of car honking and people chattering suddenly fades into silence and the stars shine brighter than ever. All the lights shine at him and you two are in the spotlight.
“I never want to live without you again. Will you marry me?”
The world around you freezes, all you see is Lando, on one knee, holding a ring in his hand, his eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.” You say softly.
“YES!” You repeat but louder, and admittedly, more cheerfully.
He slides the ring onto your ring finger and gets up. You take no time to rush into him, your arms swinging around him and pulling him in.
“I’ll make you the happiest person ever, I promise, all those years of finding love, I’ll give it to you and only you.” Lando says as he lifts you off the ground, planting a kiss on your lips.
It feels like forever on the rooftop before both of you walk back down to Lando’s room, holding each other’s hands.
It was nothing special, just both of you on a silent rooftop. To you, it was everything. Every single attempt to find someone who would love you back, every lost road that both of you set on, every heartbreak you two went through, all culminating in that few seconds.
You loved Lando. Lando loved you.
Both of your broken roads, leading right into each other’s.
Bless the broken roads that let both of you to each other’s arms.
#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#not beta read#lando norris x you#lando norris#lando x reader#mclaren#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris x y/n#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n#f1 fluff#fluff#ln4 fluff#proposal
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Wish you could see you through my eyes [rd]
Author’s note: Roommate!Rúben is finally here! I want to thank the anon who dropped this scenario in my inbox because this… changed my life forever 😭 I loved writing this one and I hope my girls enjoy it! Mwah
Warnings: hold tight because this one is intense!! MINORS DNI!! Masturbation, wet dreams, some dirty talk, protected sex (finally), oral sex, multiple orgasms. Let me know if I’m missing something!
wc: 7051 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
It’s been three weeks since you’ve moved into the new apartment you will be staying in while you’re at university. The house is small but perfect enough for you and your housemate. His name is Rúben, he told you he is Portuguese when he introduced himself at the welcome party in the beginning of the semester.
You had a house that you shared with two other girls, but since they started some drama with you, you were desperately looking for another place to stay.
“I have a spare room in my house, my old housemate already finished his degree and he moved out” - Rúben said after hearing your story while you’re telling it to some friends that you two had in common - them bringing Rúben along to your group of people. You didn’t have another option, really, so you accepted his offer.
He’s alright, he seems calm and hasn’t been pestering you too much since you moved in, so you’re thankful for that.
You noticed right away that night that he is very interesting in the looks department - silently thanking god to be able to look at him every single day, but you’re not really interested in starting something fiery with your housemate, not wanting that kind of drama inside the house that you will be living in for the next two years.
On the other side, Rúben finds you very interesting as well, his mind is already creating a thousand scenarios where you two could be together, doing some of the most devilish things that can come to his mind.
He doesn’t want to push it right away though, thinking about knowing you better first - completely enticed by you. That shouldn’t be difficult, since you’re both living under the same roof.
Rúben plays football for the university’s team. You can tell that he is very focused on his goals by the way you always see him in the kitchen cooking all his meals, preparing his entire weeks worth of food, instead of acting like the usual 19 year old that would just order some pizza if they didn’t feel like cooking.
You often try to avoid being in the same place as him for too long - feeling a little anxious by the way he looks so dominant and intimidating to you. He is tall, much taller than you obviously, and he uses his free time to work out, having a toned body that would make a lot of guys jealous.
Sometimes, you decide to study in the living room when you’re home alone. When Rúben arrives, you feel the need to immediately pick up your books and go back to your room. He’s nice to you, he’s soft spoken and has a light smile on his face, but you would rather not get too close to him.
You feel small and intimidated by the way he looks at you, feeling like he could set you on fire, your cheeks burning every time you feel his eyes on you.
But you know he’s a caring guy, you can’t forget the way he helped you when you were desperately searching for a place to live, that alone has made you feel eternally grateful to him.
But it’s not just that. It’s the way he’s softly knocking on your room door now, pulling you out of your thoughts and studies. The door slowly opens, and your face turns into a smile once you see his face poking in.
“Sorry to disturb your peace” - he says with a shy smile. “I just thought I could invite you to come have dinner with me in the living room? We could watch a nice movie to get a break from all the studying.”
You look at him, like you’re trying to understand why would he invite you to that.
“I noticed you’ve been here for hours now, too focused studying, and you haven’t eaten yet. Plus I’ve been cooking so maybe I thought you could have a bite? Only if you want to, of course” - he looks at you like he’s begging you to accept his offer.
You smile at him. “What movie are we watching?” - you ask and Rúben lets out a breath that he didn’t knew he was holding.
And that’s how it started. You and Rúben had a routine now: you would have dinner together every night and watch a movie after. That was the only way Rúben found to spend more time with you. He loved hearing you laugh when you were watching comedies, the way you would always ask him a million questions when you were confused about the movie, and how you looked so adorable when you were scared of horror movies. The last one really making him want to hug you tight and cuddle you so he could make you feel safe and protected in his arms.
You’ve started to open up around him more as well, letting your bubbly personality show. You too got used to having his presence around, feeling sad when his football practice would run late and he couldn’t make it in time for dinner and movie night.
At the same time, Rúben didn’t look at you in a normal housemate-type-of-way. Neither did you. The sexual tension was noticeable near the both of you, but you just played pretend, believing that it was all in your head.
Until there’s one night, when you’re in your room studying - after having movie night with your housemate. Everything seemed quiet, little noise could be heard, mainly coming from the street, since your window was open. You kept writing down your notes, until you heard an unusual sound. You froze in place, trying to understand what kind of noise it was and where it came from. Sounds like… a moan? And it sounds like it comes from Rúben’s bedroom - being right next to yours.
You can’t help but blush while you imagine him in such an amended state that he didn’t even notice how loud the moan he'd let escape was.
You start thinking about how thin the walls in your apartment actually are, and remind yourself to be careful while making any type of noise, while you put your headphones on, so you can stop listening to Rúben while he is clearly having “a moment”.
You try not to overthink the sound that you heard coming from him. He’s a boy, after all, you shouldn’t be surprised to know that he was jerking himself off. But that changed the way you saw Rúben.
The next morning, you were having breakfast when you saw your housemate going to the bathroom, ready to take a shower as he took a towel with him.
The water starts running and you notice that he didn’t turn the water heater on. Why was he taking a cold shower?
You wait until he gets out of the bathroom, your eyes immediately glue to the water drops, slowly diving through his toned abs when he comes into vision. The towel was wrapped around his hips, and you can’t help but wonder what would happen if it accidentally fell to the floor.
“You’re staring, you know?” - he laughs cockily, taking you out of your trance.
Your cheeks immediately turn bright red, feeling so embarrassed by that moment.
“Why were you taking a cold shower?” - you ask back with an eyebrow raised at him, erasing the smug smile from his face.
“Oh-” - he stuttered a bit. “You know, it’s good for the muscles and all. Need to be careful, we have an important game coming up” - he told you, unsure of himself and definitely not convincing you.
After that, you take notice of Rúben’s behavior in your shared house, and around you.
You start noticing the times his hand would immediately go to his bulge, when you two were having a movie night. The way he would immediately close his legs when you would get closer to him on the sofa.
When the movie ends, he always goes to his room, and it gets very silent. It’s always unusual when his room is so silent: he is always listening to music, watching some videos, playing games, you name it. It’s only truly silent when he’s asleep, but yet… his light is still on.
It’s always the same routine: dinner, movie, Rúben goes to his room, absolute silence, and after a while, he gets out of his room, goes to the bathroom for a bit and comes back to his room to actually turn the light off and fall asleep, after sending you a good night text - not wanting to knock on your door in case you were already sleeping.
Rúben is unaware that you've noticed his routine. When he goes back to his room, it’s only him and his brain. The way you’re always plastered on the front of his head, the only thing he can think about all day, it was driving him insane. He lays in bed and thinks about how good your touch feels on his arms when you touch him. It’s an innocent and harmless touch, but he can’t stop thinking about how good it would feel on his entire body. He feels goosebumps on his skin when your delicate fingers touch him in such a light way. He loves being close to you, he loves how soft your hair feels on his arm when you lay your head on the sofa, next to his shoulder. He wants to touch you, to feel you.
All these thoughts wrap his head in a knot, and the only thing he can do is feel himself through his shorts.
His hand travels from his abs to his bulge, already growing at the thought of you. He massages his dick through his boxers, lowly whining at the feeling. After teasing himself for a bit, he pushes his underwear down, letting his hard dick spring free from his tight clothes.
He feels how hard he is, how fucked up you have his mind - and how unaware you are of it.
You turn him on. Everything you do. The way you look at him with your eyebrow raised, the way you roll your eyes at his cockiness, the way you laugh at his jokes. The way you make him lose his mind when you appear in the middle of the living room in the morning, looking so beautiful even after waking up, with your pyjamas. He loves the way your pyjama shorts hug your waist, embody your ass and allow your legs to be in full display for him. He loves it. He loves looking at you, he’s always daydreaming about you. He fantasizes about you all the time, he imagines how it would be if you were in his bed with him, right now. How would you react if you saw him touching himself, his cock painfully hard because of you.
His hand is wrapped tightly around his dick, thrusting up and down in a slow motion, not wanting to rush the film that’s going through his head right now. Picturing you doing all kinds of dirty and devilish things with him, thinking about your lips wrapped around his dick while his mouth would devour your pussy, giving you the best hard yet passionate sex you could ever have. His other hand travels behind his neck, helping him get more comfortable as his head is now thrown back, his eyes still shut - dreaming about you. His breath turns erratic as he starts pumping himself harder and faster now, like he is pumping life into his veins and he can’t stop. He growls as he pictures you on top of him, straddling him and jumping on his dick - oh, how he wishes that dream would become reality.
He tries his best not to moan loud at the feeling he’s giving himself and the obscene thoughts he’s having. His mind rushes, silently praying that you would walk through the door and help him chase his orgasm. But just knowing that you’re on the door next to his room, is enough to make his stomach swirl, feeling dirty by doing it while he’s thinking about you, without you even dreaming about it.
He sustains a moan as his hand speeds up, anxious to cum. He finally breathes out when he feels the bubble in his stomach burst. He cums in his stomach, disappointed that he didn’t get to cum anywhere on your body, like he wishes so badly. He grabs a towel and cleans himself before going to the bathroom and quickly showers to get rid of the dirtiness he made - he wishes he could get rid of the thoughts surrounding his head, but that won’t go away with any shower.
He goes to bed, as he feels lighter after hitting his high and falls asleep in a few minutes.
But his mind is always playing tricks on him, even when he is sleeping.
There’s an image splattered on his mind, dreaming about going out with you - on a proper date. You look so beautiful in his dream, wearing a red dress that is making him feel things already. Rúben starts moving on the bed, his waist searching for you, for the way you’re sitting on his lap in his dream. He starts breathing heavily as he pictures you two making out in such a dirty way. He needs that feeling, he desperately can’t wait to put his mouth on you, needing to taste you, to feel you, to devour you.
His dream proceeds, and now you take a seat on his face, gripping on his hair as he eats you out like he’s starving for you. His mind recreates the sound of your moans - how he thinks you would sound like. He feels hot while he’s still in a deep sleep, not wanting to wake up and ruin the scenario. His hands are all over you, holding you still as his tongue plays with your wet pussy. You reach out and start stroking his hard dick before putting him on your mouth. You lay your body on his, completely 69ing each other. He takes the opportunity and slaps your ass - now in full view in front of his eyes.
The feeling he’s having is too much to bear, his dream looking so real right now that it could drive him insane. He wakes up with his alarm ringing - it’s 8 am already. He’s sweaty and hot from the nasty dream he just had. He tries to compose himself, breathing in and out, when his hand goes to his bulge and he gets a sticky sensation. He came in his boxers, during the night - the movie playing in his head being too much for him to hold it in. He sighs, ashamed that he actually had a wet dream like he was still a teenager.
He goes to the shower, his mind still thinking of all the dirty things you two could do together. You’re in the kitchen having breakfast, he saw you before entering the bathroom, so he can’t feed those thoughts any more right now. He needs to get them out of his mind, and his growing dick needs to calm down. So, he decides to take a cold shower, hoping that would ease his heartbeat too.
His days have been like this, it has become a routine already. He’s been having wet dreams with you nearly every night, even after he masturbates before going to sleep. It’s actually driving him insane, but he doesn’t feel brave enough to tell you, to hit on you - he would do it to any other girl, but not to you. You’re different and he feels that in his chest. He doesn’t want to just get you in his bed. He wants you, entirely. He’s falling for you.
“Are you planning on going to Jack’s party tonight?” - you ask Rúben while you two are having lunch together, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I think me and boys will show up” - he informs you. “What about you?”
“Me and the girls are going too” - you say with a smirk. - “I’m going to start getting ready after we eat.”
Rúben’s face shows a confused expression now. “Y/N? It’s 1pm. You know the party only starts at 10pm, right?” - he confirms.
“Duh, of course I know that. But I want to look good, and perfection takes time” - you laugh.
“You always look great, you don’t need much” - he confesses, being completely honest with you.
“Yeah but I want to look my best, who knows, I might find a hot guy at the party” - Rúben’s face falls when he hears your words. Yeah, find a cute guy to make out with - one that is not him.
He doesn’t respond and you look at him - trying to read him.
“Hey? What’s up with you? You went mute out of nowhere?” - you question.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just thinking of all the studying I still have to do before the party” - he lies.
You smile at him. “Don’t worry, I bet you’ll find a cute girl too. Maybe someone who studies business too, so you two can have private study sessions and all” - you giggle and Rúben just fakes a smile.
He doesn’t want a girl who studies business, like him. He wants a girl who studies law, who's perfectly balanced, has the beauty and the brains he’s looking for. He didn’t have to search much to find her, since she lives in his house. He just wants you. He's never seen you act like this - you were never the kind of girl to go out every single night, matching Rúben in that matter. You two would only go out once in a while, but he never saw you talking about finding a guy to make out with. You are an extrovert and he loves your bubbly personality, you are always honest with yourself and the others and you always say what’s going on in your mind and in your heart.
His heart drops and his chest hurts, thinking about how oblivious you are of his feelings towards you. It’s not your fault, obviously, he doesn’t have the nerve to confess his love for you and that’s all on him. He feels down for the rest of the afternoon, trying his best to focus on studying, but he just feels so disappointed at himself, for not having the courage to ask you out. He can’t bear the thought of you making out with some other dude, so he just prays that you two would go different ways in the party, and not see each other again until you get home.
While you were choosing the perfect outfit to go out, you called your best friend. She keeps insisting that Rúben is a hot dude and that you should enjoy the time you spend alone with him at home more.
“Is Rúben your pair for tonight’s party? Are you two gonna dance with your bodies glued to each other?” - your friend asks on the other side of the line, you know she really means it.
“Of course not. He will be with his friends and I will be with you girls. Plus, I already told you that I don’t think that messing with him is a good idea. We live together and I don’t want to lose my room again” - you try to reason with her.
“What if you mess with him and things turn out alright? You’d still lose your room, only to move in to his own” - your best friend really tries to convince you that having sex with your housemate is actually a good idea.
“Girl, that’s not even a thing. Nuh uh, that won’t happen” - you firmly decline.
“Just admit that you fancy him, please! This is getting tiring already” - she notes.
After some moments of silence, you decide to give in. “Of course I think he’s crazy hot, I have two eyes on my face that see him walking around the house wearing only some shorts” - you remember. “But I think he fancies someone else. I’ve heard him moaning once, he was probably touching himself… and I’ve noticed that his routine has been a little strange lately” - you continue speaking on the phone.
“Oh my god! Hearing your housemate touching himself is actually insane! God he’s so fucking hot Y/N, I would die to hear him moaning” - your friend loses herself in her dialogue, too focused on picturing Rúben in the scenario that you just described to her.
“Babe, just stop, please. I literally just told you that I think he likes someone else” - you answer, your mood drowning a bit by imagining him with another girl.
“How do you know that, bitch? He’s probably jerking himself off to the thought of you, duh! You’re beautiful as fuck and you’re working your ass off to become a successful lawyer, you have the beauty and brains bestie, I would be surprised if that man didn’t fall for you” - she calls you out, and her words echo in your head.
Could there be a small chance of Rúben fancying you? Your heartbeat accelerates by just thinking of it, you don’t have the courage to face the guy who you share your house with, and confess how hot you think he is, and how much it tortures you to see him walking through the house with just a towel wrapped around his waist. There’s no way you can actually do that, so you would rather just find a random guy that seems decent enough for you to flirt with him and get some action, even if it’s just some kisses.
You asked Rúben if he could wait for you to keep you company on the way to the party, not really feeling like walking in the middle of the night all by yourself. He can’t say no to you, so he was in the living room waiting for you, and his jaw dropped when he saw you. You looked so gorgeous, wearing a red dress like the one he saw you with in his dreams - could this be a sign or something? Rúben doesn’t believe in any of that, so he just shrugs his thoughts away, and looks at how beautiful you look.
“You look stunning” - he says with a shy smile.
You smile back at him. “You look hot as well. I bet hundreds of girls will beg you to get in their pants” - you laugh, trying to hide your feelings and Rúben doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just talks about how you two should get going.
Once you two arrive at the party, you and Rúben split, you decide to go meet your girls while Rúben joins his football team members.
Through the night, both you and Rúben act similar, even if you’re not by each other’s side. The two of you decide to have some drinks to cool down from the anxiety forming in your stomachs.
You feel anxious so you try to have some fun and really find a cute guy who could make out with you for a while. You don’t go out every weekend, but now you feel needy and desperate to take some risks.
Rúben feels anxious because he knows what you’re looking for tonight. And it pains him that he’s not the guy you’re looking for. You could have him, all of him. He would do anything for you, he would never turn you down, and yet, he’s not the one you’re looking for.
You both take a couple rounds of shots with your friends, mixing beer with other drinks that you don’t ever know what they actually are.
When Rúben decides to go back to the bar to grab another drink, he freezes at the sight in front of him. He catches you kissing a random guy he’s never seen in his life, his hands driving through your hips, getting dangerously next to your ass, while his tongue is entirely inside your mouth.
He feels his blood boiling right now, closing his firsts in a ball, clenching his jaw, unable to control his anger at what he’s watching. He turns out and exits the party, leaving you behind with your newfound “friend” and your activities.
Rúben gets home quickly, his feet moving fast by the way his anger is fuelling his entire body now. He knew damn well that you were trying to find a fling at that fucking party, the only thing he silently begged was for you to spare him, so he didn’t have to see you with another guy that wasn’t himself.
He enters his room, slamming the door behind him, trying to find a way to alleviate the strong feeling in his chest.
He is sad, disappointed and he hates what he saw. Rúben is a possessive guy, and jealousy is all he can feel right now, wanting to punch that prick's face. It should be him that you were kissing, not a random dude.
His breathing itches when his mind starts making up scenarios of potential things that could happen once you get home. Would you go to his room, searching for him? Maybe you would tell him how much you regret kissing that boy. Maybe you two would finally confess your feelings to each other? Rúben feels so jealous now that he just wants to show you how he could be everything you need and more. He wants you to regret kissing another boy when you could have kissed him instead all this time.
He goes back to his routine, maybe having a release would help him remove all the tension on his body right now. He lays on his bed, taking deep breaths as his bulge is already aching in his pants. He quickly removes his clothes, not in the mood to take it nice and slow. He’s angry, jealous, fuming at the thought of you with someone else.
He anxiously touches himself, already feeling the protruding veins in his cock and stroking himself fast, imagining how sex would feel like if he was punishing you after what you did. How you would moan and sigh when he would fill you up, roaming inside of you, feeling your wet and warm pussy around his cock, your juices mixing up with his already.
His hand works fast and hard on his dick, he doesn’t control himself as he starts moaning loudly at the feeling - he was sure that he was home alone, you would probably still be at that stupid party, or even in that guy’s bed already.
His mind went blank at how excruciatingly hard his dick is in his hand, precum already dripping down his shaft.
You walk inside the house, stumbling a bit on your own feet, feeling a little tipsy because of the few drinks you had at the party. Your chest feels heavy, you truly feel guilty after kissing a random guy while Rúben was the only one in your mind all the time. You should have gained the courage to talk to him, to shoot your shot. When you realized that he had already left the party, you immediately went home to find Rúben - praying that he actually decided to go home.
But he doesn’t hear the door open, too lost in his thoughts and sounds, absolutely enticed by his moment. You walk inside the house and hear him moaning - your heart sinking at the thought of him actually having another girl over.
You carefully walk through the corridor, getting closer to his bedroom door. His sounds get louder and more consistent, and you stop next to his door, trying to understand if he’s alone or with someone else.
The way you only hear Rúben moaning and breathing heavily, makes you realise that he’s alone - probably touching himself like crazy. The thought of being so close to him while he’s jerking off is enough to make your legs weak, already feel your pussy throbbing at how erotic he sounds. The alcohol in your blood was already making you feel brave enough to talk to him about how you feel, but hearing him groaning at the way he’s touching himself… that is definitely making you desire him like crazy. You need him, you want him, and you’re going to shoot your shot.
You decide to open the door to his bedroom, your hand shaking as you turn the handle open. Your eyes land on Rúben, sprawled on his bed, with his hand tightly wrapped around his hard cock. He stops stroking his dick momentarily when he sees you, his mouth slightly agape, shocked and slightly embarrassed that you’re in his room, seeing him like this. But he’s also feeling brave tonight, and he starts stroking his dick again while he makes eye contact with you.
You share a look in silence, eye fucking each other at this point. His hand doesn’t stop moving in his dick, but it starts slowing down when you walk closer to him.
“I was looking for you” - you breathe out.
“Oh yeah? Did your friend turn you down after shoving his tongue in your throat?” - he answers bitterly.
“No… I just wish it was your tongue exploring my mouth, instead of his” - you confess while sitting in his bed next to him.
You could see the sparks in his eyes igniting at your words, and he stays silent, trying to think of the right thing to say.
Your index finger carefully travels through your bodies, sliding up his dick, gathering his juices in your tip. You open your mouth, placing your finger inside and sucking on it, tasting how Rúben feels hot and sweet at the same time.
He groans at the sight in front of him and completely loses it. He grabs your face and finally kisses you hard and passionately, his tongue now fighting for dominance with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth - like he was supposed to all along.
You move so you’re now straddling him, your dress already pulled up, while Rúben’s hands discover your body. You can’t stop kissing each other, needing the other one so badly, making out in a dirty and raw way, with saliva already dripping down your chin. You moan into his mouth as you grind your hips on his dick, the thin fabric of your panties being the only thing separating you two right now.
He pulls your dress off of your body, admiring you and kissing every inch of skin that his lips could find as his hands keep travelling your body. He looks at you shocked when his lips find your boobs and he realizes you have a nipple piercing - something he never even imagined you could have, and it’s doing wonders to his mind. You smirk at his reaction and pull his head between your tits more, encouraging him to play with the metal piece between your nipple.
His mouth wraps around your nipple, sucking on it while his tongue draws circles around it. Rúben is desperate to touch you, he needs to feel you, he needs to make sure that you are real, that you are really here with him, naked in his bed like he’s been dreaming all this time.
“Do you know for how long I have been dreaming about this?” - he says, breathless from all the kissing.
“Oh, is that right?” - you say seductively, as you keep moving your core against his hard dick.
“Fuck, I’ve been dying to kiss you since I first met you. I’ve been having these fucking wet dreams about touching you like I some horny teenager. I want you so badly, Y/N” - he confesses, his hands secured on your hips.
“Oh, yeah?” - you say as you get up from your spot on his lap.
You take off your panties slowly, without never breaking eye contact with Rúben, putting on a show for him.
He looks at you hungrily, like he’s already devouring you in his mind.
“Let me give you a taste of what you’ve been missing, baby boy” - you say as you sit on his face.
Rúben’s tongue is already working you, licking your folds like a cat. Your hand immediately wraps into his hair, as the other goes to help you hold yourself up against the headboard. You moan at the vibrations his mouth sends through your body, unable to control your sounds.
You grind your pussy on his face, completely riding his mouth now, and you moan breathlessly at the way his tongue devours you as his nose keeps hitting your clit on purpose, making you shake with a crazy amount of pleasure.
You notice Rúben’s reaction to your moans, as his hand leaves your hip and wraps around his dick, still painfully hard from being so turned on and not getting a release. He starts pumping himself while he eats you out, you look back to see the sight and moan at the view. You can’t stop thinking about how you two look like a recreation of a movie, looking so erotic and needy for each other.
His lips wrap around your clit now, sucking on it and making you scream out of pleasure. The way he’s devouring your cunt makes it almost unbearable for you to hold your orgasm inside, and seeing the way he is touching himself like crazy to you, makes the bubble on your stomach burst. You cum on his face, riding him more to chase your high, the feeling he’s providing you being unmatched to anything you’ve felt before. Rúben moans underneath you, his mouth still on your pussy, collecting all your juices in his mouth, tasting you entirely. His hand speeds up and he cums some minutes after as well, groaning at the feeling of finally having a release. You get up from your seat on his face, allowing him to breathe properly now, his nose, mouth and chin drenched in your cum. The sight of Rúben lying under you, still tasting your juices and his stomach dirty with his own cum, was enough to make your cunt throb again, wanting to feel him more.
“You taste insanely delicious” - Rúben says in a hazy state, completely high off you.
“Better than in your dreams?” - you tease him with a smirk.
“Fuck, way better. I can’t believe this is actually real” - he laughs, still trying to catch his breath.
“I need to feel you, Ruby” - you say in a needy voice, using his favorite pet name that he told you about in one of your conversations.
He takes a condom out of his bedside table, kissing you again passionately as he wraps it on his dick - already hard again, you being an absolute menace to his libido. Rúben lays you on the bed, towering over you now, as he looks at you with love and fire in his eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly next to you while you wrap your legs around his hips. He kisses you sweetly and carefully before slowly entering you. You both moan into each other’s mouth, still kissing with your bodies glued now.
He thrusts slowly into you, wanting to take his time and enjoy all the feelings he’s getting from this moment with you.
You moan when he fills you up nicely and easily, not really believing this is happening either.
“You feel so good, baby, fuck” - he groans into your ear as his mouth is now leaving kisses on your neck. You pet his hair gently, not really having words to describe the energy and the connection between you and your housemate.
“I need more, Rubes, please” - you beg him to go faster, needing to cum again on his dick now.
Your wish is his command, he could never say no to you. He picks up the pace, going faster inside of you right now, leaving open mouth kisses on your nipple again - the piercing still driving him insane.
“Fuck, you’re so good Rubes, you fuck me so good” - you breathe while your nails scratch his back at the sensations he’s providing you.
The sounds coming from your wet pussy fill the room, along with the moans and heavy breaths that you two share.
Rúben feels your walls clenching around him, and his thumb goes to play with your swollen clit, his dick now roaming inside of your cunt, desperate to cum again too.
He could lose all his composure just by listening to your sounds, going crazy at the way you feel so wet and warm, your cunt desperately wrapping around his dick. Plus, you look so beautiful to him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head out of pleasure, while he hears you moaning so erotically and whispering incoherent words, completely fucked out of your mind. He loves knowing that he’s the one making you feel like this, giving you this much pleasure. He can’t stop feeling cocky at the way his girl is sprawled on his bed, begging him to fuck her harder and faster so she can cum on his cock.
His thumb doesn’t stop bullying your puffy clit and you can’t hold it any longer.
“I’m not gonna last, Rub-“ - you cry out, the pleasure being unbearable right now.
“Cum for me, baby girl. Cum on my cock, I need to feel you cumming around me” - the dirty talk could send you straight to heaven.
And your body obeys. You cum, moaning his name over and over again, your pussy pulsating around his dick, encouraging him to cum as well. After a few more strokes, Rúben fills his condom with his seed, breathing heavily at the feeling you both just shared. He collapses on top of you, his head now buried on your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your skin as you both try to catch your breaths.
You hug him tightly, not really know what to say, and you both stay like this, enjoying each other’s touch. Soon, you both fall asleep, the alcohol in both of your blood and the tiredness from the previous events knocking the two of you out in a matter of minutes.
The next morning, you wake up wrapped in Rúben’s arms. You feel safe, protected, it feels right. The sun is shining, warming up your face and Rúben slightly moves in his place, pulling you closer to him.
“Good morning” - he says in his deep morning voice.
“Hey” - you say back with a smile. He kisses your shoulder while hiding his face in your neck, taking in your scent, not believing that last night was real, not wanting to let you go out of his embrace.
You turn around so you’re facing him now. The two of you giggle at each other like true teenagers who just fell in love.
His hand goes to caress your cheek sweetly, looking at you with all the love in the world.
“Hope you don’t regret last night” - he says honestly.
“The only thing I regret from last night is kissing another random guy, instead of kissing you earlier” - you confess with a smirk on your lips.
He laughs softly at your words.
“How could I regret anything? Really, I only regret not knocking on your door sooner… I’ve been thinking about you a lot for the past weeks” - you continue speaking.
“Well, guess we can say that I’ve literally been dreaming about you a lot” - he says with a laugh, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red now.
“I had a dream of us going out on a cute date” - you tell him, reaching out to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.
“Really?” - he looks surprised that you’ve been feeling the same way as him for the last couple of weeks. “I guess I should turn that dream into reality, then” - he kisses your hand lovingly.
“I would love that… I’ve been trying to shut my feelings out for you, I didn’t want to mess with my housemate and end up without a place to sleep, again” - you confess.
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen” - he says with a soft smile. “I’ve been hypnotized by you since the first time I saw you, Y/N… it’s been killing me to drown in my feelings all the time because I didn’t have the courage to confess how I felt towards you. I am in love with you, I really am. I think you’re the most beautiful, caring, funny and intelligent girl I’ve ever met. We get along so well that I can’t stop thinking about how I want this forever. I want our movie nights forever, I want to take on cute dates, I wanna share this house with you without having to hide away from you, literally when I have a boner because of you, or emotionally when I feel jealous or like choking on my feelings because I wanted to blurt them out and I couldn’t. I don’t wanna hide anymore. This is me, with my good parts and my bad parts as well, and there's nothing more I want than for you to take me as I am. Because I for sure will take you as you are, through the good and the bad, I want to have you by my side forever, as I promise you to always be by your side as well” - he breathes after finally letting his feelings show.
You smile widely and kiss him once again.
“It’s hard not to fall for you, Rubes, I wish you could see you through my eyes” - you kiss him again, unable to stop. You can’t believe you have Rúben all to yourself.
You two start making out again, smirking at each other and giggling between kisses.
“I just hope you want more amazing sex like the one we had yesterday” - you wink at him as your hand is already palming his dick, hungry for him once again.
“You’re gonna be the death of me” - he sighs as you two wrap yourselves between Rúben’s bed sheets again, truly on cloud nine from finding out that love can actually be closer than you think. In this case, it was under the same roof, right next door.
#ruben dias#ruben dias x you#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias smut#ruben dias fanfiction#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#roommate!rúben
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3.3 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brunch, toxic plants.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Your coworkers warned you about the history of the Winter Soldier.
A/N: Time for Brunch!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Bucky held the diner door open, allowing Lily to walk in first. It was a sort of tradition of theirs– brunch every other Saturday at Melinda’s, a cute little cafe about a twenty minute drive from the Compound– that they’d been doing for years now.
“I’m so glad to finally be spending some time together,” Lily said as she slid into their usual booth by the window. “I feel like it’s been ages.”
Bucky chuckled as he picked up his menu– not like he didn’t already know exactly what he was going to get: a black coffee, scrambled eggs with sausage and bacon, a plate of home fries, and a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes. “Lil, we hung out last night,” he told her.
“Last night doesn’t count,” she pouted, picking up a sugar packet from the little ceramic container on the table and beginning to play with it.
Bucky put down the menu. “Why not?” he asked.
Before she could answer him, the waitress came to take their order. Bucky liked her– Mya; she was always friendly and put an extra pancake on the pile for him, free of charge.
“Hey there, Buck,” she greeted warmly, “Lily. Good to see you two again.”
“Hey, Mya,” Bucky replied with a dazzling smile. “How are you this morning? How’s Frankie?” Mya was a single mother, working two jobs, so Bucky always made sure to tip well and inquire about her son.
“He’s good, Buck; thanks for asking. He really appreciates the autographed Avengers picture you got for him; brought it to school for Show & Tell and everything.”
Bucky laughed good naturedly. “My pleasure,” he said. “They always make us take those dumb publicity photos; figured something good should come outta them.”
“Well, he’s very grateful, all the same,” she said with a grin. “How are–”
“I’ll take a Cobb salad, no bacon, dressing on the side, and a Diet Sprite. Thank you,” Lily interjected, smile tight.
Mya blinked a few times before replying “Yeah, sure, absolutely,” as if she hadn’t just been interrupted. She turned to Bucky. “The usual for you, Buck?” she asked.
“Yeah, please. Thanks, Mya.” Mya took their menus and, promising their food would be right out, walked away. Bucky followed her with his eyes to make sure she was well out of earshot before he turned back to Lily. “What the hell, Lil?” he asked her.
“What?” she asked, seemingly nonchalantly. “I’m hungry.”
“So, you couldn’t wait five seconds for her to finish speaking?” he asked accusingly.
“Hey, she gets paid to serve, not to flirt,” Lily snapped.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he leaned back. “You always think everyone’s flirting with me. We were just talking about her kid. What is with you today?”
Lily sighed and looked up at him, blue eyes turning sad. “I’m sorry– I’m just tired. I told you, I didn’t sleep well last night, and it’s making me cranky. Don’t be too mad at me, okay, Jamie?” She smiled and reached her hand across the table to grab his. “It’s your fault, after all.” She winked at him.
Bucky smiled and squeezed her hand. “I told you I was sorry,” he said. “And now I’m making it up to you by buying you brunch. Gotta take care of my best girl, right?” Lily beamed at him.
“Right,�� she agreed with a nod. “Hey, just out of curiosity, where did you end up staying last night? Did you go back to the Tower?” Though Tony Stark had moved the Avengers operation to the Compound Upstate, he still utilized the Tower for Stark Industries, and kept apartments available there for the team to use if they found themselves in the city overnight.
Bucky pulled his hand back from hers and scratched the back of his neck. Lily squinted her eyes at him, and he knew he’d just revealed a sure tell that he’d done something she’d not be pleased with.
“Oh my god, Bucky,” Lily said angrily. “Do not tell me you stayed the night with Nat’s friend.” The way she said ‘friend,’ with her voice getting incredibly shrill at the end, had Bucky inwardly cringing.
“Well, by the time I got her back to her place,” Bucky defended, “it was already pouring. Wouldn’t’ve been safe for me to head back in those conditions.”
Lily seemed to be mulling over his words. “I guess,” she said, after a moment. “So, what? You sleep on the couch?”
For some reason, Bucky couldn’t get the words out to tell his best friend the truth– that, no, he hadn’t slept on Major’s couch. In fact, he’d slept on her bed, but it didn’t really count, because the two of them had hardly done any sleeping at all. Instead, he just brought his coffee cup to his lips, took a long sip, and nodded.
“Good,” said Lily, seeming satisfied with his answer. “I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with her. She was a total bitch.”
Bucky frowned. He realized that the interaction between Major and Lily last night had been… tense, but he fully hadn’t expected that she would call Major a bitch and tell him she didn’t want him to spend time with her. “She was just defending herself, Lil,” he said cautiously. “You were kinda out of line with that anti-girly stuff.”
Lily gave him a wounded look. “I cannot believe you would take the side of a complete stranger over your own best friend,” she said, looking affronted. “She was incredibly rude to me.”
Mya returned then with their meals, and Bucky waited until she had walked away before continuing: “I’m not siding with anyone. I just think you should take into consideration that you were rude to her, first, Lil. She was acting defensive because you put her on the defensive.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Lily crossed her arms, pouting.
“Lil, doesn’t it bother you that you don’t have any female friends?” he asked carefully.
She scoffed. “What do I need female friends for?” she asked. “They just wanna talk about stupid girl shit and it’s dull and boring. Besides, I have you. I don’t need other friends.”
It struck Bucky then how very sad that seemed. Sure, he didn’t have many friends, himself; just Steve, Lily, Sam, and the team, but he was a 100-plus year old, formerly brainwashed, ex-assassin with PTSD and a list of issues a mile long, so it was to be expected. But Lily? Surely a young, vibrant person like her should be hanging with more people than just him?
“This was what Major was talking about,” Bucky said gently, choosing to ignore his observation for the time being. “You can think feminine things are dull, and boring, but it’s not fair of you to consider them stupid just because you don’t enjoy them. And it’s definitely not cool of you to look down on people who do.”
To Bucky’s dismay, Lily’s bottom lip began to tremble, and he feared she was going to start crying. “Why are you mad at me?” she pouted.
Bucky felt his facial features soften as he looked at her. “I’m not mad at you, Lil. I just think that, maybe, you should reconsider your stance on some things, that’s all.”
Lily seemed to consider his words for a moment, before she broke out into a giant grin. “Okay, Jamie,” she said, digging back into her Cobb salad. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do better.”
Well, Bucky thought, that went better than expected.
They ate companionably for a while after that, sharing small talk and enjoying each other’s company. When it came time to leave, Bucky paid the bill, making sure to leave a little extra for Mya to make up for Lily’s earlier rudeness.
As they were walking out, Lily interlocked her arm with his. “Do you want to do a movie night at my place tonight?” she asked. Since Lily was a member of SHIELD, and not an Avenger proper, she didn’t have an apartment at the Compound. Instead, like most of the other agents who were based there, she had a place of her own in town. Usually, Bucky relished spending time at her place, where it was quiet and far less crowded.
But then Bucky remembered he’d asked Major out to dinner for this evening. “Shit, Lil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. “I can’t tonight; I’m sorry.”
“What, you abandoning me for a hot date or something?” The words were phrased as a joke, but there was an edge to her voice that told Bucky she was genuinely afraid that was why he was saying no.
He let out a forced laugh. “Of course not,” he said, immediately wondering why he was lying to her. “I just, uh, promised Sam we’d do a guys’ night. You know how he gets if he thinks people aren’t paying enough attention to him.”
Lily scoffed. “He’s such a fucking drama queen,” she said.
“Heh, yeah.” Bucky sent out a silent apology to both Major and Sam for the lie, and hoped he could get Sam to back him up on it. He had told Bucky he’d be his wingman when it came to Major, after all.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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massage | dr ratio blurb
1.5k words about giving ratio a massage because you're his partner and you love him. that's it. that's the post. there's nothing else i can say about that. purely self indulgent sweetness there's nothing else for me to add. reader is gender neutral, and referred to by him and themselves as veritas' partner. i wrote wayyy too much about such a simple concept but what are you gonna do ? lock me up ? i dare you.
you knew how veritas liked to wind down for the night. after a few years being married to him, you've figured out the routine by now. you can tell he's starting to get tired when he sits his book down and nods off a little in his chair. you have to gently shake him awake, or call out to him a few times before suggesting that maybe it's time for bed, that you're the one getting sleepy, not him. and then, finally, he'll sigh and tell you that he still has so much work left for him to do, but he supposes that he should humor you for a little while.
he'll get up, and trudge his way to your shared bathroom and begin to get ready for the night. he takes off his robes and puts them up on a hanger, and taking off his gold accessories, including his adornment and chain that went around his neck, and his laurel accessory. after unbuttoning the top button of his vest, he takes off his contacts and puts on his glasses because he's as blind as a bat without them.
and of course, then you come in. you'd change out of your day out and into your pajamas, which was usually just a tank top and a pair of underwear, and then you would make your way to the bathroom where veritas was in the middle of his routine, probably brushing his teeth. you would brush out your hair and make sure that you had taken off any makeup - and probably remind him to take off his eyeliner, too. you were usually trying to get a good look at yourself while behind him in the mirror, often ducking or tilting to the side so you could see yourself.
after brushing your teeth, were were mostly done, save for whatever skincare you did at night. and then you would glance at veritas, your eyes raking over his body, and you would snake your arms around his torso, your head against his back. " you look so nice, veritas, " you would mumble against the fabric of his vest, pressing a soft kiss against his back. " this is my favorite veritas. the guy with grandpa glasses and messy hair who snores at night. "
veritas stifled a laugh, finishing brushing his teeth and rinsing out the minty foam from his mouth before turning around, his arms lazily hanging off of your shoulders. " i suppose its only natural you have your favorites, just as i have mine, " he whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half smile, the exhaustion evident on his face. " although, i must admit, it's amusing to see you try to seduce me while i'm half dressed. "
" is it working ? " you asked teasingly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, leaning into his touch. you could see the tiredness in his eyes, the way he could hardly keep his eyes open even as he shared such an intimate moment with you.
" it's.. charming, " he admits, his voice low and even, and he couldn't stop the small sigh of contentment that spilled from his lips as you kissed him. he knew that you enjoyed these intimate moments, and he'd found himself growing rather accustomed to them too, despite his penchant for a busier, more active lifestyle. but you knew something the world didn't, you saw the warmth in his icy facade that veritas presented to the world as dr. ratio.
" how about i charm you some more, veritas ? " you asked, smiling softly at him, knowing just what he needed. this was the time for your care to shine through, something that honestly didn't happen often enough. " how about a massage, doctor ? " you purred, your eyes glimmering with a longing to please him in a way that only you could. " let me indulge you, dearest dr. ratio. " you only ever used the title dr. ratio in two situations : when you're a guest speaker in his lecture room, and when you're trying to deliberately provoke him into your little games, just so he would let you take care of him for a little while. and it was working splendidly
" you know i've never been one for massages.. " he hums, allowing his voice to trail off as he thought about your little offer. finally, he gave a little sigh, too tired to protest much. " but perhaps, just this once, i might make an exception for you. "
you smiled, taking his hand, as well as a bottle of his favorite scented lotion, leading him towards the bed. once he was laying on his stomach on the bed, his vest long gone, you really had the chance to enjoy his body in a mostly nonsexual way. you sat on his butt with your legs straddling either side of him, hovering over his vulnerable form. you squirted the lotion on your hands, warming it up between your fingers before you began to work on massaging his shoulders. veritas let out a soft grunt as your skilled fingers worked through the knots in his muscles, finding himself relaxing under your ministrations.
your touch was firm and yet gentle, knowing that you would have to be a little rough with him to get out particularly tight tension knots in his muscles. massaging the expanse of his back, you found yourself completely thrown into the little side mission of pleasing your husband that you gave yourself. " when was the last time you had a massage, dear ? " you asked gently, your fingers trailing down his spine, pressing into his skin to work through the tension. " you should let me take care of you more often. you know i enjoy helping you out, you've just gotta ask your lovely partner for help sometimes. "
" i can't recall. perhaps its been far too long, " he mused out loud, his voice deep and grumbly as he closed his eyes, his head in his arms while he enjoyed this moment with you. he knew you well enough by now to know that you weren't talking about just giving him a massage when he needed to relax. you were also extending yourself to comforting him, or supporting him through his endeavors. you'd be there to listen and offer a shoulder to lean on should he need it. and although he may not say it verbally, he couldn't help but appreciate your unwavering support more than you could ever know.
" you know i'm always here, veritas, " your voice was inexplicably warm and loving as you massaged his back, feeling him relax so much more underneath your touch, your every move melting the stress from his body. " i always will be. "
" i wouldn't expect anything less from my beautiful partner, " he chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his arms. there's a note of admiration in his voice, a rare glimpse of vulnerability revealing itself beneath the layers of his typically stoic demeanor. he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him. for all of his faults and flaws, this is where he found his solace; in the quite moments shared with you. the world fades away gradually to him, leaving only the two of you together.
in this moment, he's not dr. ratio, the scholar within the intelligentsia guild, nor the doctor working tirelessly to save his patient's lives. he's got no doctoral under his belt that taught him to how to love, and yet he found himself doing so effortlessly with you. he was simply veritas, a man basking in the comfort and love of his partner. as you work your magic on his tense muscles, he lets his thoughts drift aimlessly. veritas lies there, basking in your tender touch, and he can't help but feel a sense of contentment.
you smiled when you began to hear the soft, familiar sounds of his snoring. you stopped for a moment, looking over his features. his hair was messy and in his face, his eyes closed, and there's no negative emotions on his face. he wasn't angry, or stressed, or worried. he looked peaceful, and happy. you picked yourself up, walking over to grab a towel to clean your hands from some of the lotion. the sound of his snoring became almost like a lullaby to you, a signal that something went right, that you had done something right. you wiped off the remaining lotion from his back, putting the towel on his bedside table before leaning over to him.
you paused, taking in his features up close, before gently brushing his hair out of his face, your hand resting on the top of his head before you gently kissed his cheek. " i love you, veritas. not the man you present yourself as, but the man that you are when no one else is looking. " you knew that underneath his many layers, veritas was a man who wasn't so different from everyone else after all. he was inherently kind, although stubborn in his ways, something that you had grown to love about him.
as you settled in beside him for the night, you couldn't help but think that you were the luckiest one in the room.
#honkai star rail#hsr fanfic#dr ratio#honkai sr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr fluff#hsr x reader#veritas ratio x reader#veritas ratio#veritas x reader#x reader#dr ratio x reader#fluff#drabble#blurb#one shot#hsr ratio#honkai star rail imagine#imagines
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Chapter 3: Window of Opportunity
Pairing: Gojo x fem! reader
Warnings: language, Gojo being well Gojo, domestic violence, thank y'all for sharing your experience with me, it helped me so much understanding childhood trauma and made me transform it into this fic <3
Synopsis: Being the daughter of the Zenin clan made it your mission to defeat him. Him, Satoru Gojo, the honored one. Him, who makes your life a living hell. Him, who begins to get so much more than your curse...
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Hurt to Comfort
<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->
„Oh, did you say something? I can’t understand you when you’re crying like a baby”, you purr as the eyes of the man who writhes in front of you like a little worm fill with tears of sheer fear.
Your grin grows wider and wider, satisfaction filling you to the brim. Maybe that mission isn’t so bad after all when you’re finally able to use your special abilities again.
While you are a skilled combat fighter, the director strictly forbids you to use Phobia Projection against another member of Jujutsu High since your former classmate almost hung himself because of it. You roll your eyes out of instinct.
As if it was his fault that his mind is so damn weak.
“I know he tried to kill us a few seconds ago. But don’t you think you’re going a little too harsh on him, (y/n)?”, Geto questions while manspreading the whole couch and eying you up and down.
“I’m not harsh on him. He’s seeing his own fears, I have nothing to do with that”, you defend yourself with a casual shoulder shrug.
How is it your fault that this guy acts like a baby? You let yourself sink next to Geto, watch from afar how the little bug continues to cry out in agony.
Unfortunately, your powers don’t allow you an insight into what your opponents go through. Is his worst fear a spider, a monster, or even worse…a human? Too bad there’s no way to find out since they never tell you afterwards. Maybe you’ll be able to torture it out of him. With a little bit of cutting and a whole lot of punching-
“P-please, make it stop!”, he yells out over and over.
The violent ringing of Geto’s phone rips you out of your chuckling and more than entertaining thoughts with an annoyed groan. Urgh, who the hell is interrupting that wonderful moment?
“Did you beat him already? I hope the dirty Zenin brat wasn’t in the way.”
You don’t have to look at the screen to know who’s calling, pulse rising to the rooftop. It’s him, the white-haired douchebag. Much to your liking, Geto decided it would be best if you accompany him instead of Gojo. But even if you’re not forced to be next to him physically right now, you’re still doing this mission together. Which means that he’s always there – like herpes.
“Spare your stinky breath. We were done before you decided to-“
“HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME!”
“Can you shut the fuck up? I’m having a serious call with a douchebag right now”, you bark at the man rolling on the floor.
“You’re an evil witch”, Gojo comments dryly on the other side of the phone.
“Evil, huh? Well, at least I’m not as dumb as-“
“Can you two just stop? We have him here as well as the vessel. I’ll send you the location. Don’t cause trouble.”
“Tell that this little-“
Oh right, the plasma vessel. You eye the girl lying opposite of you up and down, her dark hair falling into her closed eyes like a curtain. Must be rough, knowing your only reason walking on this planet is the stinging fact that a part of you will get killed within the next years.
How is she different from you, though?
You, with your family pressuring you into pouring your heart and soul into training, who never accepted you despite your heart work. You, who lost a part of herself in the process of forcing the best version of (y/n) onto you. You, who slowly but surely turned into a frightening resemblance of her family’s shadow, crossing a path she never imagined she’d land on as a kid. You sacrificed your smile, your dignity, your heart for the mission to become better than Gojo Satoru.
Aren’t you just like her?
“Hey, are you good?”
The sheer feeling of Geto’s warm hand resting against your shoulder rips you out of your daydreaming immediately.
“I’m not that Gojo weakling. You don’t need to watch over me”, you reply dryly, gifting him with the deadliest side-eye you have in store.
Well, maybe not the deadliest. That gaze is reserved for Naoya and Gojo only.
“Is there a reason apart from Satoru being a member of the Gojo clan why you hate him? I never understood what’s the deal between both of you.
You can’t help but tilt your head to the side, mind going blank for a second. Now that you think of it…Is there really a reason apart from the fact that your family taught you to hate him for your huge dislike? When you two first saw each other that one evening, he was nothing but a nice boy your age through your innocent eyes. A boy with a quite charming smile, who always had a cheeky reply in store. A boy with a strict family himself. Yes, you actually had a lot in common. And to some point, you began to like him in the few minutes you talked to each other.
Until you came back home and realized who exactly you were talking to.
“You did what?”, your father hissed through gritted teeth.
Another ruthless slap. Blood spilled to the ground, discoloured everything around you crimson. Eyes widen and teary, lips trembling when his flat palm crushed into your face again.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Until you weren’t able to feel your face anymore, eyes so swollen that your vision faded.
“Let me remind you of wrong little thing.”
He grabbed you by the hair Gojo complimented just a few minutes ago roughly and yanked you into the air.
“You are nothing, the biggest disappointment in my whole life. If it was for me, you’d be dead already. But because of your other lousy family members, you get the chance to surpass that Gojo brat. And you?”
Another slap, your feet tangled in the air like a wind chime.
“You actually befriend him. You disgust me, (y/n). And you always will. You’ll never bring honor to your family.”
“He’s himself, that’s enough”, you press out.
“What do we have here, dreaming about me, (y/n)?”
Speaking of the devil. Before you’re even able to accept his existence in the same room, he stands in front of you and grins you down.
That fucker, the reason for your suffering, for the fact that your family doesn’t accept you…
Your hand reacts faster than the rest of your body. A ruthless slap sends Satoru Gojo straight back to reality, echoes through the room without mercy. Your palm begins to burn like hell while your uneven breath hangs in the thick air between both of you.
“What was that, huh?”
He roams closer, his redden skin showing your act of violence way too clearly.
“Who the hell do you think you are, little bitch?”
Your throat begins to tighten uncomfortably, the veins in your arms throbbing in an all too familiar way.
Hatred. You feel nothing but hatred.
“You’d deserve even more than that, asshole”, you bite back.
He’s so close that you’re able to sense the heat radiating from his body and how his breath wanders over your face. You feel like burning alive, so unusual aroused that it’s hard to keep a straight face. Did he always look at you with his lips slightly parted, his eyes glowing like they normally do in serious fights? You are trapped between both of his arms, roasted by his heat, defeated by the way he looks down at you without saying another word.
What is that? And most importantly, do you want it to stop?
You can’t decide for yourself. In the split of a second you find yourself surrounded by broken glass, free fall down from the 15th floor.
Fuck, who’s responsible for this? Did Gojo go this far, would he actually throw you out of a skyscraper just to get rid of you? He might be the biggest asshole walking on this planet, but he’d never do something so damn basic. No, it has to be someone who is chasing after the star plasma vessel, someone who kept an eye on you this entire time.
Well, who’s responsible for this mess isn’t your biggest problem. At the moment, you are on your rapid way to crash into the ground, your guts feeling as if they’ll spill out of your mouth any given minute. And even though you’re able to inhibit the impact, this will still hurt like hell.
Do you have another way out of here, though? Getting hurt is better than crying for anyone’s help, after all. You close your eyes, embrace yourself for multiple broken bones and a wave of pain as soon as you hit the ground.
But it never happens.
“Aren’t so brave anymore, huh? If you only had told me that I would have to throw you out of a sky-high window to get you to shut up, brat.”
Just to let y'all know, I'm still over here giggling like an idiot over the title of that chapter hehehehe
Tags: @whereismysane @risuola @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @livmarauder @sapphireandange
@madaqueue @chilichopsticks @sugurulefttesticle @boba-is-a-soup @jennapancake
@kentocalls @mrshlf @byakuya61085 @polarbvnny @rzcnlb
@m0k0k0
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x geto#geto suguru#suguru#gojo#satoru#satosugu#enemies to lovers#gojo fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk fanworks#jjk fluff#jjk funny#jjk hurt/comfort#jjk humor#jjk hurt
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Until the End
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
SPOILER WARNING!! This has A LOT of spoilers for the next season of the show.
Summary: Aemond informs his wife of his impending battle. (Sorry if it’s kinda bad, just an idea after I read the book and I mean, he’s dreamy in a troubled kinda way.)
“A fortnight, then.”
Flame-lit logs crackled within the stone hearth, answering her words like a captivated audience. The murmur of gossiped tripe ached in her bones the same way it had since the beginning of her husband’s family affairs.
“I thought it right to tell you.” He replied with mixed emotion in his tone.
Ignoring him, she focused herself on the fiery embers as they rose upward, disappearing beyond the chimney’s base. Shades of bursting orange and flickering crimsons cast dramatic shadows across the contours of her warming skin. A rose blush crept onto her cheeks, and yet she pulled her shawl further around her shoulders.
“She is pregnant.” It would have been a question if not for the glaring truth of it all strewn upon his face. “Heavily pregnant.”
There was a distinct hesitance in the words that passed his lips next. He wondered if she had known all along; perhaps he had not hidden his affairs to the extent of his thoughts. Anyone with eyes or ears would have known. Yet, he had convinced himself that out of everyone it would not be she who held disbelief in his alignment.
“My love,” his words died as her anger erupted and flowed slowly from the tenseness of her shoulders.
“Do not.” Bitter as a soured fruit, her words were cut from her tongue. He opened his mouth to speak but was hushed by her calm rage. “If those words should ever leave you again, you will not have a tongue. I have dedicated myself to you, my life, my cause, everything.” She wouldn’t meet his eye. “You have no right to speak to me in such a manner. So, I only implore you for this and this only. When is the child due and will it be you who claims it as your own?”
Their relationship had never been a tumultuous one. Often they sailed upon smooth waters, their portage was met with clear skies and an outlook on the vast openness that was their journey together. But something was always lurking just below its surface. While his anger came in outbursts and pointed attacks, hers was more subtle and subdued. Her ferocity slithered beneath her exterior, only showing itself in passive quips, sharp words, and the intense avoidance of her gaze.
In truth, she was never more than a passing glance. Her beauty was outshined by that of her mother or even that of her grandmother. While desirable, she was often overlooked in a room of people. She was an always present individual, even if it were only physical and not of heart and mind. Countless times she was given grandiose offers for her hand by the endless barrage of scrambling lords who wanted to better their position and house’s prestige. Countless times she would hear whispers of their denials and the subsequent mild rage that seethed from the men’s bodies who were often more than twice her age. Even those who had attempted to court her mother in her blooming years had thought it right to do the same to her, expecting a different outcome. But it was their mistake, for they did not realize she was promised to another.
“I cannot give you information I do not have.”
His fingernails, though cut short and clean, dug crescents into the palms of his hands.
“Then you will contest it? You will deny to me in this instant that her child is yours? You will tell me that you have not taken her to your bed?”
“I can tell you whatever you would like to hear, my love. But I cannot promise the truth to my word.”
“Then I do not wish to hear it.” She sighed, but in a way that oozed resentment opposed to one of defeat. “Leave me.”
The weight of his stare pushed harshly against the vibrancy of her being. It swirled around in the air like smoke and ash, threatening to envelop her whole and take her to darkness. “I will not.” He defied her demand, standing firm just steps away from where she had positioned herself to watch the burning wood that warmed the room.
“You will do as I demand and leave me.” His steps were heavy as he drew closer, halted by her speaking once more. “Leave me.” The veins of her neck were strained, pumping blood viciously to her face causing it to blush a shade of pink. Yet, she continued to not meet his eye.
Even when he laid his hands upon her shoulders and shook her body wholly, she flouted her vision and expelled him from her line of view. He gripped her frantically, grasping at her upper and lower arms as he searched her for a semblance of the woman he knew.
“Look at me!” He repeated, growing more and more discontented. The pupils of his lilac eye vacillated from a pin-prick to an endless abyss. “I command you to look at me!”
It was almost childish. The two of them battled in distinctly different ways. He let his anger bubble to the surface and spill from his edges, while she preferred to not give people the satisfaction of seeing her hurt. They were both terribly flawed in their processes.
“Look at me!” He was yelling now.
“You cannot command anything of me.” She refused, choosing to focus on the golden clasps of his tunic that had been marred in dried brown blood. Whose, she did not know, but the sight of it left a poor taste upon her tongue.
“I can. You forget your place in the hierarchy.” His gloved fingers burnt against her skin. “Allow me to remind you,” he lowered his chin to rest upon her shoulder where his words vibrated from his chest to hers, “I am your lord husband and you are my lady wife. I am prince regent, my word is law.”
She could feel his resolve softening slightly as the steady beating of her heart and the softness of her breasts soothed his rugged rage. She could give in. She could allow him to coax her back to the ground where his iron heart kept him planted to the solid surface. There were many things she could have done and she chose the worst of them. All the hurt he had put her through was festering in her stomach, twisting and turning her insides in a wild rage. He had killed her brother and cousin, waged war against her mother and step-father, and kept her concealed within the Red Keep until they could be sure of her alignment. To top it all off, he had defiled her trust in him as a partner. He had taken another woman to bed.
“You cannot command anything of me as your command comes from your false claim to the throne.”
A crack in her voice was the only emotion in her words.
“You wear the conqueror’s crown yet have conquered nothing except for a common whore.”
He pushed himself backward in a way that did not use her body to project him so. Her feet remained planted and firm, unswaying in the storm that brewed in his chest.
Thundering and electrifying below the surface, he writhed in the sheets she had laid out before him in the bed he had made himself. He aimed to hurt. Taunting was his warfare and striking words were his blade.
“At the very least, my Alys can bear me children whereas you have failed at your only responsibility to me.” He took a step backward and composed himself, lifting his jaw and peering at her from the top of his cheek. Only when she finally brought her eyes to his did he turn it back down to stare down the bridge of his nose. “A fortnight, then.”
He turned on his heel and left his wife alone with her thoughts. If he had stayed a moment longer, he would have seen her shoulders tremble and her hand coast along the bodice of her gown. All the pain of his words was on display in her glassy eyes. All the rejection of his movements slowly burnt the bridge that connected them.
On day thirteen she remained locked in her chambers, hiding amongst the quilted sheets of her bed. No handmaiden or guard dare bother her and any movement on her behalf would have been reported to the prince who lingered on the grounds.
She only saw the moonlight on days twelve and eleven, waking from fitful dreams to an empty bed. Aemond had not warmed her sheets for months, constantly gone to battle and in the arms of another.
She emerged from her silken cocoon on day ten, wrapping herself in a black shawl before lingering in front of the fire for the remainder of the day. Homely sounds of her nieces and nephews pattering feet, her grandmother's anxious words, and the general organized chaos of the castle were ghosts in her ears. The room where she stayed now was not home. It was a prison. At first she thought it loving of her husband to take her to safety, to conceal her away from the battles. But the longer she remained, the more she grew to resent him.
On day nine, she was served a brothy soup that smelled of fresh thyme and flavored oil. It settled uncomfortably in her stomach and the heart of her meal was left in the bowl to chill in the midnight air.
It wasn’t until day eight that she finally stepped back into the land of the living where nothing had changed from the way she left it days prior. A guard noted her exit and promptly left, likely gone to alert the prince of her movements. A handmaiden, no older than she, guided her through the corridors, careful to not lead her in the direction of her husband’s new chambers.
“My lady, the prince requests you join him in his study.”
She continued past the guard who had been sent to summon her, her feet carrying her in the opposite direction.
The gardens were mild and temperate with summer flowers in bloom that seemed to cascade like waterfalls down the sides of the castle’s old stone walls. Colors of vibrant blues and pearlescent white were sprinkled about, contrasted by the brilliant deep green of the growing ivy.
Her handmaiden kept two steps behind her, occasionally picking a fallen leaf or petal out of the dress’s train. Otherwise, the two walked in a calming silence until she returned to her chambers for the remainder of the night.
On the seventh day, a sennight until her husband's battle, she woke to a bouquet of fresh heliotropes. They were all shades of purple, some amethyst and others deep like obsidian. She did not need to ponder long who they had come from. They were the same flower that adorned the Red Keep’s great hall on the day they wed. Eternal love was symbolized in the flower’s petals, but the definition of eternal seemed to end in the sheets of Harrenhal.
On the sixth day, she again spent her time awake in the middle of the night. Her room in the Holdfast overlooked some of the gardens where only guards patrolled at this late hour. However, she was not in the Holdfast. Dragonstone had become her new home. She sat in the window, a velvet shawl draped over her shoulders, bathing in the moonlight. There was vastly more to see here. From her perch, she could see the grounds below, a small village, and the empty ocean that reminded her of her father.
She wondered what her mother was doing. After being locked within the Red Keep, she lost all contact with the outside world. Any news of the war was only fed to her though eavesdropping either on maids or her cousins. It was rare for her to think about the consequences of her family’s actions, but with nothing else to distract her, her mind wandered. When she arrived in Dragonstone it got worse. All news of the war stopped as if everyone had been instructed to keep it a secret from the princess.
She thought back to the day she was told she was to marry her cousin. Her mother had taken her into the gardens and walked with her for hours. The two walked endlessly through the ivy and wisteria, eventually making their way into the less traveled pathways. Rhaenyra told her that she was betrothed and from that day forward she took her duties as a wife very seriously.
Until the day Rhaenyra and Laenor left for Dragonstone, she was counseled by the Queen, her grandmother and soon-to-be mother in law. Alicent had taken to the girl like her own daughter. She instilled a deep sense of duty and honor into her moral code, encouraging her to age with grace and the makings of a royal. The young girl enjoyed her time with both her mother and grandmother, but especially the moments she spent with her future husband.
Deep in her heart, she knew the days of married bliss were mere memories she had built with rose-colored glasses. She wondered if they were ever truly happy together.
On the third day, she emerged from her chambers clad in a gown of black and gold. Thick brocade fabric formed soft pleats that barely grazed the ground beneath her feet as she walked. A necklace of gold and sapphire laid delicately against her collarbone. She was tired of playing the part of a broken woman. Whether she liked it or not, she was the first born daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon. Laying down in defeat was not an option on the table.
Again, the prince regent called for his lady wife. Again, she did not heed his request, instead making her way through the halls of Dragonstone where she would eventually find herself standing at the edge of the cranberry bog where small pink flowers swirled together like a sunset sea. Come autumn they would be red fruits, ready to flavor the season.
“You have been avoiding me.”
The voice jostled her from her thoughts.
There, no more than ten feet back, stood her husband. He wore his usual attire, blackened leather with sleeves that came to his wrists. Platinum blonde hair was less tame than usual, wild strands framing his face in a delicate yet dangerous way. The sun glistened against his sapphire eye, matching the way it did against her necklace.
A simple nod in agreement was all she gave. It was easier to turn her back to him and let the past consume her.
“My,” he stopped himself. “I want to talk.”
“Then talk. Nobody is stopping you.”
His body pressed into hers in an intimate way it had not in ages. Long steps drew him near and the warmth of his waist was pressed into her side as he found his footing in the grass. His arms were latched behind his back with one hand cradling his other’s fingers.
“I remember the first time we properly met as betrothed children. You were a child of eight and I, nine. My mother had just denied a proposed betrothal between Helaena and Jacaerys.
My mother proposed a union between us. We were the leftover children, naturally we suited one another. You had just returned from the godswood and we were made to dine together.” The smallest smile tugged at his lips. “You hated every minute of it.”
“As did you.”
“I knew my duty was to you, to be a good husband for you, but I did not know you. Then you moved here. I had tried writing to you on multiple occasions, but the words never came to me naturally. I knew what to write, but without emotion it felt disingenuous. I wanted to be genuine.
However, at nine, I cared little for marriage. I wanted to be stronger, a better swordsman. I wanted a dragon, a true symbol of Targaryen power.
When Laena passed and we met again in Pentos, you were a different person. A year older and entirely different. You were the only one in your family to stand by my side when I was injured. I remember the way you screamed at your brother, telling him it was over and that violence was not the way. The sound of your screaming still rings in my ears as I tried to stop the bleeding. I can still feel your trembling hands as you tore the hems of your dress to give me the fabric. I can see the way your brothers seethed at the sight of it all.”
A breeze brought off the cliff side rustled the ruching of her gown. It had been many years since she thought back to that day. As a child of nine she was far beyond her years of maturity. Some would tell her she was the perfect bride for her husband-to-be. Calm in temper, she would tame the other who was constantly on edge.
“They loathed me for years afterward. My step sisters never quite forgave me.”
“And yet, you remain by my side.”
She laughed bitterly, tucking her chin to her chest as she angled her head away from him. “And yet, I do.”
Hesitancy was not a trait carried by the prince regent. In fact, there had rarely if ever been a time in which he had not displayed a self-assured attitude in every aspect of his life. But in that moment, with an outstretched arm, he hesitantly placed his ungloved hand to the small of her back.
A burst of uncomfortable tension crawled beneath her gown, spreading to her sides and shoulders in a crushing wave. She stiffened, eyes cast downward to the grass. It was only when his fingers, long and nimble, began to rub small circles of familiar softness. He had often done this since their union. Especially so when in the unforgiving presence of her step father and mother who grew to regret agreeing to wed the two.
“Do you regret it?” Aemond asked, his focus now shifted to the side of his wife’s face. He could see the turmoil in her creased brow in the way her eyes squinted and lip upturned. “For even a moment?”
The answer came with a surge of relief and confusion.
“No.”
How could she not regret it, he wondered. For all that he had put her through: the separation from her family, the loss of those closest to her, the grief of miscarriage, and the pain of intense heartbreak stemming from his adultery. He had stolen the comfortable life she lived from her and crumpled it beneath his shoe the moment she was promised to him.
A part of him wanted to shake her as he did a week prior. He wanted to scream and demand a reasonable answer as to why she does not resent the relationship. Every fiber of his being was set aflame with confusion.
“No?” He repeated. The hand placed on her side grasped at her waist to turn her body in his hold. Only when the tip of his finger coaxed her chin from her chest did she meet his gaze.
Wetness pooled at the rims of her eyes, clawing through her lower lashes to stream down her sunken cheeks. She was not one to cry. Even after the loss of her first, she did not publically shed a tear. “No.”
Aemond felt his betrayal, then.
The feeling bubbled in his stomach, churching uncomfortably in a wild whirlpool of emotion. It threatened to come up his throat, leaving long gashes of red hatred in his body. Each tear she shed was like a hole burst in his chest. The iridescent droplets were reminders of his sacred vow broken.
He choked on his response, leaving her an open stage to speak.
“Please, do not choose her over me. I have lost all, I cannot lose you too.”
Whatever was left of his heart shattered as he found his eye glassy, blurring with the same salted tears as hers.
He suddenly pulled her close, his hand smoothing down the back of her head to bring her to his chest. Horrible sobs racked through her body causing her shoulders to quake as his hands desperately tried to soothe her. “Never, my love.”
~*~
“I sent the whore away.” Aemond walked with purpose, coming to stand before his wife who was seated at a table with a steaming cup of tea. His fingers were latched behind his back.
It was two days until his battle was set to take place.
A slight nod was given, gradually turning into a full one as his wife placed her cup down onto the table. “That’s… good. That is good.”
Bile still rose in her throat every time she thought of the woman. Older and more mature than she, Alys Rivers was her name. A common bedwhore from Harrenhal was her occupation and she bore no name of any relevance as she was a bastard. What had been so enticing about her that he would break his sacred vow?
“Your happiness in the situation is lost on me.” The seat across from her was filled with Aemond’s presence as he quickly filled the empty space.
“No.” She interjected. “I am very happy. Truly.”
The storm of emotion in her features said otherwise.
“But something still ails you.”
She got lost in the plumes of steam that rose from her cup, floating into the stagnant air as if being pulled up by strings. “It is nothing. A simple insecurity, not a problem to breathe life into any longer.”
“It is my infidelity, is it not?”
Looking like a child who had been caught out of bed, she folded her hands in her lap and stared at her husband.
“She is a witch.” Aemond stated as if it were a common thing. “She has visions; she sees things in the clouds and flames. I cannot explain it. She used potions to cause my eye to wander.” Holding his wife’s gaze, he slumped his shoulders and let his back arch to rest his forearms on his thighs. “I should have been stronger. I should have seen through that witch-” he grew angrier but she was not sure if it was in truth, “that whore’s facade. I should not have let myself cause you, my beautiful wife, any pain.”
His head slipped into his palms, forehead cradled and fingers tangled in his platinum locks.
“How am I to know your words hold truth?” She watched as Aemond shook his head.
“It was a lapse in my rational judgment. I will always return to you, my love.” In a low strained tone he breathed his words. “She means nothing to me.” But his unwillingness to use her name, Alys, made her doubt his statement.
It did not take long for his wife to thrust herself from her seated position and move to kneel at his side. Her dress collected dust as she lowered herself to peer beneath the curtain of hair that blocked his face.
“She is not our problem now.” Assuring words were what his wife needed to hear, not him. But she could not resist the way he pulled at her heartstrings. “We will move forward together. The war will end and we can find peace in our lives. I am still young, we will find a way to bring healthy children into our lives.”
Conflict, she found, was not a flattering color to bathe in. There was nary a time that the Targaryen dynasty did not partake in one form of insanity or another. It was written in their fates to continually live in turmoil. Even those that tried to keep peace sprouted seeds of distress in their descendants or amongst their people.
Aemond and the princess were no exceptions.
They had wed hastily but were able to get through the evening without a duel or death. Viserys II’s health was failing him. Though able to walk still, he struggled in his everyday life. The princess was sent from Dragonstone to Kings Landing where she had a quick ceremony that her direct family did not attend. This attributed to her feelings for her husband. She found comfort in his presence. He was there when others were not.
Her life felt as if it were out of her control. From the moment she was brought into her cruel world others were planning her future and she was locked in her gilded cage. With Aemond, she felt like she was in control. Though the truth in that could be debatable.
They laid together that night for the first time in many and possibly the last. Memories of brighter times had been shared as they basked in the afterglow, lit by only the moon. He had more scars than she remembered. While still lean and pale, cuts of bright pink and burnt auburn were spliced across his torso. Distinct claw marks were marred into his shoulder blades, reminders of his infidelity.
It was almost as if they could talk to her as she counted them in the moonlight. Aemond had turned in his sleep, his back to her. Displayed like an open canvas, she couldn’t help but find her mind shrouded by hurt and anger again as the name burst into her ears. Alys Rivers, the whore, the bedmate, the bastard, and the woman who caught her husband’s wandering eye. She cringed as she tried to picture her. Surely she at least had wrinkles. There had to be a flaw to her appearance. As hard as the princess tried, she could only picture a woman of beauty.
Lost in her insecurities, she had not noticed that Aemond had turned over and now studied his wife’s face as it twisted and contorted. He knew what was troubling her. Instead of lying, telling her that Alys was a horrid woman, he said nothing and took her into his arms. Crushing her in his embrace, he held her like it would be the last time he could. He memorized her shape, her smell, her warmth and her love. His eyes closed and he rested his chin atop her head.
“I love you.” He whispered into the night, unsure if she heard him or not as her chest rose and fell like a metronome keeping a beat. “I love you.” He repeated, holding her tight as he willed himself to sleep knowing what was to come the next day.
~~~*~~~
“Stay.”
Her hand caught his as he made his way toward Vhaegar, dressed in his charcoal armor. The helm was down, concealing his face within.
“Aemond, please.”
The full grasp on his wrist halted him in his tracks. The beast let out a low grumble, growing impatient as its rider stood motionless on the cliff side. A gentle breeze blew in, bringing with it salted air that watered her tongue.
“I will return.” Assurance in the face of death was just words on the breeze, taken far away before they could drop like seedlings and plant themselves in her mind.
“Whole and alive with a beating heart or in memory?”
His hand, though covered in a thick leather glove, came to rest upon her cheek. The other pulled the visor of his shining helm up to reveal his contrasting eyes. “Do you doubt my abilities, my love?”
“Not for one moment.”
His palm pressed against her cheek, lingering longer than he intended as she leaned into his touch. Lashes fanned across her skin, fluttering softly as her lips pressed into a fine line, holding back whatever emotion was within.
“I will return. I vowed to protect you, until my very last day. That day will not be today.” Though he could not press his lips to hers, he drew her in close, holding her firmly against him. “Wait by the ocean until the sun dips below the horizon. I will be here by your side the moment the world is cast into darkness.” He held her back, staring deeply into her eyes. “I promise, my love. I will return.”
She cried as he turned and mounted Vhaegar. Tears streamed from her reddened eyes as he waved her off with another proclamation of his return. Even the frightful blasts of warm summer air could not dissuade the constant river that bled onto her cheeks.
It was late when her sobs ceased and the whisper of prayer died on her lips. The protective light of the day had fled from the sky leaving her cast in darkness and broken promises. Her knees had formed deep grooves in the fine sand where they landed hours before. Fists full of earth could not move the clock backward. Aemond was lost to the wind.
Grief kept her going in the deep midnight hours as she gazed into the distance where Westeros lied. Every speck in the sky had her heart beating faster than before. Each turned out to be nothing. It was only when the morning came and the world continued forward that she moved from her spot. The tide had brought water in around her thighs, soaking her dress through.
She ached like nothing else in the following days. It was as if she could feel every wound her husband had endured. Her dreams were haunted all the same. Blue eyes stared at her through the misty haze that rolled in. Aemond filled her thoughts. At night, she could see him in the darkness looming in the corner of her room.
Word of his death eventually made it to Dragonstone. Mention of his Alys occupying Harrenhal was floated by the guards. How he had brought her to the battle, kissed her passionately, and died in the skies only posed as daggers thrust into her heart.
It wasn’t until years later that Aemond returned to Dragonstone, to his wife. Though, she did not greet him on the beach. She met him in the crypts, sealed away in stone tombs left to collect dust.
She had died of a chill in 133 AC, taking her final breaths on that same sandy beach.
Although not by his doings, he had kept his promise. Brought back in a box of black and red sealed tight with dark metal, Aemond was laid to rest at his wife’s side.
I will return.
#Aemond Targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#house of the dragon imagine#hotd spoilers#aemond fanfiction
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Numerology
There are multiple numbers in your birthday. The most common ones being the day of the month you were born and your life path number. These two are the strongest numerical energies within you/your life (especially the life path number) but you also have other numbers too
Your Life Path #
Your life path number is the strongest numerical energy in your birthday and reveals your purpose. It can be calculated by adding your birthday numbers together then reducing them. The only time you don’t reduce them is if the total adds to 11, 22, or 33 because those are master numbers. There are also other special numbers other than master numbers that would have both the reduced energy and non reduced energy - 19, 28, etc
Some Examples:
• Alexa Demie born Dec 11 1990 is a life path 6 (December is the 12th month - 1+2+1+1+1+9+9=24-2+4=6)
• Albert Einstein born March 14 1879 is a life path 33 (March is the 3rd month - 3+1+4+1+8+7+9=33)
• Drake born on October 24 1984 is a life path 31/4 (October is the 10th month - 1+2+4+1+9+8+4=31-3+1=4)
Your true Life Path #
Your true life path number is calculated the same way as your regular one just not reduced. It can tell about a significant age in your life
Some examples:
• My mom’s true life path number is 31 and that’s the age she had me - which is extremely significant because duh it’s me ;)
• My true life path number is 17 and at 17 I learned about astrology which changed my life
Your Day of the month #
The day of the month in which you were born is the second most important numerical energy in your birthday and reveals how to fulfill your purpose. You also must reduce this number as well unless it’s a master number
Your Talent #
Your talent number can tell about your talents and just other numerical energy you have in general. It’s calculated by adding both your birth month and birth day together
Some Examples:
• Druski born September 12 has a talent number 3 (9+1+2=3) which is the number of comedy and he’s a comedian who’s also known for being funny online
• Adriana Lima born June 12 has a talent number 9 (6+1+2=9) which is the number of extreme beauty which is why she makes such a great model
Your Month + Year #
This is another numerical energy in your birthday that can be calculated by adding both your birth month and year
Example:
• Jacob Elordi was born June 1997 and his is 5 (6+1+9+9+7=32-3+2=5) and 5 is the number of societal beauty. He is considered conventionally attractive. This is also the number of entertainment and he’s an actor
Your birthday month #
The month you were born is under looked and very important to check as well
Example:
• Theo Von is considered very funny to many people but has no 3 energy (the number of comedy) in his day number or life path however he is born in the 3rd month of the year
Your birthday year #
The year you were born can tell about your numerical energy as well
Some Examples:
• Marilyn Monroe born in 1926 a 9 year (1+9+2+6=18-1+8=9) was known for her acting and 9 energy indicates a talented actor
• Olivia Rodrigo was born in 2003 a 5 year (2+3=5) which is the number of entertainment and she’s a singer. It’s also the number of societal beauty and she’s considered to be attractive to society
Your Letterology
Your name also has numerical energy in it. Each letter equals a number in letterology. You can use your birth name or nickname to find your energy. What people call you holes the most energy in my opinion. The letters go in order a=1, b=2, c=3, d=4, etc. There’s also capital letters that begin with A=27, B=28, C=29, D=30, E=31, and so on
Example:
• (Marilyn Monroe) Marilyn = 11, Monroe = 8, Marilyn Monroe = 1. Marilyn Monroe also has 13 letters in it and M is the 13th letter. 8, 11, and 13 are all fame numbers. 1 represents leadership which is why she’s one of the number one most famous people that ever lived
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part 1 - part 2
"It's not your fault, Enid, and there is nothing that can be done about it. It's just the way thing are. Goody did tell me I'm destined to be alone".
"I'm- I'm so sorry, Wednesday" Enid couldn't help but whisper, not daring to look into dark eyes. "If only I..."
"If only you nothing, mi corazón", Wednesday interrupted firmly. "It wasn't your choice to begin with, and it's not something you did. Besides, even if you had a say in it, why would you choose an Addams? Even more, me?"
Enid's head snapped up. She felt her fur appearing at the back of her neck and standing up, while quiet growling started deep in her chest.
"What do you-? How are you even-? Gods, Wednesday, I never wanted to strangle you more than now!" Enid decided to ignore how Wednesday gulped, because she didn't look scared at all and Enid was too mad right now to unpack it. Her claws went deep into the wood of the bench.
"Why wouldn't I?! You are the most intelligent, cool, scary, capable, caring and beautiful person I know! I would be so lucky to- wait, I am so lucky and honored to have you as my soulmate so don't ever say something so, so... so stupid to me again!"
She ended her speech (which with every passing second became more embarrassing but no less true) right into Wednesday's shocked face. With widely open eyes she looked very cute right now.
Enid felt metal taste, only now noticing that her fangs came out too and torn a side of her bottom lip.
Wednesday slowly brought her hand to the place where a drop of blood was about to fall. But instead of wiping it, she smudged it more, shivering just a bit when Enid's breath grazed her finger.
"Eres muy hermosa en este momento", Wednesday breathed out with almost dazed look in her eyes, before catching herself.
Enid caught her retrieving hand, pressing it to her cheek, nuzzling a bit, absentmindedly searching her wrist for the scent gland she knew Wednesday as a human couldn't have.
"Enid, I would prefer to finish my book, before dying. Can you let me go?"
"I was just objectively speaking- mhn", Enid bit harder into small wrist, following with sharp eyes, how Wednesday blocked her mouth with her other hand.
"No can do", now almost halfway to wolfing out, Enid didn't bother trying to understand where her sudden obsession came from. "You see, my soulmate was thinking badly about herself, I should reassure her".
She found a spot where scent was stronger and bit there.
You see, if not for the full moon aproaching and pouring hormones into her blood, perhaps Enid wouldn't have almost transformed from sheer irritation. Maybe she would silently listen to the story only to confide herself in the room to think and overthink things, hurting Wednesday and herself.
"Say, Wens, how can someone check if they're an Addams' soulmate?" Wednesday glared at her, even if she still didn't take her hand back. Something primal in Enid preened at it. Wednesday was clearly starting to be mad, but she seemed almost helpless to resist her soulmates attention, even though she sure could.
"As I said, they can't be truly happy with another romantic partner", Wednsday tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear in frustration, even her cheeks were not their usual deadly white. Her hair was longer now than when they were at their first meeting three years ago. And now she started to wear it loose at home more often, despite not liking being the split image of her mother.
"Go on".
"They are immediately attrected to their respective Addams and wants to be closer to them despite everything".
"Interesting", even if Enid was listening attentively, but the image of Wednesday squirming because she soothed her bite with the tongue, was starting to make her head feel hazy.
"They are- mhn, feel the urge to protect their soulmate at all cost. And the most important, after they meet their Addams they become unable to have any romantic contact with other people".
Enid froze right before biting a second time a little higher. Her fangs and claws rectracted.
"Have you finally came to your senses? Honestly, have you just wanted to tease me? I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. Even if the full moon not far. You knew, I wouldn't joke about that and it will be painful when we retu-"
Enid just sat there dumbfounded. Did Wednsday not know? Has she had no idea?
So when she kept accidentally extend her claws when kissing Ajax, it wasn't just nerves. And when she felt the urge to get Wednesday near and safe and looking at her, it wasn't just friendship. And when she went into the woods not wolved out to protect her, it wasn't just loyalty.
Enid started to giggle. It explained so much! And if Wednesday wasn't so pessimistic all this time and explained, everything would've been different.
"Enid? Are you alright?" See, even if Wednesday seemed cold, she was caring. "Have your hormones gone to your head?"
"You are silly", Enid managed between laughter.
"Mi amor, are you okay?" Wednesday started to sound worried, bending over to Enid, who was maniacally giggling on the ground.
"I'm not. I found my soulmate, realized I've been in love with her for four years, and learned that my soulmate wanted a gruesome death so much she forgot to ask me if I love her. Isn't it a bit silly?"
Wednesday almost toppled over, and Enid tugged her stupid, stubborn, the most perfect soulmate into her arms.
"Hi, I'm Enid", she said, smiling in bewildered dark eyes, that slowly started to soften with tears and soul-crashing relief. "I think you are gorgeous inside and out and many other things I'll tell you throughout our whole lives. I've loved you since I saw you, and I'm really glad you love me too".
Someday Wednesday will make her swear she won't tell a soul that her soulmate cried.
Someday Enid will scold her for keeping all to herself, while kissing all over her tear-soaked face.
Someday they'll tell everyone to the chorus of "well dah".
But now there is just one thing that is more important than anything.
It is to sniffle a little because Enid is not made from stone and there is her love in her arms.
"I'm your soulmate!"
#wednesday netflix#wednesday addams#enid sinclair#wenclair#forgive my spanish it's googled#final part!
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New Lyrics tonight
Charles Leclerc x Male Reader
Summary - Bonding over music
Charles has been training at the track all day. Charles and Carlos are on the race track racing each other. After the race, they didn't agree on who beat who. Charles sits down to take a break and he checks his phone. He saw your text and he started to smile and he started to text you back. He doesn't like to text all the time but with you is an expectation. Carlos sits next to Charles and they begin to talk then Carlos mentions you.
“It’s sad that Y/N is not in the band anymore,” Carlos said.
“What are you talking about?” Charles asked.
Carlos took out his phone and showed him the article. You were kicked out of your band and you didn't tell Charles about it.
“Y/N didn't tell me,” Charles said.
“You should talk to him” Carlos said.
“I will,” Charles said.
You were in the band for many years. You met Charles when his friends took him to see the band perform. His friends knew the leader singer then you met Charles through them. You didn't know what was Formula 1 or that he was a famous driver. The more you got to know Charles, then you started to get into Formula 1. You moved in with Charles in Monaco and the relationship got serious fast from the start. The relationship is a secret for many reasons.
Hours later, Charles finished training and he went home. He noticed a lot of crumpled papers on the floor and he walked toward you. He gives you a peck on the lips and he sits next to you.
“Y/N, what happened with the band? Carlos told me that you left the band” Charles said
“I was kicked out of the band I was in since the beginning. The new manager is an asshole and everyone is agreeing to sing crappy music which we always hated” You sighed
“Why you didn't tell me, Y/N?” Charles asked
“The race started and you were training a lot. I didn't want to ruin your focus, that's why I didn't say anything” You said
“You miss the band?” Charles asked
“No, because it was going in a direction I didn't like,” You said
“I’m sorry I wasn't there when you needed me,” Charles said
You kiss him on the lips and he starts to kiss you back.
“I’m not mad, Charles,” You said.
“You can make your own music and your own songs” Charles smiled.
“Yeah, I can. I was trying to write music but I kept getting stuck” You said
He kissed you again then he grabbed your hand.
“You need a break,” Charles said
He kissed your forehead. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest. You just cuddle with him on the couch and he listens to you talk about your solo project. Later, he took a shower and put on pajamas then you watched Charles make dinner for you. You decided to help him cook and he gave you encouragement not to give up on your music.
——
In the middle of the night, you and Charles couldn't sleep. You and Charles head to the living room and he starts to play the piano and you start to sing while writing down the lyrics. You grab your acoustic guitar and he continues to play the piano.
✫ ✯ ✬ ✯
You come home and Charles grabs Your hand, he takes you toward the piano.
“What is it?” You asked.
You sit down next to him.
“In your song, there should be soft music playing then you start to Sing. It will go like this” Charles Said.
He starts to play the piano and you just listen. Sometimes he would teach you how to play the piano.
“That was great. And I like your idea” You smiled.
“I thought you wouldn't like it,” Charles said.
You kissed him on the lips.
“I really do like it” You smiled.
You grab your notebook and you change the lyrics. He tells you where to stop then sing again then you start to sing and you follow his lead.
#Charles Leclerc x male reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#x male reader#male!reader#male reader#male reader insert#male reader imagine#f1 imagines
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