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scuderiahoney · 19 days

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Oscar Piastri x reader // in motion part 7

summary: a hockey watch party, one last data point for the pizza theory, and one last chance at the national title. Word Count: 7.2k

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mentions of bullying, & some very mild angst

You watch the second round of the hockey championships from the floor of Lily’s apartment, surrounded by friends and friends of friends and anyone who cares enough about hockey to be there, really. You’re in a pair of Timberwolves sweats, your jersey, a team logo beanie, and even your socks are Timberwolves blue. The apartment gets warm, eventually, but you refuse to take any of it off.

They play a good game. The other team is good too, though. You hold your breath for almost the entire third period- it’s tied, 3 to 3. Alex makes save after save. Max takes shot after shot. Nothing is working.

Then, Oscar comes out onto the ice with just a few minutes left to play. You reach behind you and grab Lily’s hand. Lando snatches the puck away from the other team and sends it off to Max. Max passes it through a gap to Oscar. Oscar takes the shot.

The puck hits the net. The goal horn goes off, and the apartment falls quiet. Everyone is holding their breath now. Nobody dares to celebrate yet.

“There’s still a minute left,” you say, like you’re not all aware of it.

The seconds tick down. They feel endless. But when the buzzer sounds, the Timberwolves are up by one. They’re headed to the semifinals. The apartment erupts into cheers, and all you can do is finally breathe. Behind you, Lily does the same, melting into the couch.

“Guess it’s time to book flights to St. Paul,” she says, when you turn to look back at her.

You take a shot of tequila with her in the kitchen, and then you get seats next to each other on a flight out to the semifinals. Your phone rings nearly immediately after that- the apartment is noisy, but it’s Max, so you answer anyways.

“Bunny!” He yells. “We fucking did it!”

“I know!” You say back, feeling nearly as giddy as he must be. “Holy shit, Max!”

“I know,” he says back. You think he might be crying. “You’re gonna come, right?”

“Booked our flights already.”

Lando’s the next one on the line, and it’s pretty much a repeat of the same conversation. It continues. At one point, Alex is talking to both you and Lily on separate calls. You hope someone snaps a picture of him with two phones to his ears. The call lasts through their bus ride back to the hotel, and you want to ask for Oscar but you can’t, really, not when-

“Hi?” Oscar says, voice slightly confused. “Someone handed me the phone, I’ve got no idea what-“

“Osc,” you say, softly.

“Bunny,” he whispers, and the tone of voice makes you melt. “Hi.”

“Good job,” you say. “That goal…”

“Fucking insane,” he says, voice cracking slightly. “I’m so happy.”

You grin. “Me too.”

“I wish you were here,” he says, quietly.

You know somewhere during the call they’ve gotten off the bus and headed inside somewhere- maybe the hotel, maybe a restaurant. You wonder if he’s snuck away to talk to you, or if he’s counting on everyone being too excited to pay attention to him. Either way, you don’t mind. It’s enough to hear his voice, to hear the warmth in it, to know that he wants to talk to you too.

“Me too,” you say. Lily’s motioning to you from across the room, holding up the bottle of tequila. You nod, and she pours you another drink. “But Lily and I just booked flights for the semifinals.”

“Really?” He says, sounding a bit awed. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you murmur.

“I- I’ve gotta go. We’re out for dinner, Seb’s buying, and-“

“I know,” you tell him, smiling to yourself. “I’ll talk to you soon. Have fun. Congrats.”

“Thanks, baby,” he says.

Then the line goes dead. You take your drink from Lily and take a sip. She gives you a look, a knowing smile on her face. You blink back as innocently as possible.

“You spent that whole call looking happy,” she says. “And then you got to the last five minutes and you looked lovesick.”

“Did I?” You ask.

She’s become convinced that your mystery boyfriend is someone on the team. She’s right, of course, but you’ve refused to tell her. You’d have told her tonight if they lost the game, but it’s the playoffs. You can’t do anything to mess this up for Oscar or the rest of the team. They’ve been so close the last 3 years. This is Lando and Max’s last chance. You’d do anything to see your best friends win.

“I’ll ask Alex who had the phone last,” she threatens.

“No, you won’t, because you won’t violate my trust like that.”

“Don’t call my bluff,” she groans. “Why won’t you just tell me who it is?”

You sigh. “They’re in the semifinals, Lily. I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”

She sighs and pouts back at you. “He’s one of the good ones, right? It’s not, like…”

“He’s amazing,” you say, both to reassure her and because it’s true. “Trust me.”

…..

“Hey,” Oscar says, nudging his foot against your ankle. “I have a question.”

It’s late, probably near midnight. It’s a Wednesday, the night before the team flies to Minnesota for the playoffs. You look up from your laptop, propped on your knees in front of you, and blink away the blurriness to look at him. He’s sitting on the other end of your couch, a mirror image, soft and cozy in the warm glow of the lamps in the living room. He’s not doing anything other than scrolling on his phone, but he’d insisted on wanting to be here tonight. To spend the night with you.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You ask. Your homework can wait. You’d much rather talk to him.

“Why does everyone call you Bunny?” He asks. “Like. I get the idea, but how did it even start?”

You blow out a breath and click save on your document. “That’s a long story.”

He shrugs and sinks further down on the couch, leaning against the arm of it. His calf slots between yours, warm and comforting and there. The two of you have been busy the past few days, weeks even, with end of semester work and practices and everything in between. It’s all you can do to just be there for each other. To just spend time together, even when you’re writing an essay and Oscar is trying to decipher math problems. It always feels better when you can feel him next to you.

“I’ve got time,” he says.

“It’s almost midnight,” you respond.

He shrugs again. “I’ve always got time for you.”

And. Well. There’s not much you can do to argue with that, not much you could say back. It sort of makes you melt, really. You let out a low breath and sink back against the arm of the couch, moving your laptop to the coffee table. There’s a loose thread on the blanket that lays over your knees, and you twist it around your pinky finger.

“It was, uh. One of my old teammates,” you say, focusing on the string around your skin, not wanting to look up at his face. “I went to a party with Max and Lando after I got off the crutches, and she was there, and she… yeah. Said a bunch of shit, called me a puck bunny. And back then, Max was a bit more hot tempered, and obviously he didn’t hit her but he started yelling, and then she started yelling, and then so did Lando, and we got kicked out of this party, and-“ you close your eyes, remembering the moment, when the three of you had tumbled out onto the lawn, into the cold air, and when they both turned to check on you- “it was all so absurd, so stupid, so- she was supposed to be my friend, you know? So I just started laughing. And Lando was looking at me like I was crazy, but then Max started laughing, too, and Lando dragged us both home and ordered pizza, and Charles was still up, so he heard the story. And the name stuck. Honestly, I like it. It’s a way to reclaim the insult, you know?”

You look up and find him watching you, drumming his fingers against his knee. There’s a soft, sort of sad look on his face. Your cheeks grow warm. He makes you feel so seen, in this way that feels a little overwhelming at times.

“You and Max have this thing in common,” he says. “You tell these borderline traumatic stories like they’re funny.”

You scoff. “Me getting mildly made fun of by an ex teammate is not on the same level as Max’s stories.”

Oscar blinks. “But it’s not about the level of it, right? And that was a low blow from her, after you’d lost your sport and your support system, to say that about the friends you’d made. I mean. I get that it’s funny or ridiculous, but. It’s okay if it hurts, too. It can be both.”

You stare at him for a couple seconds, a little in awe of him. Of his kindness, of how much he seems to care. You shift on the couch to crawl over to him, pressing yourself into his side and smiling when he wraps his arms around you and giggles. He sinks down onto the couch and pulls you with until you’re cuddled up together, a mess of limbs and blankets and comfort. He kisses your forehead.

“Thank you,” you say.

There’s more you could say, but you don’t think you need to. He knows you so well already.

“Anytime,” he says. “I mean it.”

Before he leaves the next morning, he digs through his backpack in your living room, brows furrowed. “Swear it’s- aha!” He exclaims, pulling something out of the depths of the bag.

He hands it to you carefully, gingerly, like he’s a little nervous. He’s smiling, though. You take the brochure, eyes widening when you see what’s written across the top.

“No pressure,” he says, so quiet and soft. “You said you wanted to find a connection to soccer again, and I saw this, and…” he shrugs. “Thought of you. We can talk about it if you want, or not at all, or-“

You interrupt him, because you think he might be on the verge of rambling a bit. You stare down at the brochure in your hand and smile. “Thanks, Osc. This means the world to me, you know that? You mean the world to me.”

His face breaks out into a warm grin, and you can’t help but kiss him. He smiles into it, the way he always does when you first press your lips to his. Like he can’t quite believe it. You know the feeling.

He’s off to Minnesota in just a couple hours. You’ll be on your way shortly after that. You slip the brochure into your already packed carry on with a warm feeling in your chest.

…..

The guys fly out together, but you and Lily head there separately. The hotel you’ve booked is near the rink, just to make things easier. Max is the one to get you both set up with tickets to the game, since he’s the captain, so they’re relatively good seats, with a good view. By the time the game day rolls around, you feel like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin. Lily seems to be the same. You have a little pregame in your hotel room, just to take the edge off, really.

The arena is cold, like most of them are. It feels strange. You’re so used to the home rink that this one feels new and weird and sort of wrong. You file down to your seats and try your best to take it in. You look down at the ice, where in just a little bit, your friends will be playing their hearts out. Your boyfriend will be playing his heart out. You feel nauseous, suddenly.

Lily grabs your arm and squeezes softly. “Your stomach?” You nod, and she smiles sympathetically. “Yeah. That’s normal. I get it every big game Alex plays in.”

You frown. “I’ve watched so many games, though.”

“It’s different when it’s someone you… care about.” She says.

Her suggestion for a cure to the nausea is soft pretzels, so the two of you make friends with your seat neighbors, leave your jackets there, and head off in search of warm bread. It doesn’t take long to find it. You take small bites of the pretzel as you wander the arena. They’re selling merch- jerseys and beanies and anything else you could imagine. Both of you stop to buy something, wanting to remember this. Lily picks up a t-shirt for Alex. You buy a beanie for yourself and a baseball cap for Oscar. She studies you carefully, but she doesn’t ask any questions.

You stop her just before you get out to the rink again, in the walkway to the seats. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

She laughs and reaches for your arm again, squeezing. “Babe, it’s not hard to figure out. But what you said at the apartment, after the last game- it’s the playoffs. If you’re superstitious about it… I can wait to confirm.”

You take a breath and nod. “Okay.”

“But as soon as this is done, I’m kidnapping you and making you tell me everything,” she says. She squeezes your arm again. “Also, I’m very happy for you.”

You melt. “Thanks, Lily.”

The two of you get back to your seats just before they take to the ice for warmups. You catch yourself holding your breath as you watch Oscar skate loops and patterns around the rink. He goes through his normal warmup routine, he chats with Max and Charles along the way, and then he takes a second, spinning slowly on the ice and looking up at the crowd. You wave when he faces you. You don’t expect him to see it, but then he waves back, and your heart stutters in your chest. Lily’s not looking, too focused on Alex. You let the moment take a little weight off your shoulders.

The team hasn’t made it to the semifinals since you became friends with them. There’s something strange about this atmosphere. There’s so much resting on the game. You feel like you can’t quite relax, and maybe you won’t be able to for the whole thing. Then the puck drops, and Max takes it down the ice, and they score within the first two minutes, and you start to wonder if you ever had anything to worry about.

They win, easy and beautifully, and keep a solid two goal lead on the other team the whole time. They’re through to the finals. You and Lily hug each other in the stands, and you think she’s crying. You think you are too. Oscar’s down on the ice, hugging his teammates. Max stands in the middle of it, talking it all in. Lando bumps into him, grinning. Your boys. They look so proud. You’ve never been more proud.

You tell them as much when you find them after the game. They don’t have a lot of time- Seb’s set a strict hotel curfew, and you probably won’t see much of them until after the last game.

Lando pulls you into a hug in the parking lot of the rink, his face pressed against your shoulder. “One more game,” he says, quietly, and your heart breaks.

“One more,” you say, as Max comes up and hugs your other side. “So we make it count, yeah?”

Lando’s done after the finals game. It’s the last of competitive hockey for him. Max will be off to another team, hopefully, but he’ll be a rookie instead of a team captain. This last game will hold so much weight for both of them. They’re tired and nervous and you can feel it seeping out of them.

“How about I sneak you guys some pizza?” You suggest, and Lando pulls away, face lit up. “Not exactly on the meal plan, but…”

Max pulls back with a grin. “One last data point for the pizza theory.”

“Yeah,” you agree, ruffling his hair before smoothing it off his forehead. You do the same to Lando. “I’m so proud of you two, you know that?”

Any other day, they’d tease you for being cheesy. They’d roll their eyes and duck their heads and do anything to get you to stop. But today, Lando pushes his head against your head, a bit like a cat, and Max smiles, all squinty eyes. You smile, too.

Behind them, Oscar’s leaning on a barricade, talking to Alex and Lily. You want nothing more than to run over and kiss him, but the playoffs aren’t done yet. He smiles softly at you, and you smile back.

You order the pizza to your hotel and then walk it over to theirs, because Seb would definitely not approve and he’s more likely to catch the pizza delivery guy. Max lets you know that they’re hanging out in one of the conference rooms, and gives you directions on how to get there. The boxes are heavy in your arms- Lily had offered to come with, but two of you together would be even more suspicious.

They’re having some sort of movie night- a way to wind down and celebrate before practice tomorrow and the final game the day after that. You knock on the door lightly and hold your breath. Someone shuffles behind the door and then opens it.

It’s Charles. He grins, widely, and doesn’t even make a comment when you peer over his shoulder. They’re watching something with racecars on a giant projector screen. You hand over the boxes.

“Hi,” Charles whispers. “Thank you for the pizza.”

“Of course,” you whisper back. You know you won’t be invited in- the superstitions are running high, now. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Charles grins. “Thanks. We will see you soon, yes? Oh, and- you should take the stairs down.”

You blink at him, but you figure he’s just worried about you getting caught by one of the coaches. You nod. “Okay. Tell everyone I said good luck, yeah?”

He nods, and then he shuts the door.

You head off for the stairwell at the end of the hall, figuring it’s better to play it safe than sorry. You nearly jump out of your skin when someone clears their throat when you open the door. You come face to face with your boyfriend, and you can’t help the smile that washes over your face. You understand the direction to take the stairs now.

“Osc,” you murmur, stepping closer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says, all pink cheeked and smiley. “You got my message, huh?”

You nod. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that Charles knows.”

Oscar nods. “I can’t stay long. They’ll get suspicious eventually, and… you know. But I wanted to see you.”

You smile and cup his face in both of your hands. He grins into the kiss when you press your lips to his. His hands fall to your hips, warm and broad, holding onto you to keep you both steady.

“You’re going to the finals,” you tell him, pinching one of his cheeks as you pull away. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

He blushes even more at that, eyelids fluttering closed. “Just one more game.”

“One more game,” you agree.

Your heart twists in your chest. You wonder if he’s feeling what Max and Lando are feeling too, though maybe to a lesser extent. Last game with this team. One last time on the ice. Do anything to make it count. You hadn’t known your last game would be the last game. Oscar has a whole season left after this one, but it still must sting, you know it.

You kiss his cheek. “Go hang out with your teammates. One more game. I got you guys extra breadsticks, but if you don’t get there quick Carlos will definitely eat them all.”

Oscar sighs, rolls his eyes, and kisses your forehead. “Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

He disappears into the hallway without a trace. You find that you miss him nearly immediately.

…..

When they take to the ice for the last game- of the playoffs, of the season, of their time as a team, as this team- they don’t look nervous. You can feel the nerves in every inch of your body, every hair standing up straight, every muscle tensed. You’re shivering, but not from the chill in the arena. They look calm, cool, and collected. You suppose that’s a good sign.

Lily grips your hand tighter than ever as you wait. Every second ticks by so, so slowly- the anthem, the announcements, the pre game warm ups. You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. Oscar’s down on the ice, running his typical warm up drill, the one you know all too well. Skate from one side to the other. Shoot 3 pucks. Skate back to the other side. Find Charles, who’s waiting. Fist bump. Helmet pat from Max. Deep breath. Shoulder shake. Okay, here we go.

You hold your breath through the entire first period. No goals. You swear you can see the sweat dripping from Alex’s brow in the goalie box, even from up in the stands. Lily’s taken to gripping onto the armrest now, after she squeezed your hand a little too hard and you yelped. You’re leaning forward, elbows on your knees, chin in your hands. Neither of you move during the period break.

They come back out onto the ice raring to go, ready as ever. The other team has two near goals. Max snatches the puck, finds a gap, takes off down the ice, and- he scores. You can’t even scream- it’s more of a sigh of relief, really. Next to you, Lily’s on her feet. You follow suit.

The other team follows it up with a goal of their own five minutes later. Lily winces when Alex hangs his head. You watch Oscar skate over to him, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. He’s come so far, really, from staying by himself at practices to this. It warms your heart.

You grab Lily’s hand and squeeze. “It’s okay,” you say, deciding to be sure of it. “This is it. They’ve got this.”

When the final buzzer rings out through the arena, you’re still holding her hand, fingers knitted together. You think she might be crying. You’re pretty sure you’re crying too. Nobody would blame you, really. There’s loud music playing, confetti flying through the air, and down on the ice-

A sea of blue jerseys, blue sweatshirts, Timberwolf blue, everywhere. Max is already holding the trophy, high above his head as he ping pongs back and forth between his teammates on the ice. They did it. You knew they would, but they really did. The Timberwolves are the national champions. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

By the time the two of you get your legs to work and make your way down to the ice, they’re already clearing the team off of it. They’re headed for the locker room, wide grins on their faces, yelling back and forth. Max is the first to spot you, followed by Lando- they’re sweaty and gross but you try not to make a face when they wrap you up in hugs- ones that are frankly uncomfortable with all their pads on.

“Bunny!” Max yells, basically in your ear. You’re searching the crowd over his shoulder, watching for Oscar. “We did it!”

You pull back and ruffle his hair, grimacing at the sweat. “I knew you would.”

Lando grins and knocks his shoulder against yours. “Yeah. Always been our biggest believer, huh?”

Your chest warms and tightens. You feel like you could cry again, but you’re smiling so, so wide. Oscar’s nowhere to be seen. He probably has no idea you’re even down here.

“We’re going to change,” Lando says. “And then we’ll see you at the bar down the street?”

You nod, sure your eyes are shiny. “Yeah, sounds like a plan. Time to celebrate.”

“One more time,” Max says. Lando nods.

“One more time,” you agree.

Lily finds you seconds later and tells you she got the same message from Alex. When you see Charles on your way out, you stop, tugging on his wrist.

“I couldn’t find him,” you say, hating how pained your voice sounds, how obvious it all feels. Charles smiles. “Can you tell him…”

“I’ll tell him you were looking and that you’ll meet us at the bar,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod. “Proud of you, Charlie.”

He grins and wraps you up in a quick hug. “Merci, lapine.”

…..

After a quick stop back at your hotel room to change and freshen up, you find them in the bar, nerves coursing through your veins. They’re easy to spot, decked out in playoff and Timberwolves gear. The song that’s playing is loud in your ears, but not loud enough to drown out your racing heart. Lily squeals and drops your hand when she spots Alex, taking off across the bar to get to him.

Oscar’s in the middle of the sea of people. He has a drink in one hand, and his other arm around Charles’ shoulders. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. His hair’s a half dried mess, his cheeks are flushed, and there’s a wide smile on his lips. He’s a national champion. Your national champion.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and it pulls you in like the tide. You cross the room, and he drops his arm from around Charles. If you’d been paying attention, you’d have heard Max yell your name, or seen Charles hold Lando back with an arm, or noticed Lily tugging on Alex’s arm to get him to look. You don’t, though. It feels like a movie, the way the whole crowd disappears. It’s just him and you. He hauls you into his arms when you get within reach, and one hand slip to hold your lower back as you wrap your arms around his neck. When his lips touch yours, the music and flashing lights fade away. All you can feel is Oscar, and the way he’s kissing you. He steals your breath away. From that very first day, when he walked into the house, bright eyed and new, to now- it’s all been leading up to this. He cradles your face in his hand and tugs at your lower lip with his teeth. You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair. And then-

You’re in a bar. Surrounded by your friends, his whole team. You’re pretty sure the coaches are here somewhere. You remember that, suddenly, when he pulls away abruptly. Your face is hot, his cheeks are red, but both of you are smiling. He’s so hot like this, oozing confidence and pride and you nearly lean in to kiss him again.

A hand appears between the two of you, and Oscar bursts into laughter. You turn and find Max and Lando standing there, looking utterly bewildered. You start to laugh, too.

“She has a boyfriend,” Lando scolds, eyes wide. “Bunny, you have a-“

Max rears his head back. “Lando, you are even more dumb than I am. He is the boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Lando says, though he’s in a bar so it’s more of a shout. “Oh! You fuckers, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Shots?” Carlos says, popping up next to Lando. He has a tray of shot glasses and limes in his hand. “Celebratory shots, anyone?”

You and Oscar both take one of the glasses eagerly, matching grins on both your faces. You cheers with each other and throw them back, reaching for lime slices at identical times, fingers brushing each other. You start to giggle again, feeling giddy. Carlos blinks around the circle at you and Oscar, and then his gaze settles on Lando.

“What is happening here?” He asks, jabbing a finger into Lando’s shoulder. “Lando, you look upset.”

“They’re dating,” Lando says, and Carlos is fighting a laugh, you can tell. “Each other. Apparently.”

“We will need more shots for this,” Carlos says, eyebrows raised. “I will be back.”

You and Oscar spend the next five minutes dodging slaps on the back and congratulatory hugs from the rest of his teammates- not on the win, but on your relationship. Carlos returns with more shots and Charles in tow. Charles, who’s got a wide grin on his face. You wince.

“I am so glad everyone finally knows,” Charles says, and both Lando and Max frown. “I’m very bad at keeping secrets, you know.”

“You knew?” Lando asks, blinking between you and Charles. “You told Charles first?”

Max reaches for a shot and throws it back as you start to explain. “He… figured it out. I didn’t tell him.”

Charles nods. “I am very perceptive.”

“But, but- we were looking for clues,” Lando whines, elbowing Max. “We had theories and evidence and— I almost bought a corkboard. And frickin’ Charles figured it out before us? And the whole time it was frickin’ Oscar?”

Max snorts and passes Lando a shot. “Mate, I think we are maybe just oblivious.”

Lando opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. He blinks at the shot glass in his hand. He holds it up and switches his gaze to your boyfriend, and then takes a deep breath.

“If you ever hurt her-“ he starts.

“Lando, we can give him the talk later,” Max interrupts. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Right now, we have a lot to celebrate.”

Lando rolls his eyes but nods. “True.”

You reach for one of the shot glasses. Everyone else follows suit, and you clink them together in the center. “To the national champions!”

“Hey, that’s us!” Lando yells giddily before he knocks the shot back.

Oscar deposits his shot glass back on the tray and pulls you under his arm. He’s not big on PDA- the kiss a few minutes prior being an adrenaline fueled exception- especially when being stared down by his team captain, your best friends. But the little bit of contact is nice. The heavy weight of his arm around you is comforting. Max turns and nods his head towards the bar.

“Alright, kids, first round of drinks is on me,” he says, grinning. “What will it be?”

He takes the orders, and Lando goes up to help him carry things. Lando gives you a hand motion, a vague sort of I’m watching you gesture. You roll your eyes. Oscar laughs. Next to you, so does Charles.

“This is all fun and games,” Charles says, pointing at Oscar, “until you have to ride back on the plane with them tomorrow. No escaping.”

Oscar pales and swallows tightly. You pat his back soothingly.

Max comes back with drinks and a grin on his face, Lando tagging along behind. It’s then that it hits you, square in the chest- their senior year, their last game, last chance, national championship. They did it. The thing they’ve been trying to do for years . Max is grinning so bright, so wide. Lando’s eyes are red rimmed like he’s been crying. They did it. You feel your own eyes start to well up.

“M’so proud of you guys,” you say, voice wobbling.

“Oh, shit,” Oscar mumbles, already rubbing your shoulder soothingly, studying your face. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“She’s only two shots in,” Max says, sounding fond. “It is early for her to be this weepy already.”

“Shut up,” you grumble. “I’m emotional.”

“We have time to be sappy later,” Max says, patting the side of your head. “Tonight, we celebrate.”

It’s nice, more than nice, really, to get to be with Oscar like this. To lean against his shoulder without fear of what anyone else is thinking. He makes you feel so bright. It’s something about the way he looks at you every time he tells a joke, already laughing, looking to see if you are too. His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and shining. When he leans down and kisses your cheek, you feel like you’re shining, too.

You dance badly with him to the bad music in the bar. You sit on barstools together and shout to be heard over the cacophony. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, because it’s with him. The two of you make the rounds with the rest of his team, and you tell them all congratulations on the win while they say the same about you and Oscar.

Logan grins and nudges your side. You ignore the fact that he’s far too young for this bar. “Should’ve known when you bought all that Australian food, huh?”

The truth is, you hadn’t even known then, not really. And yet, you think he might be right.

…..

Halfway through the night, you spot Max sitting in a booth in one of the corners, alone. You frown and nudge Oscar’s side, nodding your head towards the team captain. Oscar frowns, too, and shrugs. You frown deeper. He nudges your side, then, urging you towards Max. You lean up and kiss his cheek softly, giggling at the near immediate blush that rises up under his skin, and then head towards Max.

You slide into the booth across from him. He’s nursing a gin and tonic, and he gives you a smile when you sit down. It’s forced. You frown deeper still and tilt your head at him. It’s loud in the bar, but the sigh he lets out is big enough for you to hear it loud and clear.

“I’m fine,” he says, which is so obviously not true that you almost laugh. “Seriously, Bunny, go celebrate with your boyfriend.”

You’re a bit taken aback by the tone he uses, by the way he nearly trips over the word boyfriend. You blink at him. He sighs again and scrubs his hand harshly over his jaw.

“Talk to me,” you insist, knocking your glass against his lightly. “Come on, Max, you’re a national champion. You shouldn’t be pouting in the corner at your own party.”

He huffs, rolls his eyes, but his shoulders sag. “Everything is changing.”

You nod sympathetically.

“Everything,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s my last game, and soon it’ll be graduation and I’ll be leaving everyone, and Lando’s not even playing hockey after this, and you don’t trust me anymore, and-“

He tried to keep rambling, but you cut him off. “Max, what?”

He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s good, you know. To see you come out of your shell. I’m glad to know that when we leave you will have other people but- I know I look like my dad but I’m not him, Bunny. You could have told me,” he says, “and I would have been happy for you. I wouldn’t have called you a puck bunny. And I-“

You feel sick, all of the sudden. He called her a puck bunny last year. He did what? Max had a heated argument with his dad before he left after the game, one you heard about from Lando and in whispers between Charles and Carlos. The stress of everything is weighing so heavy on his shoulders, but for some reason this is the straw that’s breaking the camel’s back. You reach over and grab his wrist lightly.

“Max,” you say, emphatically. “We didn’t tell you because it happened on spring break and we wanted a little time just to ourselves,” you say, quietly. “And then it was the playoffs. Nothing changes during playoffs. My boyfriend has facial hair right now and I’ve put up with it because of the playoffs.”

Max looks up at you. A little anguish melts away from his face. “That is stupid superstition,” he says.

“Tell that to your beard,” you mutter. He laughs. “Max, you may look like him, but you are your mother’s child, through and through. I know who you are. That was never what it was about,” you say, shaking your head. “I just knew how important the championship was to the team. To you. To me. I didn’t want to do anything to mess it up.”

Max sighs and shakes his head. “Your happiness is more important than some stupid trophy.”

“I am happy,” you say. He’s lit up by the soft glow of a hanging lamp, and you see him smile a bit, something lighting up in his gaze. “Happier now that I got to tell you guys, but. He makes me really happy, Max.”

The grin that breaks out across his face is contagious. “Then that’s all that matters,” he says. “That’s all we’ve wanted for you since the day we met you.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or do a mixture of both. Max seems to sense it, and he reaches out to squeeze your wrist.

“Come on,” he says, nodding his head towards the bar, where Oscar is currently being interrogated by Lando. “We can be emotional later, yes? Right now, we have a championship to celebrate, and you have a boyfriend to celebrate with.”

…..

The night ends with you and Charles toting a very drunk Lando, Max, and Oscar back to your hotel. Lily had let you know ahead of time that she’d be heading back to Alex’s room with him, so yours is free. You’d much rather it was just Oscar coming back with you, but you couldn’t leave them all to Charles to watch over.

Oscar’s not a big drinker, not a heavy partier, but tonight he’s a national champion. You’d taken it easy and taken the responsibility off his shoulders. Now he’s leaning heavily against you as you walk back, his arm around your shoulders, his head knocking against yours. He’s rambling about something, words slurred. You’re nodding along like you can understand.

He stops on the sidewalk, mid sentence, even as Charles tries to corral Max and Lando out of the road. Your boyfriend turns to look at you, eyes wide and bright.

“I really like you,” he says, the clearest he’s sounded in at least an hour. “You know that, right?”

You laugh and press your hand to the side of his face. “Yeah, Osc. I really like you, too.”

He nods, reaching up to place his hand on your cheek, too. “You’re really cute. Can’t believe I get to call you my girlfriend. And I get to tell everyone now.”

You laugh and pinch his cheek. “You’re cuter.”

“Bunny!” Max yells from up ahead. “Stop eye fucking your boyfriend. You have the room key.”

You scoff. Oscar blushes. The two of you hurry down the sidewalk towards your friends.

You drag all of them up to your hotel room with you, because Max and Lando shouldn’t really be left on their own, you want to keep Oscar with you, and it would be rude to leave Charles out. They fumble into the room, full of giggles. Max flops down on one of the beds. Lando lands on the other.

“Nope,” you say, shoving at Max. “That’s my bed.”

Max grumbles but rolls over anyways, sliding onto the floor between the bed and the little balcony. You snort out a laugh. Oscar sits down on the end of your bed and grins at you, cheeks rosy. You smile right back at him.

“Hey. You two,” Lando says, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he has his face smashed against. “No sex while we’re in the room.”

“Oh my god,” both you and Oscar say at the same time. You tack on a “Shut up,” for added effect.

Charles rubs at his face sleepily. “I need to sleep.”

Everyone seems to agree with that. You crawl into bed, and Oscar follows, seemingly too sleepy to be apprehensive about it even though your friends are in the room. He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“G’night, champ,” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles back.

“We are all champions,” Max calls out from the floor.

“Go to sleep,” Charles says with a whine.

…..

You’re the one to get all four of them up the next morning, ready with coffee and pastries from the hotel lobby to try and fend off the hangovers. You hand Oscar the hat you’d bought for him the night before, and he takes it gratefully, shoving it down on his head to cover his messy hair. There are bags under his bloodshot eyes, but he’s grinning so wide. He’s subdued this morning- they all are, nursing the hangover of the century- but he still finds a second when nobody’s looking to pull you in with a hand on your hip and press his lips to yours. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you feel a little ridiculous for it, but when you pull away his cheeks are red, and you think maybe he’s feeling it too. The pride, mixed with getting to spend moments like these together. Celebrating together, recovering together. It’s all you’ve wanted.

You corral him, Charles, Max, and Lando out of the hotel room just before their call time to get on the bus. You walk them all the way to their hotel- it’s not far. Sebastian is standing outside, a baseball cap pulled low over his own eyes, clipboard in hand. He laughs when he sees the five of you.

“Carlos said you would have them,” he says, gesturing at all of you. He has one eyebrow quirked, like he’s trying to assess exactly what’s going on. “They are lucky their teammates were nice enough to gather their luggage. And, probably, that you were there to… take care of them.”

You shrug. “I’m not running a brothel or something, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“Jesus, Bunny,” Max says with a roll of his eyes.

Seb balks. “That is not what I was saying, because that would be weird and inappropriate.”

“Forgive her,” Lando says, patting Seb’s shoulder. “She had a hell of a night.”

“She did?” Max snarks, nudging your shoulder before he follows Lando. “Do you remember what happened when she walked into the bar?”

Charles laughs, shakes his head, and gets on the bus, too. You’re left standing there with Oscar and Seb. Oscar pouts- he’s not one for PDA, especially in front of his coach, it seems- but he pulls you under his arm and dashes a soft kiss against your forehead. It’s enough, for now. It’s more than you’ve had before, really.

Seb clears his throat. “Sorry, lovebirds,” he says, pointedly looking up at the sky. “We’ve got to go.”

“Good luck with them,” you say, nudging your shoulder against Oscar’s.

He nods, making a solemn face. “If I don’t make it back, you know who to investigate first.”

You nod. “Carlos, probably.”

Oscar laughs, eyes crinkled at the edges, and then he’s stepping away onto the bus. You feel the distance in your chest already. Then you hear his teammates start to holler and whistle at him, and you laugh. They wouldn’t do it if they didn’t love him.

Seb nods goodbye as he climbs onto the bus. Then he turns back over his shoulder, voice low, as he says, “you really brought him out of his shell. Thanks.”

The door closes before you can respond. It’s okay, though- you think it’s pretty plain to see, to anyone who’s ever looked at the two of you together- Oscar’s helped you just as much.

…..

note: thank you ALL so much for sticking with me & this story. i’ve got plans for one last part, but these next few weeks are going to be a bit hectic so please bear with me! tysm for reading, hope you enjoyed!!

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11 @tsireyasgf @si1ver06 @scopeiguess

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lukesandromeda · 3 months

Note

gimme ur fav luke headcanons 😏

DATING l. castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

a/n: hi soleil it spooks me what u will do with this information but i also got so carried away with this for some reason and i did in fact not proofread it

• he’s a thief. so obviously as soon as you point out something in the store, uttering a quick “that’s pretty,” he’s nodding and pushing you along to go to another section of the store, mumbling something like, “sure is.” so as soon as you’re not looking he’s breaking the tag off the item and sliding it into his back pocket because he knows that if you were to see him, you’d scold him for his habit.

and when he hands it over to you later without an explanation, you’re asking, “how did you buy this?” and when he looks away nervously, you’re quick to lecture him about why what he did was wrong—but he doesn’t care; he gets to see the smile and appreciation from you.

• hearing constant “i’m so sorry” when he comes late to hang out with you. he’s the head counselor and has so many responsibilities to the point that even begging mr. d to let him go and hang out with his girlfriend will never work.

so when he finally does have the time to hang out, he’s exhausted—beads of sweat from sparring evident on his forehead as he takes the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and tosses it to the ground.

and he’s trying to give you as much attention as he can as he shares stories from his day with you, but his adhd’s getting to him and his eyes are so, so heavy and—you finally ask him if he just wants to go to sleep, and he’s jumping out of bed and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes.

soon he’s back in bed with you, comfortable and grateful enough that the few time he gets with you is not as stressful as what he had to deal with before.

• omfg sparring is the worsttttt with him. he makes you schedule two whole hours, yapping about something like, “i’ll just tell any other kids who wanna practice to wait until tomorrow,” and you’re telling him how it’s not fair for you to take that practice away from someone else, and he’s rolling his eyes and leaving your cabin after pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “see you tomorrow.” when you do see him tomorrow, he’s already working on his footwork and smirks as you arrive. the next couple hours are brutal. there are no breaks. at that point, why did you even bring a water bottle?

because every time he has you pinned down and you’re grunting, your throat dry as you look over to your water, he tilts your head back to him with his sword and gives you a look that tells you to focus.

and every time he gets his touch on you, he’s ordering, “again.” he wins. “again.” he wins again. “again.” so many times that you repeat the same moves, and every time, his sword is lightly pressed against your chest and you’re muttering in surrender.

after the fifteenth time of hearing the word again, you drop your sword to the ground and shove him, knocking his sword out of his hands. you break down into tears of frustration, and he’s quick to explain to you that he’s not trying to make you angry—just teach you how to protect yourself.

• usually he’s the one to hold you in his arms and let you speak your mind; he’s usually your rock. but some nights, when maybe a new camper has gotten claimed, or maybe someone got a birthday gift from their godly parent, he’s laying in the crook of your neck as he suppresses his tears against the soft skin there.

he’s talking for hours, babbling about gods know what. you find yourself wondering: how did he go from talking about nick, his newest cabin mate, getting claimed as a child of apollo, to talking about what he would name a dragon? you didn’t mind, because at least now he’s not crying about his father and the stupid quest he’d sent him on.

eventually, after a long day of a fake smile and the stressful teaching of a six hour sparring class, he falls asleep, his last words of “i love you” resting on his lips.

• he’d been happy the entire night—the blue team, his team, had won capture the flag again. he’d had so much fun at the celebration afterwards, (or at least it seemed,) but now it’s time to get ready for bed. it’s 1:30 am, and you’re washing off your makeup in the bathroom mirror when luke comes in, reaching for another rag.

he stands next to you in the mirror, watching your reflection for a moment before his eyes flick over to himself. his jaw clenches, his eyes trailing up and down the left side of his face before he swallows and wets the rag.

he begins to wipe the dirt and grime off his face, slowing down when the cloth traces the scar on his cheek. he drops the rag in the sink and sniffles, walking out of the bathroom and into the bed. once you’re finished, you join him in your room and climb into the bed. you lay down, and he rolls over and rests his face in the crook of his neck.

you wonder why it feels weird for a moment, and then you realize he has his head tilted oddly so that the left side of his face is hiding in the crook of his neck. odd, you think, considering he’d been complaining about neck pain the day before. you lift his head up, hand tracing on his left cheek and he freezes, body tensing.

“luke?” you ask, your eyes searching for a reason to his odd behavior. you look at where your fingers are tracing; on the scar. you understand, and for a moment, you see his eyes fill up with tears.

you swallow and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his scar before resting your forehead against his. he closes his eyes with a pained expression. moments pass, and then he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time he doesn’t hide his scar.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x reader fluff #luke castellan x reader smut #luke pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x reader fluff #luke castellan headcannons

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g0ldenzinnie · 4 months

Text

Princess Treatment x NCT 127

Featuring: Nct 127 Hyung line Genre: Fluff, suggestive, sweet boys and a little of them being dom. Word count: 2.7k Note: Sorry for the delay but here they are, soon I'll publish the maknae line and then the Johhny fic. Hope you like it <3.

Taeil x cooking for you.

Even though he has the money to buy you a whole restaurant, he cooks for you every time he can. And I don’t mean cooking fried eggs and rice for dinner. I mean plates worth three Michelin stars. He would make you try new and extravagant things. However, every single one of them is cooked magnificent under his hands.

“Try this” He spoke, offering you a spoon with sautéed vegetables. You were sitting on the counter with your legs crossed. Watching your boyfriend getting inspiration. You bend over and eat his creation, being delighted with the result.

“Taeil, it’s so good.” You said smiling. He was looking at you determined. “Really? He asked looking at every detail of your expression to see if you were telling the truth. “Because I think it’s salty.” He says, trying another spoon, leaning his head and nodding. “Yeah, it’s salty.”

“Baby, it’s fine. Now can I help you please? I feel useless here.” You said getting down from the kitchen counter and facing the other vegetables he had on a kitchen board. But you couldn’t even touch them, since Taeil wrapped you in his arms and took you away from his working area. You tried to resist, but he made his grip stronger. Smiling at how cute you looked, trying to get away from his arms.

“You won’t move a finger my love. You are my princess after all.” He then leaves you on the door of the kitchen and places a kiss on your forehead.

“Now, please relax on the couch, watch your series and your dinner will be there in no time.” He said smiling brightly to you. You sigh and roll your eyes. “Fine. But next time, dinner’s on me.” You reclaim while you direct to the couch. But both of you knew Taeil would still cook for you anyway.

You were watching half of the episode of your series when Taeil arrives with two plates. He then comes with a fancy bottle of wine and two glasses. Maybe the dinner looked fancy, but you would still sit on the couch with the coffee table as your dining room.

That is the thing you loved about being with Taeil. He felt like home, a comfy and warm home. But still he would never make you feel ordinary.

You talk about everything, Taeil listening carefully as always, asking you questions about your day or the gossip of your workplace. His focus is completely into your words. As if it were some kind of sonnet. When you finished talking and eating, you tried to get up to clean up the dishes, but he stopped you, pushing you to the couch.

“Baby, at least let me clean the pl-” You were interrupted by a kiss on your lips. He smoothly takes the plate from your hands and leaves it on the coffee table. Guiding his hands now to your tights, going up slowly to your waist. “They can’t wait.” He said close to your lips with a playful smile. You chuckle before kissing him back.

Johnny x Princess Passenger.

Johnny's favorite dates were when you just got into the car and drove. It didn’t have to be somewhere in particular. He just needed you in the passenger seat, some music and the road. So, everything you asked for in the car was yours. You wanted to drive through? Right away. You wanted to put on the music? Ok for him. You wanted just to sleep? Bend the seat, he’ll be quiet.

For him, you could be doing anything and still love your company in the car. But he had one condition. As you know your boyfriend very well, he is very clingy. He needs to touch you to feel easy. And that includes even when you are in the same car. It can be touching your hand, or your thigh, or something else. Even though you love that about him, you would still tease him some days.

And today was definitely one of those days.

It was 10:00 PM, when Johnny called you. It was a surprise since you thought he would be working till late at night. “Hello?” You responded confused on the phone. “Let 's ride.” Your boyfriend responded with his usual excited voice. You can already imagine that playful smile on his face at the other side of the line.

“I thought you were working late.” You said while putting your shoes on. “Well, I am…” He said on the speaker. You try not to laugh, because you know your boyfriend. “And?...” You responded, making him continue. “Well, I escaped.” He confessed. You laugh. “Johnny, one day you will get fired.” You said getting up from your bed. You heard the laugh of Johnny through your phone.

“Just get your ass in my car. We’re going to get ice cream.” The thoughts in your head disappeared when you heard the magical word. “Yay! Ice cream!” So now you were in his car eating your favorite ice cream, hearing pitch perfect. Your life couldn’t get any better. “Give me some.” Johnny asked while driving. You handed him a spoon, and naturally like a professional he ate it with his eyes on the road. You found that so hot about him.

By instinct, he then leaned his head towards your hand. Looking for your caring, As I mentioned before, you were feeling a little playful. So instead of letting him feel your hand as you usually did, you removed your hand.

Him, completely confused, tries to catch your hand again. But you put it out of his reach, again. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” he asks, looking at you weird. “Nothing” you say while holding your laughter. He nods and tries another move, this time reaching your tight. His grip was firm and secure. You bite your lip, knowing that he is just trying to provoke you. You loved when he grabbed your tight like that.

But still you removed his hand. You let out a little giggle when your boyfriend again tried to touch you. Letting him know that you were just messing with him. So he decided to pay you back. This time he used a little more force into his grip. Leaving your skin with red marks. You hold a moan biting your inner cheek. Johnny smirking at your reaction.

“If you take out your hand one more time, I’m gonna have to pull over and punish you princess.”

Taeyong x Giving you flowers

It was believed that victorians gave the yellow tulips the meaning of “there's sunshine in your smile.”

This man would remind himself that every time he encountered you, he would have to give you flowers. And not just any kind of flower. Every time he gave you one, this would be different than the last one.

And every single one of them had a specific meaning. He would probably investigate what kind of flower is and the meaning of his color. And do you think these flowers come alone? No, no. There is always a little note with a rhyme he created just for you.

You were at your work cafe when you suddenly felt two taps on your shoulder and turned to find no one. You shrink your eyebrows, thinking you definitely feel someone calling you. To your surprise, you turned around and found a beautiful bouquet on your face. The man holding them was hiding behind them. But of course you knew who it was.

“Tae, I thought you were on practice.” You say holding the bouquet and finding Taeyong behind with a smile. “I was, but that doesn't stop me from seeing my princess.” You smile sweetly hearing those words and looking at the flowers.

They were beautiful yellow tulips. Taeyong, seeing your smile, grins for himself and says “That’s the smile.” You look at him confused, not understanding what he said. “What?” He shakes his head and just gets closer to you, placing a short and sweet kiss on your lips.

“Nothing baby, c’mon I only have 10 minutes.” He quickly takes your hand and runs to one of the tables in the coffee shop.

During those 10 minutes you talk about nonsense. Taboo topics like the gossip in your workplace and in his. Some drama that happened with the members, ending in another hilarious fight between Haechan and Doyoung.

You laugh when Taeyong tells you this, imagining the dynamic duo screaming like they usually do. But you didn’t notice the moment you started laughing, Taeyongs chest filled with the air, gasping at how beautiful you looked right now.

It’s just when you laughed, you took his breath away. It was like a hundred start lights were blinding him every time your smile appeared. And he was delighted by it. Without him noticing, he raised his hand to take yours.

His gaze softened, focusing on you and you only. You stop giggling and look at him confused. “What?” He shakes his head, smiling now. “Nothing just… I love you so much.” You smile and intertwine your fingers with his. “I love you too.” He responds smiling and leaning closer to kiss your lips, but he was interrupted by your boss.

“Y/n, stop smooching and get your ass back to work.” She says from the board. Your boyfriend giggles and looks at you mischievous. “Someone is calling you.” You sigh and nod.

You get up from the chair, grabbing the flowers. “Thank you.” He smiles and caresses your cheek. “Of course princess.” He kissed you and left waving his hand like a little kid. You waved him back and went back to work.

Afterwards, when you were alone and more calm, you checked the card that was attached to the flowers. When you read the message you blush and feel a warmness in your chest.

"Her smile shines like rays of sunlight on a gloomy day, just like an angel, with every smile, she shines away the rain clouds, making my heart sway.”

Yuta x dress you.

This might be understood as he chooses all of your clothes, but no. He literally dresses you. He must put on your clothes all the time. Zip your dress, put on your hoodie, lock your necklace, anything.

But his favorite thing in the whole world is to tie your heels. He has something with your legs, So whenever he finds an opportunity, he touches them. And you knew it, so you used it every time for your own pleasure.

One night, you were preparing yourselves for a gala party of the company. Yuta was tying the aces of his shoes on the bed, wearing a black suit that fit him in a way that should be illegal. The first two buttons of his black blouse were open, making his chest clear to the open. You bite your lip, watching your sexy boyfriend being totally naive of his reaction to you.

So, since this morning you have been feeling a little… playful, you decided to tease him a little. You walked smoothly to him, Yuta still unaware of your presence. Just when you were in front of him, he raised his gaze.

“What’s wrong darling?” He asked softly. You smiled in return, looking down at him. Slowly you raised your leg, leaving it discovered because of your black long leg cutout dress, until your heel was between his legs, pressed against the mattress.

You gave him an innocent look, that both of you know it was fake. Still, he smiled wide looking at you up and down. He loved this act of yours. You smile in response and ask softly. “Would you help me baby?”

He analyzes your leg, going down slowly, finishing in your unwrapped heel. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re trying to provoke me, princess?” He says before straightening to have a better posture. You just shrink your shoulders. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He giggles at your act of innocence.

His hand went to your leg slowly. Caressing your calf with his thumb, sending you chills to your core. He then reached out for your heel. Tying it like a professional, since he has done this so many times.

After finishing, he gets close to your ankle leaving a soft kiss on your skin. You chuckle at the sensation, making your boyfriend have his known playful smile. He tapped your leg twice. “The other one, please”.

You obey him by changing the leg. He makes the same process. His thumbs moved gently, like your skin was made of glass. You close your eyes, feeling relaxed and aroused by his movements. As you always did.

But you suddenly feel a little puncture on your leg. You let out a little scream and open your eyes, to find Yuta giggling. He had just bitten you. You gasp looking at him outraged. “Meany” You say smiling. “Teaser” He responds by getting up quickly, wrapping you in his arms and starting to kiss your neck.

You giggle and try to stop him. "Baby the gala." He separates and smiles playful. "Don't think you're getting away with this. The night has just started princess."

Doyoung x pays for everything

This man doesn’t even let you take out your wallet. You find amazing the ability Doyoung has to pay that fast. Whenever you try to pay, he already has his card in his hand, saying that “he got it.” It happens in restaurants, fairs, malls, even in gift shops. You can’t escape Doyoung’s money.

Even when he was not present.

You were facing yourself in front of the hairdresser mirror. With your new haircut, that you would still be trying to settle with. You wanted a change for this year, so you thought that your hair would be the perfect victim.

“So what do you think?” Your aunt asks, owner of the hairdresser. You always got your hair with her. She had an undisputed talent.

“It 's amazing. Thank you auntie.” You respond, getting up from the chair. “So how much do I owe you?” You turn around, facing her. When you do, you find a nervous face. Shrinking eyes and a tense smile.

“Yeah well, about that…” You look at her confused, but in just two seconds you got your answer. “No he didn’t” You say angry. Your aunt gives you an expression of defeat. “I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. And he gave me, well, a good tip.”

Of course he did, you thought. You thanked your aunt once again and went directly to your shared apartment you had with your boyfriend downtown. Knowing he would be there, to finally face him.

After a 10 minute walk, you finally reach your apartment, finding Doyoung on the couch. He gave you a wide smile, analyzing your look and instantly loving it. “Someone is looking gorgeous.” He says flirty getting up to embrace you with a hug.

“Thanks to you.” You say in a not so motivated way. He separates from you, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“You paid my aunt for my haircut.” He didn’t change his confused look. “So?” He asks you. You sigh and separate to go to the kitchen. “I wanted, for once, to pay for something by myself.” You turn quickly. “It’s not that I’m not thankful.” Doyoung shrinks his eyebrows. “Good, because you don’t seem like it.” You close your eyes in desperation.

“That is not what I wanted to express.” You pause for a moment, and sight. “I just… I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You feel your chest heavy, finally confessing that you felt guilty everytime he wasted his money with you.

But for him, it wasn't a waste. He got close to you, slowly to not scare you. You long for an exhausted or tired face on your boyfriend. But you only find a sweet and dearing face. Doyoung takes your face gently, caressing your cheeks with your thumbs.

“My princess, you can use me in any way you want.” He got close and gave you a peek on the lips. “It will never bother me.” You giggle and shake your head. “That doesn’t make me feel better.” You respond, wrapping your arms around your neck. He chuckles and gives another kiss on the lips. This one is deeper and stronger. He separates, giving you little kisses on the cheek and starts to talk in your ear.

“Maybe you’ll feel better when we go out and eat in a nice restaurant. So everyone can see that new haircut of yours.” You smirk, taking your boyfriend's face, for him to see you. “At least let me pay for dessert.”

He then smirks and leans his forehead against yours. “You are the only dessert I need.”

#nct #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #127 #moon taeil #nct yuta nakamoto #doyoung #lee taeyong #taeyong nct #johnny nct

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sleepyangelkami · 5 months

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hi babe <3 can you write a fic where ellie takes care of drunk reader that’s all cute and fluffy?

DRUNK ON LOVE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - someone has just a little too much to drink on a night out under the lookout of dina woodward leaving ellie to take care of a sloppy, romantic but very drunk you.

☆ WARNINGS - not set in tlou universe, drinking, intoxication, parties, throwing up, feeling sick, crying, insecurity, dealer!ellie, mentions of drugs, sexual reference sorta, petnames, slight tiny tiny tiny mention of abuse and pedophelia (not really), use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you didn't drink, not really. usually at parties you were sitting at ellie's hip or atop her lap, drinking sips out of the drink she had. whether it was a bottle of bear or a couple of cans. you didn't really care, not having much love for the tangy taste anyway. more often than not, you didn't leave her sight, barely drinking a couple sips.

tonight, not so much. ellie had left you in the guidance of her good friend dina woodward, your best friend. she saw your happy smiles to see her and thought nothing of it. tonight, she had deals to do, people to sell weed to. she knew you didn't mind when she did it in front of you but she didn't like to, she thought your pretty eyes didn't need to see her doing such things.

the party had been going great. ellie knew how the college raves could be, she'd sell a little more expensive than usual because she knew the innocent college students had no idea how much it normally cost. she knew it was a little unfair but she still ended up with extra cash in her pockets.

she'd made a third more than usual that night, a smirk falling on her lips as she thought of you and the much appreciated clothes she'd be surely buying you soon enough, maybe even some of that cute lingerie she liked.

tonight, you'd been dressed in a short white dress, sort of tight but loose around the bottom of the long sleeves, sort of flowy. your hair was in two half up pigtails with ribbon strewn across it.

she'd barely been able to keep her hands to herself before you guys left.

while counting the bills in her hand, she couldn't help but grin to herself. even when you weren't around, she couldn't help but think of you. it was as if you plagued her mind. no, plagued didn't seem like the right word because that would insinuate that she didn't want to think of you.

the sound of a familliar laugh pulled her from her thoughts as she whizzed around, eyes finding jesse's. "oh, hey jesse." she spoke, pocketing the cash in her back pocket. she had made money tonight, that was for sure.

"hey, ellie." glancing up and ready to tell her what his chuckles had been all about. "dude, you should let her get drunk more often, she's so fucking funny." this caused ellie's brows to furrow. let who get drunk? she wasn't in charge of dina nor did she want to be. "your girl with vodka―" he cut himself off with another laugh, wiping his face. "unstoppable, dude."

ellie's face must then do something horrid. the colour drained from her face instantly, her cheeks turning a hollow white. "what?" she questioned, worry filling her. "y/n's drunk?!"

ellie had never seen you drunk, never thought of it either. you didn't seem like the type to get drunk, especially at some little party like this. you didn't smoke nor drink and if you did it was usually for some big event, not that you'd ever touch the weed ellie sold. always mumbling things about how the weed 'smelled gross' or the whiskey she was leaving you take sips of 'tasted disgusting' you'd once compared drinking to completely burning the inside of your throat. you drinking simply isn't something she thought she'd see, let alone have to stop. she never worried about your alcohol intake seeing as you'd never been one too eager to drink more.

before she knew it, her feet were rushing down one of the narrow hallways. her converse hit the white carpet and a couple faces glanced her way, wondering why she'd been in such a rush.

everyone on campus knew ellie williams, the infamous dealer who gave the best weed for the best price. they were no stranger to her face or her body but now, as alcohol, weed and who knows what else consumed them, they could barely recognise her.

her fingers clamped down on one of the doorhandles. jesse had informed the girl that you'd been staying in one of the bedrooms, dina had brought you here knowing that the owner of the house and a couple of her friends were all playing some drinking games.

ellie cursed herself, she should have known better than to leave you under the guidance of dina woodward.

when the door opened, she expected silence, sort of surprise to see her bursting through the door. that, though was exactly not what she was met with.

the music was still very much loud inside the room, discarded cans on the ground and bottles in the air being chugged from. girls and guys were in the room, some sitting on the couch, most on the floor, some standing and drunkenly dancing. but ellie's eyes didn't care for the half naked girls or the hazy looking guys. her eyes needed to find yours.

and surely enough, there you were.

you didn't have a drink in your hand but judging by the position you were in now, laying flat on your back on the bed with your dress sort of hiked up, mumbles falling from your lips and fingers playing with the strands of your hair. you looked confused, eyes red and pupils large, you looked completely out of it. your hair was sprawled all across the bed, up in the air as you tugged on it, swirling it between your two fingers. two girls, anna and kate, ellie believed were their names, couldn't stop laughing at whatever you were confusedly mumbling. it was clear that both the girls were very much intoxicated too.

dina was the first to notice that she'd entered the room. "ellie, have you come to join us?" a smirk dancing on her lips as she swayed lightly. there was a bottle of beer pressed close to her wet lips.

"dina." ellie groaned, her eyebrows pinching together. dina looked sort of buzzing but not drunk, not nearly as much as you were, at least. "how much did you give her." perhaps you were just a lightweight or perhaps you drank more than you thought you could handle. whatever the case, you looked more drunk than anyone else in that room.

"uh, i don't know?" glancing back to your figure. "relax, ellie. it's a part, you're supposed to drink." ellie knew this, she knew there was no harm in having a little fun. but she also knew how you could get. it may be fun in the beginning but sooner or later you'd feel all floaty and icky. "she drank some before and after the games, let's see... we played truth or drink, she drank some in that. we played never have i ever, spin the bottle, oh and they have this really cool pool table so we played beer pong―"

"wait, wait." ellie cut dina off. dina looked up, thinking she was going to ask more about the pool table. "spin the bottle? as in she was kissing people too?" for a second, ellie's heart chipped, slowly tearing in half.

"no, no, no." dina was quick to put that heart back together again. "you see, the bottle kept landing on her and she kept going on about 'els' or something, flat out refused to kiss anyone." her lips were moving and her head shaking, dina's hand finding home on ellie's shoulder. "so she had to drink, you know, i think that's the most she drank in, actually―"

"els!" you were already jumping up from the bed, spotting your pretty, also concerned, girlfriend standing near the doorway. dina moved out of the way, letting you engulf your girlfriend. soon after, dina's name had been called and she was a laughing mess, stumbling over to one of the girls. "missed you."

"missed you too." ellie was quick to respond, not ignoring the way your body practically melted into her own. "had a little too much fun, did you, baby?" her fingers moving towards your chin, turning it upwards so she could look at you.

you were a smiling mess, small giggles emitting your mouth with a wide simper on your face. "dina said i could." as if you had to ask anyone permission anyway. though, if you did, you were sure that the only permission you would seek would be ellie's. you sort of just assumed ellie had told dina this.

ellie gave you a pointed look. "dina's a little shit." glancing to her friend that was now dancing. she'd leaned your chin up to look at your eyes, taking in the way your pupils looked so enlarged, your eyes a misty red. "c'mon, let's go home, angel."

at that, a pout formed on your lip. "don' wanna go home." ellie breathed in quickly, knowing this would be harder than she thought. "'m having fun, els." though you really weren't. the entire night, you'd been in desperate need for her comfort, but this was where the alcohol was. and it was safe to say that you were rather enjoying this buzz.

ellie sighed, eyes narrowing in on you, not a glare, a soft look that looked almost exasperated. "how about this, we go home and i get you some ice cream then we watch the swan princess in bed, hm? how's that sound?" the swan princess was just about your favourite movie ever. and you really did want some ice cream. ellie could see the way your face was contemplating your choices. "if we stay, you're not allowed to drink anymore anyway." not with her around, that was for sure.

your brows pinched together, pout jutting out. "you're so mean."

"so mean." ellie mumbled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "let's go home, yeah?"

"lemme say goodbye to dina." you mumbled, already trying to get out of her hold.

but ellie was quicker, she held a tight grip on your arm, already leading you out of the room that stunk of alcohol. "you'll see her tomorrow." she spoke, doing the very same when you said you wanted to say goodbye to jesse. ellie was no stranger to leaving parties, it went the same way every time. at first, it'd be a little goodbye to one of your close friends then they were begging and pleading for you to stay, roping you back in when you didn't want to be there. in some situations, that irish goodbye was just simply a better choice, this was one of the many situations.

by the time ellie had made it to the front porch, your arm was no longer in her hand but you were simply interlinking your fingers with hers. ditzy as ever, she watched as you turned your head up at the pretty stars, completely entranced.

you were beautiful, from your strongest features down to your biggest of insecurities. the way you looked up at the sky, tight lipped and breathing slightly heavier through your nose, she couldn't help but smile. everything about you was captivating, she was completely and utterly entranced by your every feature.

but of course, all beauty is strange.

she watched as you let her hand go, falling abruptly and slumping against the grass of the front garden. with slightly wide eyes, she crouched down to meet you. "hey, hey, what's goin' on?"

though the air had hit you much harder than you'd been anticipating, making your head feel all the foggier. "don' wanna walk." eyes blinking heavily, avoiding ellie's at all cost. with furrowed brows, you stared at one of the young guys that had been getting sick in a bush, you cringed, turning away.

ellie sighed slightly, realising there had been nothing really 'wrong' and it was merely you drunkly babbling. "jus' gotta make it to the car, honey."

but you were already whining, your hands twisting in your hair. "but that's... so far." glancing to ellie's truck that sat... not even ten feet in front of you. ellie always parked up real close to the house. giving in, ellie slipped her arms underneath your legs. "what are you doing?"

"pickin' you up, baby." and she did just that. she picked you up off the dewey grass that could have been wet with... anything really. her hands under your legs, other against your back as she carried you towards the car.

she maneuvered you into the car carefully before leaning over you, clicking the belt in place. you almost giggled at this her treating you like a baby. she pressed another kiss to your cheek before closing the door. you watched with loopy eyes as she walked around the truck, opening up the drivers side door. "you know, i could have drove us home?" you slurred, eyes not even looking the right way.

ellie huffed out a scoff. "you're so drunk." she'd seen you slightly tipsy before but this? this was truly unheard of. "there's no way i'd let you behind a wheel."

"'m not drunk." you argued, she scoffed again, glancing down at you. "on love, maybe." giggling in a weird tone. this was before you let your head drop, slamming it against the dashboard on accident. a loud slam could be heard and with wide eyes, ellie looked down at you again. "ow." you mumbled, not moving from your position.

"jesus christ." ellie breathed. "idiot." she also added. "you okay, sugar?"

"peachy." you yawned against the dashboard, picking your head up. you couldn't help it, it felt so heavy on your shoulders. you reached your hands up, grasping the mirror of the passenger seat, shoving it down to look at your now awfully discoloured forehead. "'s gonna bruise so bad." you could already tell. you huffed out a giggle, glancing to your concerned girlfriend who, with both hands on the steering wheel, was trying to keep her eyes on the road. "they're gonna think you hit me."

she gave you an awful look, brows pinched together and mouth open. "why would you even say something like that?" you just shrugged, sitting yourself back on the seat. perhaps you were too drunk to feel your own body right now but one thing was for sure, by morning, you'd definitely be feeling that pain on your forehead. "such a child." she rolled her eyes.

"hey!" you instantly defended as the car rolled into the driveway. thankfully, you didn't live too far from the party. "if i'm a child 'n you're dating me then you're a pedophile, wanna add that to the list? abuser, pedo―"

"how about we just get you inside, huh?" she quickly tried to change the subject.

"never fail to surprise me, william." not even saying her last name right. you almost snorted. "edward william, can i call you that?"

"you most certainly can not." before exiting her side of the truck. soon enough, she was back at your door, helping you out. you didn't need her assistance as much this time, walking with your own two legs though she still kept her hands around your waist, holding you upright. the first groan and hands to your stomach, ellie had you sitting on your knees by the toilet. she was not taking any chances tonight. "how you feeling, pretty girl?"

not entirely realising she'd been on about your stomach, you looked up, your eyes strained on your ring that danced on your fingers, pretty, silver and dainty. ellie'd gotten it for you. "floaty." is all you responded with.

her fingers were flat against your back, rubbing up and down gently. "think you'll get sick?" because as soon as you'd both walked in the door, you were complaining about your stomach. no more ice cream for you.

you turned your head up at her, confused, still very drunk expression on your face. "anna got sick?" your friend that had been laughing at you earlier.

ellie rolled her eyes. "nobody got sick, baby." realising you were still much to out of it to be answering her questions. "you wait by the toilet and i'm gonna get you some jammies, 'kay?"

"okay, els." grinning up at your gorgeous girlfriend before laying your head down on the toilet seat. she made sure you didn't see her cringe as you'd think it was directed at you and not the fact that your face was on your guys' toilet. sober you would have never even thought of doing such a thing. but ellie could tell you were too out of it to even think.

when she returned, she had in her hands a light pink jammie bottoms, darker pink hearts littered around it. the material was sort of sheer seeing as it'd been one of those hotter nights. she also held a white vest, knowing you'd be too hot to wear any shirt over it. how ellie ended up crouched in front of you and taking off your makeup? she didn't know. yet somehow, that was what she was doing. "so pretty." she mumbled as the cloth took the last stroke against your face. what had been hard was taking off all that mascara. but ellie had seen you in many different ways, lights, places and sides. you were truly and utterly breathtaking.

you hadn't brought it up again until you were sat in the bed, bin on your lap as ellie stat up right next to you, hand once again comforting your back as you felt a wave of nausea. "you really think i'm pretty?" waiting for the nausea to pass.

ellie's eyes softened in on you. you knew she thought you were pretty, she couldn't deny the way her lips curled up at the 'fishing' you'd been unintentionally doing. "so pretty." she mumbled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "everything about you."

"bump 'n all?" you joked.

"bump and all." she mumbled back, a grin on her lips.

you couldn't help the way you leaned into her chest covered by her sleep shirt. "you're the prettiest." but as soon as the words left your mouth, she took notice of how your face changed, looking sort of green.

"in the bin, baby, in the bin." turning your head and already holding your hair up into a makeshift ponytail. she tried not to cringe as you found yourself getting sick into the bin, merely frowning as she rubbed up and down your back with her free hand, you holding the bin upright. perhaps it was best that you got sick, at least now the nausea may stop. "i know, darling, i know." hearing your pitiful whines and whimpers. you hated nothing more than getting sick. "doin' so well."

suddenly you were back in the bathroom, standing against the door despite her many protests for you to stay in bed. you watched as she cleaned the bin or 'basin' out in the sink. "'m sorry, els." with tears burning at the edges of your eyes.

"what? no, no, no." already discarding the bin as her hands came up to your face. "don't cry, you've nothing to be sorry for."

but you had everything to be sorry for. "ruined your night." you whimpered out, hugging the girl close. "'n now you have to clean everything 'n 'm not even helping."

"'cause you need rest, mlove." she hated the way she couldn't see your pretty face peeking out, heart aching at the fact that your eyes were stained with tears. "you didn't ruin my night at all, you know i love taking care of you." and it was so true. ellie adored taking care of you, watching the way you'd go soft and completely turn to putty. she liked knowing that she was there to piece you back together when you couldn't.

"b-but―" ignoring the way the fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

"no buts." she moved your head to look at her, hair matting down at the sides. "i love you so much and i love taking care of you but right now you need to be in bed, resting up and drinking some water," she'd left a glass on the nightstand. "so that you don't feel icky in the morning." because as much as she loved taking care of you, she still hated to think you felt bad.

you merely sniffled. "love you too." mumbling as you glanced down at your sock covered feet, suddenly feeling shy.

ellie couldn't help but smile at you. "you better." leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead.

"please don't touch my forehead."

"right, dashboard, sorry."

"tryna hurt me―"

"i was not―"

"abuser―"

"can you shut up?"

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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himbofan4444 · 7 months

Text

“Another day…” I say to myself as I walk through the parking garage. The is air still damp from the rainstorm yesterday. I look around. The garage is oddly vacant. Perhaps I’d come in when the buildings closed again. Determined to finish the day and get home quickly, I trudge past the puddles and cigarette butts. “God it’s freezing,” I say to myself, shivering.

I look around again. I’m used to a long walk to the stairs but today’s feels… really long. I can’t see my car but that’s all thanks to the thick fog that has been settled in town for a few days. I can’t see the stairwell either. The only thing I can see is the fog surrounding me. I sigh and continue my trek forwards, unsure if I’m even moving forwards anymore.

After a few more minutes of walking, I stumble upon an odd sight. In front of me is a shopping booth, something I’ve never seen the liking of before here. A faint concoction of aromas reach my nose: a strange mix of perfume, wood, leather, and some other implacable scents. At the booth stands a broad man. On the table, there are a variety of brightly colored liquids contained in erlenmeyer flasks. The man waves me over, a toothy grin across his dark, bearded face.

“Well hello there fine fellow! How can I help ya?” the man asks. His voice is gravelly and deep, the kind of voice that makes you weak in the knees.

“Oh, I’m not interested in buying anything, sir. I’m just trying to find the stairs,” I respond.

The man lets out a hearty laugh, “Please, call me Rohan! And I insist. I’ll even give you a hefty discount.”

I eye the flasks, taking in the colorful liquids. Each is bubbling and emanates an odd warmth, much preferable over the freezing air of the rest of the parking garage. “So, what are they?” I ask.

“Oh, just some herbal remedies. They’re very common in holistic medicine,” Rohan says, lifting up to of the flasks. “Would you like one, sir?”

“Oh I’m not sure if I should. I’ve tried these things before and they haven’t… agreed with me,” I say, letting out a small chuckle.

“Don’t you worry about that, sir. These are all natural. I insist, try one. Here,” Rohan picks up a pink one and holds it out for me. I reluctantly grab it and give him a half-smile. “That’ll be $5, sir,” Rohan says as he holds out his large palm. I search through my wallet and find a crumpled up $5 bill and hand it to him. He smiles and says with a certain satisfaction, “Have a lovely day, sir!”

I walk off with the flask in hand, still unsure of where the stairs are. I check my phone for the time. Shit! I’m late! I briskly walk through the parking garage but to no avail. I’m still lost. At least until I see my car. Damnit! I just walked in a big circle! Exhausted and angry, I get in my car and sit down. The car is almost as cold as outside, a small remnant of the heating still present. I start the car, deciding to head home.

Before I can put my foot on the gas pedal, my gaze drifts down to the flask in the passenger’s seat. “I should probably drink that…” I say to myself. I reach down and grab it, bringing the beverage to my lips. It smells like perfume. I lift the flask, the contents of which pouring into my mouth and down my throat. It’s almost unbearably sweet. So much so that it’s almost bitter. There’s also a strange salty aftertaste. I cough and drink from my water bottle, the flavor lingering in my mouth.

I drive home in silence, allowing myself to be bitter about today’s events as of now. As I drive home, I notice an odd, unfamiliar tingling in my butt. I itch it but it doesn’t help. “Maybe I just worked legs a little too hard yesterday,” I say with a shrug. Soon, my whole body feels tingly, almost numb. My work clothes begin to feel a bit tight on my body, specifically my pants. I’m sure I grabbed the larger size I have but maybe I didn’t. This morning was quite hectic after all. I shrug off the odd occurrence and continue my drive home.

On the way home, I pass a Starbucks and turn into the parking lot. I usually don’t buy such frivolous things, but I’d already bought that horrible drink so why not? As I walk inside, I notice a strange quality to my walking. Usually I have a quite confident strut but that has been replaced by something almost like a waddle. Odd.

Once inside, I’m finally warm. The warmth of the store is so refreshing. Before ordering, I sit at a table by the window. Sitting here feels weird. I’m not used to this amount of cushioning on these chairs but maybe I misjudged them. I take off my winter coat, setting it on the high top table in front of me. I catch a glimpse of my arms in my tight dress shirt sleeves. Jesus! I’ve always been in shape but I’ve NEVER been this big. I flex a small bit, blushing at my public flexing session. Damn, the gym’s been doing me good recently.

A short blonde barista walks over to me. She’s very cute but my still bitter attitude puts a damper on my lustful looks. She pulls out a notepad and a pencil, “Would you like anything sir?”

“Oh no-“ I clear my throat. My voice sounds less deep than normal for some reason. “I mean, sure. Could I have a vanilla latte?” Why did I order that? I always order black coffee, never that girl shit. The barista smiles and nods, writing my order down, “Got it. Is that all?”

“Yes ma’am,” I respond. Handing her the money for the beverage.

She walks off, immediately going to make my drink. I rub my throat. Why do I still sound so weird? She comes back over, my drink in hand. “Here you go sir,” she says, “Oh and by the way, I love your hair. Blonde is so your color. You look fabulous.” She walks away to serve other customers.

What? Blonde? I’m not blonde. I’ve always had brown hair. And… fabulous? Who does she think I am? One of those queers? Does my hair really look blonde to her? I pull out my phone and look at myself in the selfie camera. Jesus! My hair IS blonde! And it looks… curly. What the hell happened?! And my face… It looks off. Something is uncanny about it. I look like myself but also not… Like my lips look bigger and so do my eyes. My eyebrows look a bit neater than they should and my stubble is shorter than normal.

I get down from the stool, ready to leave and deal with this weird stuff at home. As I walk out, I feel a strange jiggling in my rear. I crane my neck around my shoulder to see what was going on with my butt. Holy shit! My ass is huge! I run out to my car, my big fat ass jiggling like crazy as I run. I quickly drive home.

Once inside, I strip off my damp clothes to assess the damage. My muscles do look bigger than normal, especially my pecs. They look like fucking tits. Jesus, they’re huge. My ass is enormous, any movement causing it to jiggle wildly. And that tingling in my ass still hasn’t gone away. I look like a poster fag. Like the dictionary definition of a faggot. Fuck…

I go up to my room and find a cardboard box on my bed. After opening it, I see a huge pink dildo and a pink jockstrap, both the same color as the drink. The dildo is easily a foot long. I shiver in disgust looking at the items. An odd feeling comes from my ass. My ass is tingling worse than before, specifically directly in my asshole. God I just wanna shove that dildo up my ass… No! I can’t be thinking like a fag! Looking like one is bad enough!

I shove the grotesque items back into the box and chuck the box across the room. I look at myself in the mirror, hesitantly touching my pouty lips. They feel almost numb, as if they aren’t real. Come to think of it… I feel my pecs and my ass, both having the same numb tingling. Oh my god…

My body stiffens up, my back arched, showing off my large muscle tits and fake fuckable ass. Goddamn why am I thinking like that? Against my will, my buff arms reach up and turn my baseball cap, which had gone from a cream color to a black and pink one, backwards. It’s like a switch got flipped. My brain goes from active and agile to slow and dull. MY thoughts become more lustful and… gay.

Damn, I wish Rohan fucked me earlier. He like totally has a huge dick. I pout, crossing my arms across my inflated chest. My heads turns, facing the discarded box. My body prances over to the box and extracts the faggy… I mean sexy things. I pull the pink jockstrap over my big round ass, doing a few hops to see my bubble butt bounce in the elastic material. I snatch up the massive dildo and lay in my bed, my thick beefy legs spread out. My body instinctively shoves the dildo as far up my ass as it can.

My hole feels oddly loose despite the lack of penetration it’s received. My brain pushes those thoughts into the garbage, conjuring up new memories of me being fucked by hoards of men, each hung like a horse and concerningly aggressive. I let out shrill, feminine moans with each thrust of the toy. Each thrust causes my room and house to become more pink and slutty looking. My wardrobe emptying of my work clothes and instead having pink slutty outfits. My bed begins vibrating, my old bed replaced with a vibrating one.

I cum out of my shrunken cock, my small load leaving me gasping for air. I’ve never felt this much pleasure in my whole life! I sit on my knees in front of the full length mirror in my room and take a picture for my Daddies.

This is me now, a stupid, horny, bouncy slut for any man who’ll take me in for the night.

#straight to gay #top to bottom #gay tf #gay #tf #transformation #dumber tf #dumber #himbo tf #himbo #musclegrowth #muscle growth tf

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Baby formula was expensive, and Eddie knew the fact that half of the container being spilled on the counter would probably cause Steve to have a heart attack.

It was an accident, obviously. He didn’t just decide to dump half of the powdered gold that fed their newborn daughter on the kitchen counter.

And Steve wouldn’t be mad about it. He didn’t get mad about accidents.

But he would definitely spiral about how that was two days’ worth of bottles for Ella and how they had a budget.

Eddie told him many times they were fine. He had more than enough money in savings from the band’s success, and he knew Steve had his own trust fund that he’d guilted his parents into letting him keep as a way to apologize for never being around in his childhood.

Money wasn’t really an issue for them.

But Steve was still careful with it, and Eddie loved that about him.

Other than their house, they’d never made major purchases, and stuck to necessities only with occasional extra spending for birthdays and Christmas for their loved ones.

But after they adopted Ella, Steve turned into a penny pincher. He stocked up on everything from diapers to formula to baby soap any time there was a sale, and refused to buy the “fancy” brand that had the same ingredients and vitamins as the generic store brand.

Eddie loved him.

But he was very worried about Steve finding out about this.

Maybe if he just cleaned it up and then pretended Ella had had a few extra bottles?

No, then he’d panic that her food intake was abnormal and he’d call the pediatrician and Eddie would have to backtrack and then Steve would be mad.

He pulled the trash can in front of the counter, swiping his hand across quickly to get most of it into the trash.

As he moved the trash can back to its usual spot, Steve came around the corner with Ella in his arms, cooing at her.

God, he was born to do this. Eddie was gonna do everything he could to give him the six nuggets he wanted so he could watch him in his element for as long as possible.

“Say hi to Daddy, Ella,” Steve said before looking up at Eddie, who was wiping down the counter furiously.

Not fast enough if Steve’s face was any indication.

“What are you doing?”

Dammit.

“Just cleaning.”

“You’re wiping the counter.”

“Yes.”

“You never do that.”

“I just finished the dishes so I thought I should.”

“You do the dishes all the time and never do that.”

He was so suspicious. Rightfully so.

Eddie knew he was found out, or if he wasn’t quite yet, he would be as soon as Steve saw the trash.

He sighed, letting his head fall down and his chin hit his chest.

“Eds, what is it?”

Steve was walking behind the counter, concern on his face. Concern for Eddie. Concern he didn’t deserve.

“I spilled something, it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay. But you’re being weird about it so it makes me think it is a big deal.”

And then he saw it. He must have, because Eddie watched him freeze in his tracks and stare down at where the trash is.

“Stevie, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go get another can to make up for it.”

“What happened?”

“I was measuring out her nighttime bottle and knocked the can over.”

“That’s a lot of formula.”

“I know.”

And then Steve started laughing.

It startled Ella in his arms and she let out a whimper like she was about to start crying.

Steve handed her to Eddie so he could lean over, hands on his knees, and laugh louder.

“Ella, your dad’s lost it.”

“Sorry,” Steve said as he tried to gasp for air between hysterical laughter. “Just- you were so serious. Why didn’t you just say that?”

Eddie knew he wasn’t seriously asking that.

“Sweetheart, you’re kind of insane about this stuff. In a good way! I love you because you’re a little crazy! But like, that was a lot of formula and it’s wasteful and costs a lot to replace.”

Steve’s face went serious.

“Baby, you don’t think I’d be mad about an accidental spill, do you?”

Oh no, he was hurt.

Eddie hurt his feelings.

“No! No. It’s not that. It’s just you’re so serious about the budget and this would mess it up.”

“It’s just a little. And it’s not like we actually have to live so tight.”

That was suspicious. What the hell did that mean?

Steve wasn’t changing his mind on the budget, was he?

He must’ve done something.

“Oh my god. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes you did. Your face is bright red and you look like you committed a felony. I would know what that looks like since we’ve committed at least two together.”

Steve somehow blushed harder.

“It wasn’t a felony.”

“Aha! But it was something!”

The tables turned awful quickly. Eddie didn’t know how, but he’d take it. Anything to get the focus off of him.

Ella was gurgling in his arms, eyes flitting between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

“Well, you know how we talked about getting an RV, right? Since we had Ella now and might try to adopt again? Since it’s one of the things I want more than anything?”

“You bought an RV.”

Eddie was smirking at Steve, who probably expected him to be upset, but Eddie was thrilled.

Not only would they be able to travel the way Steve wanted to, Steve had thrown their budget right out the fucking window.

“I put a down payment on an RV. I told them I had to talk to you first.”

“This is gold.”

“We did technically talk about it already.”

“We did.” Eddie bounced Ella in his arms and looked down at her. “Wanna go on a road trip, angel?”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for you to spend my money for years. This is the third best day of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Eddie walked up to him and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his nose, and finally his lips.

“I love you and your crazy budget.”

“I love you and your ignorance of how money works.”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart.”

Steve rolled his eyes but nodded.

“We can pick up the RV tomorrow if you want.”

“Did you plan our first trip yet?”

“No.”

Eddie raised a brow at him.

“Yes.”

Eddie jumped up once, making Ella giggle.

“Where are we going?”

“I figured you’d wanna take Wayne to the Smoky Mountains.”

Of course he did. Of course he thought about what Eddie would want and what would make Wayne happy and what he could do to make it happen.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I guess we better make a stop at Wayne’s house tomorrow with the RV.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #tumblr drabbles #stranger things #dad steve harrington #dad eddie munson #domestic fluff

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alwaysmicado · 8 months

Text

Don't ruin the sofa

6.5k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 3

Warnings: no outbreak au, implied age gap, mild hurt/comfort, mention of blood, phone sex, talk of anal play, one (1) face slap, rough sex, pain kink, unprotected piv, creampie, breeding kink, degradation/praise, fluffy aftercare, pet names, dom!Joel Summary: After a phone call brings up repressed emotions, you decide to buy a new sofa. Joel assembles it for you, then fucks you on it. A/N: You're trying to reach reader? Sorry, she's moved on. (+ is fucking the hottest guy around). Read the previous parts here: pt. 1 | pt. 2 | masterlist | AO3 (each part can be read alone). Thank you all for your love on this series. Your kind words mean the world to me. 🤍

“How is this my fucking life,” you whisper to yourself and let your phone fall onto the wooden coffee table with a thud. You get up with a groan and drag yourself to the fridge where you know an opened bottle of white wine is waiting for you, then pour yourself a healthy amount, eye the glass, pour some more and shuffle back to the sofa.

As soon as you plop back down, your phone lights up and vibrates for the third time since you came home from work. The loud and resonant buzz, amplified and carried by the hard surface of the table, is aggravating to say the least. You take a big sip of your wine and let out an exasperated sigh when the caller won’t let up. That’s it, you’ve had enough. In a split second you swipe up to take the call and put the phone to your ear.

You don’t say anything. He’s the one who’s been texting and calling you every night for the past week, so you’re certainly not going to say something first. Instead, you wait and swirl your wine.

“Finally,” you hear him breathe with relief. “I thought you’d never pick up.”

Then why do you keep calling, you stupid idiot. You roll your eyes in annoyance and put your naked feet on the coffee table. The wine is successfully taking the edge off, but you're still this close to telling him off for good. Perhaps you should; he deserves it.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, babe,” he purrs into your ear, his sickeningly sweet voice sending a shiver down your spine. “About you, about us; about everything, really. About what could’ve been if things didn’t end like they di-”

“What do you want, Simon?” You interrupt him, your patience for his theatrics already wearing thin.

“Oh, babe,” he breathes, “It’s so good to hear your vo-”

“What do you want?” You ask again, emphasizing every word.

“I want to apologize,” he answers with a deep sigh, then clears his throat. “I- I’m sorry about what happened and how we ended things, I really am.”

You snort and pluck a stray piece of lint from your tank top. Is he for real right now?

“Cool story, Simon,” you deadpan as you get up to go grab the wine bottle from the fridge. “That it?”

“I was hoping we could talk about things, maybe meet up? I’d love to see you.”

You slam the fridge door shut and take the bottle back to the sofa. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you mutter and pour yourself another glass.

“Of course there is,” Simon protests, the agitated tone of his voice betraying the calm and collected facade he tried to put up. “I really think we should talk about what happened. I can’t just forget about it, you know.” Oh yeah, this is the real Simon. Always trying to manipulate the people around him. Sucks for him that you’ve figured it out.

“Sounds like a you problem,” you mumble and bring the cold rim of the glass back to your lips.

“Oh, come on now. Why are you acting like this?” He groans, his annoyance palpable. When he realizes you’re not going to answer him and that he maybe should be more diplomatic, he relents. “I just think we should talk about it, that’s all.”

“You wanna talk about it, huh?” You laugh dryly. “About how you were fucking Laura while I was bleeding. Or how you were fucking her when I was in surgery. Or how you were fucking her when I desperately tried to reach you. You wanna talk about all of that.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Simon counters. “We weren’t together at that point and-,” he trails off and sighs deeply. “I was scared, okay?”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “We’ve had this exact conversation three years ago, Simon. There’s nothing left to say. I’m over it.”

“How can you say that?” he asks incredulously.

“You never once called me after I moved out to ask how I was. Not once,” you sigh, this conversation slowly tugging at the stitches of wounds you thought were long closed.

“You told me you didn’t wanna hear from me,” Simon huffs. “And I was- fuck. I’m just sorry, okay? I know i fucked up.”

You both don’t say anything for a few seconds, his breathing in your ear the only thing you can hear.

“Can we meet, babe? Please? I think it would be good for both of us.”

You chug the remaining wine and take a deep breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Simon. I got nothing to say to you.”

And with that you hang up and throw your phone across the sofa. You take a deep breath, put your feet on the ground and your palms on your thighs. You close your eyes and say out loud, “calm, safe, breathe.” You repeat the mantra before adding, “It’s over, I’m here, I’m safe. Nothing can hurt me, nothing can hurt me.”

When you open your eyes again and observe the familiar surroundings of your apartment, a soothing feeling of comfort washes over you. There’s the purple vase you bought at a flea market in the first week after moving in, there are your beloved succulents that look as healthy as ever, there’s the painting you got from your talented colleague for your last birthday. And there’s the polaroid Tommy took of you and Joel at the party where he introduced you two.

You quickly wipe away your tears and turn on your TV. Another glass of wine, your favorite show and you’ll be able to sleep in no time, you tell yourself. You get up to get a new bottle from the fridge and decide to take the leftover banana bread you made with you as well. It’s time for all the comfort you can get.

With your hands full, you shuffle back to the sofa and, due to the dim light and the fact that you just downed an almost full bottle of wine on an empty stomach, you completely miss the fact that you’re directly walking into one of the coffee table legs. You stub your toes hard, trip and fall to the floor. You can only watch in slow motion as the plate flies through the air and shatters on your hardwood floor, the banana bread just rolling away sadly. The wine glass is even more spectacular, as its contents spill all over your sofa and the glass explodes into a thousand shards.

“Fuck my life,” you groan and get on your knees to pick up the big pieces with your hands before sweeping up the smaller ones with a dustpan and brush later.

“Shit,” you hiss and clutch your wrist.

Of course you cut yourself on one of the shards, blood immediately trickling down onto the carpet. The cut on your palm is not deep, but it stings. And the blood is already seeping into the fabric - great. You let out an exasperated sigh and get up.

You can’t be bothered to take care of all this right now, so you slap a too small bandaid over the cut, brush your teeth, take your melatonin with a glass of water and go to bed.

—

What sociopath calls this early? And on your day off no less. You groan at the sharp and grating sound emitted by your phone on the nightstand, but pick up when you see who it is.

“Yeah?” Your voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, laced with a sleepy rasp.

“Aww, did I wake the princess?” Joel asks in mock concern. You can hear the smirk on his stupid handsome face through the phone.

“No, no,” you murmur and rub your bleary eyes. “I’ve already run ten miles, deep-cleaned my whole apartment and rescued a cat from a tree. What have you done, hm?”

“Touché. Very impressive, darlin’,” he chuckles, your wit never failing to amuse him. “And no, I haven’t rescued any cats so far today. I’m just at work. Besides,” he continues before his voice takes on a sultry tone, “the only pussy I’m interested in is yours anyway.”

You involuntarily suck in a breath and feel yourself clench around nothing. You’re still half asleep and have no clue what planet you’re on, but Joel’s still managed to get you all hot and bothered within ten seconds of your conversation; and with a shitty pun at that.

You might have a mild problem.

“Hmm, you like that, don’t you?” He groans softly as the rhythmic fapping sound reaches your ear.

“Are you jerking off right now?” You ask, less shocked and definitely more turned on than you should be.

“Yeah,” he purrs. “You wanna help me, baby?”

“Hang on,” you say, trying to process the situation. “You’re at work and you just what, decided to call me at - you look at the time on your display - 7:13 in the morning, so I could get you off?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Joel murmurs into your ear.

You can’t help but chuckle at his audacity and complete lack of shame. You love it.

“Alright,” you coo, “but first you gotta tell me what’s got you all riled up.” You put him on speaker and slide your hand between your legs.

“My secretary’s wearing a tight dress today,” he murmurs, then spits into his hand to wet his shaft.

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, “She turn you down and now poor you has to make do with me?” You run your fingers through your folds and bite your lip as you spread the slick from your core to your clit.

“You know me better than that, darlin’,” Joel says softly. “I was scrolling through the photos I took of the construction site yesterday and then the pic you sent me caught my eye. Couldn’t concentrate on anything else afterwards.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face as you think of Joel losing his composure because of you. It is a hot photo to be fair. After your phone call with Simon on Sunday night, you ordered a new sofa, carpet and some fun items of the adult variety to feel better. While trying out one of them, you felt compelled to let Joel have a piece of your fun and sent him a pic of you with your best assets on display.

“You like that one, huh,” you tease, your fingers slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I was thinking about you when I took it, you know.”

“Fuck yeah,” Joel murmurs, his breathing heavy. “Look fucking gorgeous with your ass stuffed and your tits out.”

“Mmm, it’s a new ribbed dildo I got. Felt amazing in my tight little hole,” you purr and hear Joel groan softly at the image. “I used a vibrator on my clit while I fucked my ass, but my pussy felt far too empty. It was dripping so much I had to change the sheets after.”

“That’s my dirty girl. You want two cocks to stuff your greedy holes, baby?” He moans, clearly aroused by the idea of seeing you fall apart while being filled to the brim. You dip your fingers into your wet cunt and use your slick to rub your clit harder.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathe, causing Joel’s painfully hard cock to twitch, “want you to tie me to the bed so my pussy’s wide open for you. I want you to choose a toy that’s too big and push it inside my dripping hole to stretch it until it’s a ruined mess. When you’re satisfied and take the toy out of my ruined hole, I’d beg you to finally fuck my cunt with your cock, but you’d fuck my ass instead and just leave my used pussy clench around nothing.”

You moan breathlessly as you can feel the muscles in your abdomen tighten and pleasure building rapidly. Hearing Joel lose his mind on the other end of the line is setting all of your nerves on fire and you desperately wish he was here to fuck you like you deserve.

“Fuck, you’re such a perfect little whore,” Joel groans, fisting his cock faster. “I’d film the whole thing, so I could show you how pathetic you look begging for my cock and dripping with my cum. I’d fill you up over and over again until you’re a crying mess begging me to stop.” His moans are getting louder and you can’t help but wonder how thick the walls of his office must be.

You can’t wait for him to get his hands on you and do with you as he pleases. “I’ll take whatever you decide to give me, Sir.”

“Gonna take my cum in all your holes, angel?”

“Yes, Sir. Please, I need it so bad. I just wanna be your cum slut for you to fill up.”

When Joel just groans at that, you know you’ve hit on something. “That’s what I am, right? Your cum slut to fill up?” You’re incredibly close to coming already, but you want to wait for Joel.

“That’s what you are, angel. And you’re just perfect like that. Three holes for me to use. Always so,” he pants breathlessly as he’s tip-toeing on the edge of his release, “always so fucking good for me. Gonna- gonna ruin you, baby. Gonna make you come on my cock until you cry.”

“Can I please come, Sir? I- I don’t think I can wait anymore,” you whine desperately, Joel’s filthy mouth putting you over the edge.

“Oh yeah, baby,” he pants breathlessly as he increases the pace of his strokes. You can hear the obscene sound of him fucking his fist. “You gonna come with me?”

You moan his name as you reach your peak, your whole body trembling and finding its release. Joel is right behind you, erupting into his hand and onto his belly with a strangled groan. Your orgasm is so intense that you can ride it out for a few ecstatic seconds filled with your breathless moans. When you come down from your climax, you only hear your blood rushing in your ears and the pulsating sound of your heart.

You try to catch your breath for a few seconds and open your eyes before asking, “Joel, you alive?”

When the only thing you hear is heavy breathing, you giggle. You know exactly how he looks right now, all disheveled with his wet cock out and a big satisfied smile on his lips. You wish so badly you could lick up every last drop of his cum.

“Mmm, you’re such a good girl,” Joel murmurs after some time, still coming down from his high and opening a drawer to retrieve some tissues. “I’ll clear my schedule, so we can do this every morning, alright?”

You chuckle and turn on your side, “You’d get bored with me pretty quickly if we did this every day.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard today,” Joel scoffs and wipes his softening cock with the tissues. “And I had to explain to Tommy that he can’t influence the gender of his future baby by fucking his wife a certain way. So, yeah.”

You laugh at the image of Tommy vividly explaining how he and Maria have sex and Joel just standing there, dumbfounded, asking himself if he might have damaged his little brother’s brain when they were wrestling as kids.

“Alright, babe,” Joel says softly, “since my cock’s not hogging all of my blood anymore, I should try and get some work done.”

“Good idea,” you chuckle. “Say hi to Tommy from me, okay?”

“Will do, darlin’. And you let me know when you got time to show me that new toy of yours in person, alright?”

Your eyes lock on the big IKEA packages in your living room and you bite your lip.

“You wanna come over later?”

---

You’re actually excited for your new sofa. You’ve had the old one removed by a company yesterday and already spread out the new carpet. It’s gray with white shapes on it. And it’s fluffy, so you’ve spent quite some time walking on it with bare feet.

You assembled your old sofa yourself when you moved in three years ago. It was dark blue and you loved it. But you also spilled a lot of stuff on there over time, bodily fluids included. So it’s nice to get a new, clean one.

Especially when it’s the reason why Joel Miller is currently kneeling on your floor, his broad back and arms stretching the fabric of his white T-shirt, his perfect butt accentuated by his jeans, wrestling with the IKEA manual he insists is “misleading” and “must’ve been written by some idiot who’s never built anything in his goddamn life”.

Needless to say, you’re loving the free entertainment.

He shoots you an annoyed look and lets out an exasperated sigh when you point out for the third time that he’s reading the instructions wrong. You can’t not tease him, he makes it too easy.

“As much as I appreciate your very generous help, darlin’, I really wish you’d get the fuck outta here before I strangle you. Lovingly.”

You giggle and scratch the back of his head softly. “It’s not like you to get so frustrated, baby,” you purr into his ear as you lean down, giving him a perfect view of your naked tits under your oversized shirt. “You sure you don’t need my help? I wouldn’t want you to strain your poor knees and back too much, you know.”

You wish you could take pictures with your retinas because the glare Joel is giving you right now is priceless.

“You think that’s funny, huh?” He scoffs and tilts his head as his dark eyes bore into you. Uh-oh, now you did it. “If you’re not out of this room in ten seconds, I’m gonna tie you to your bed and edge you with a vibrator on full volume until you’re crying from pain. And believe me when I tell you that I will not let you come.”

A smug smile tugs at the corners of his plush lips as he observes how your pupils have dilated and how you're pressing your thighs together at his threat. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t move and tuts, “Poor baby, already cockdumb even though I haven’t even touched her yet, hm?” You frown at him, but he just laughs at you. “Time’s ticking you little brat, better get out while you still can.” You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh dramatically before heading for your bedroom.

When you hear Joel chuckle behind you, you hesitate for a second, but he’s already read your mind. “Don’t even think about it,” he growls. “And close the door.”

You do just that, jump on your bed and watch Netflix on your laptop. It only takes Joel another 40 minutes to finish assembling the sofa, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he calls your name so soon.

You close your laptop and quickly smell your armpits. You’ve showered in the morning, but it’s still incredibly hot even with the AC blasting. When you’ve assessed that you smell good, you open the door to the living room.

“How do you like it?” Joel asks as he’s standing next to the cream-colored piece of furniture. He’s already put away all of the packaging material and made sure the cushions are clean. It looks absolutely stunning and nicely complements all the other furniture in the room.

You trace the back of the sofa with your hand, appreciating the soft material and come to a halt when you’re flush with Joel’s body. You look up into his eyes and coo, “Thank you so much, Joel. I love it.” He smiles back at you and studies your face for a second before grabbing you by the nape of your neck and your ass cheek.

“You listen to me very carefully now ‘cause I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he growls, intensifying the grip on your neck. “You do as you’re told. You answer me. You don’t come unless I tell you to and I’m not gonna stop unless you say your safeword. Understood?”

You’re so stunned that you can only nod, your words completely failing you.

You gasp in surprise as Joel’s palm cracks against your left cheek, leaving a stinging imprint. You instinctively move your left hand to soothe the pain, but Joel is faster than you and catches your wrist. “Tell me your safeword, baby,” he purrs and caresses your sensitive cheek.

You stammer the specific word you both know to be your safeword before he tangles his hand in your hair and captures your lips in a hungry kiss. Your heart rate picks up immediately as you part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip in. The sensation of Joel’s soft lips and his broad body pressing against yours has you rub against the bulge in his jeans.

He grabs your thigh and lifts it up, so he can grind against your aching core directly. You moan into his mouth, your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him into you as you move your hips in sync with his thrusts. You’re so sensitive since your orgasm this morning that you could come like this if he let you.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you,” he pants as he breaks the kiss and studies your face. Your pupils are blown, your chest is heaving and your mind is spinning. You want him so badly it hurts. “Take off your clothes and bend over the armrest, baby,” Joel orders and you obey immediately. You let your shirt and pj pants fall down to your feet, causing Joel to suck in a sharp breath when he sees that you’re not wearing any panties.

He looks at you hungrily as you bend over the sofa, your arms resting on the cushion and your ass in the air with your legs spread.

“You’re the prettiest little whore I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He asks as he’s tracing your back with his fingertips. When you don’t answer him, he smacks your ass hard. You yelp in surprise at the impact and instinctively close your legs. Joel presses his clothed bulge against your wet pussy and kicks your feet apart with his. He caresses the red cheek with one hand and tangles the other in your hair to yank your head back. “Answer me or I’ll spank you until you can’t anymore,” he growls into your ear, the dangerous tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m the prettiest little whore you’ve ever seen,” you blurt out, then moan at the feeling of Joel running his fingers through your folds. “Mmm, you’re such a good girl,” he praises. “Always so wet for me.”

You hear him unbutton and unzip his jeans, hear his belt buckle hit the floor and his heavy breathing behind you as he coats his hard cock in your slick and gives it a few pumps. “I need you to be strong now, angel,” he says softly as he rubs your clit with his index and middle finger. You’re so desperate for him to touch you that his words don’t register.

A needy moan escapes your lips as he’s finally relieving some of the tension that’s been building in your core all day long. You push your hips back as far as you can to chase the friction, but Joel withdraws his fingers all too quickly. You whine desperately at the loss and immediately feel tears well up in your eyes. You hear the dull thud of his T-shirt hitting the floor.

“Shh, be good for me, baby,” Joel purrs before you feel his hands grabbing your hips and the head of his cock nudging your entrance. Your eyes widen in realization as your brain has now processed what he’s planning on doing.

Before you can protest though, he’s already ramming his cock inside you in one smooth thrust, splitting you open with a force you’ve never felt before.

“Fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” Joel groans loudly, stumbling forward because of the shiver that’s running down his spine, causing him to go even deeper.

The sudden impact of his cock spreading you open without any preparation besides your wetness has knocked the air out of your lungs. Only when he moves and nudges your cervix does your body finally allow you to cry out in pain.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, I’m here,” Joel purrs as he gives you no time to adjust to his size or the pain at all, but starts to set a slow rhythm, thrusting his cock in and out of your tight pussy. You sob into the cushion and try to rub your clit on the armrest, but Joel pulls you back on his cock hard when he notices.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he tuts as he picks up the pace and uses his grip on your sides to bounce you on his cock. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?”

He slaps the same spot on your ass as before when you don’t answer him. Your chest heaves as you choke on your sobs, unable to get an answer out. “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry about that,” he coos as he continually rocks into you at an unrelenting pace. “But I really need you to answer me, angel.”

“I-I want to c-come, Sir,” you sob pathetically, tears streaming from your eyes.

“I get that, baby, I really do. But I don’t think you understand what this is,” Joel groans. “You really think I’m gonna let you come, you brat?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whine as Joel’s cock expertly massages your G-spot with every powerful thrust of his hips. The mix of pain and pleasure has your body and mind on fire. There are no thoughts in your brain, no ex-boyfriends, no past, no blood, no sadness - just Joel and you, melting into one.

When he feels you tighten your muscles around him, hears your breathing get ragged and the pitch of your moans get higher, he pulls out of you. You scream and sob into the cushion as your legs shake uncontrollably. You were so close.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Joel breathes, then starts stroking your back and ass gently before watching his cock disappear into your body once again. “I don’t care how good it feels,” he pants. “You'd better not come until I tell you to.”

When you feel your orgasm approach quickly again, your body so utterly desperate for release, you resort to begging. There is no pride left, only carnal desire.

“Please Joel, please, let me come, please,” you whimper weakly between sobs. “You can come wherever you w-want, my ass, my pussy, my m-mouth, all over me - just please let me come. I can’t take it anymore.”

“That’s a good girl, begging so pretty,” Joel coos and slowly pulls out of you. He holds you steady as he feels you tremble. “Lie down, darlin,” he says softly and guides you on your back.

He kneels between your legs and puts one of them over his shoulders. He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in. “Look at me, baby,” Joel breathes. “Look at me when you come.” You moan softly as he brings you to the edge of your release in the matter of a few thrusts. “That’s it, angel,” Joel encourages you, his face hovering above yours. “Don’t hold back, I got you,” he nods. You arch your back as you reach your peak, a choked groan escaping your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, baby. Wanna come all over you,” Joel groans, your walls contracting around him as he’s slamming his hips against your core with abandon.

“Don’t ruin the sofa,” you mumble between breathless moans. Joel chuckles into your ear and nibbles on your earlobe. “I guess I’ll just have to fill you up then,” he rasps, picking up the pace and sinking his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck.

He comes with a low, rough grunt as he spills himself deep inside you. His hips stutter and his whole body suddenly goes limp as he comes down from his high on top of you. You draw shapes onto his back with your fingertips and he hums into the crook of your neck. When he tries to pull out after a few seconds, you grab his ass to stop him.

“No, no, no,” you protest weakly, “it’ll drip on the sofa.”

“Alright, baby, no worries. Just hold on to me, can you do that?” Joel asks gently. “Hm,” you answer and wrap your hands around his neck. He maneuvers you from your back into a sitting position with you on top, then moves to stand with you wrapped around him. He carries you to the bathroom like this, making sure his cock stays inside you the whole way.

He lets you down right in front of the toilet and you immediately sit down, so his cum doesn’t drip on the floor. “Join me, when you’re done, okay?” Joel murmurs as he kisses your forehead before stepping into the shower. You pee and wait a bit for more of his cum to trickle out of you, then step into the shower as well.

You squeeze past Joel to stand under the water, wet your whole body and hair and squirt some of the peach scented body wash onto your loofah to scrub your body. “Let me do your back,” Joel says softly, then massages you from your neck down to your feet with the sponge as you apply your shampoo.

When you’re both done, you dry off with two of your fluffiest towels and go to put on your clothes. You get yourself a new pair of pajama pants and another oversized shirt and Joel puts the clothes he came in back on.

“What do you want from Domino’s?” You shout from the bedroom. Time for pizza and Netflix.

---

“What the fuck,” you hiss as you see the new notification on your phone. “I fucking told you to leave me alone, what is so fucking hard to understand? Asshole.” You lean over the counter and stare at Simon’s messages. Wanna give you space, babe. But I can’t live without you. You put the leftover pizza in your fridge and slam the door.

“You alright, darlin’?” Joel asks as he’s suddenly standing behind you in the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorry, all good,” you murmur, turning around to face him and putting on the most convincing smile you’re capable of right now. You’re not fooling Joel for a second and you know it. When he gives you a sympathetic look, you can’t muster the strength to pull up the corners of your lips anymore. Instead, you look at the fuzzy slippers on your feet and sigh deeply. “It’s my ex,” you say quietly. “He started calling and texting me a week ago after no contact for three years and it’s really stressing me out.”

Your eyes find Joel’s and you immediately feel sorry for bringing it up. “Fuck, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer and shake your head. “It’s not your problem. Forget what I said.” He closes the distance between you two and wraps his strong arms around you in a warm embrace. You put your arms around him and stroke his back. You can feel his heartbeat.

“Why don’t I make us some coffee and we sit back down on your new, not-ruined sofa, hm?” He murmurs into your hair with a smile.

“Joel, I don’t-”

“We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit, drink coffee and not talk as much as you want.” His warm hands softly rubbing your back make you feel so safe.

“Okay, thank you,” you mumble into his shoulder before letting go of him. You open a drawer and pull out a bag of cookies. “I got these for you if you want them.” You hold up the bag and Joel takes it with a furrowed brow and a curious smile.

“How in the world did you know?”

“You honestly don’t remember?” You giggle. “You ranted about how much you love these for an hour when we got high a few weeks ago. They don’t sell them anywhere nearby so I ordered them in a specialty store online.”

Joel shakes his head and looks at you with his big puppy eyes. “You’re the best, darlin’. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead gently, then tells you to make yourself comfortable on the sofa.

You sit down and look around. Being here feels different. Your apartment looks the same as it did a few hours ago. Sure, the sofa and carpet are new, but there’s something else. You realize that it doesn’t bother you to have someone else in your home, in your safe space. It’s actually kind of nice to know someone’s here.

“There you go,” Joel says as he hands you your cup. He sits down beside you and puts a bowl filled with cookies on the coffee table.

You pull your feet up onto the cushion and say, “Thank you.” Joel puts his arm over the backrest and caresses the nape of your neck with his fingers.

“You remember what I told you when you asked me to stay over on our first night together?” You ask quietly.

“I do,” Joel says softly. “You said you couldn’t and when I asked what you meant by that you said you didn’t wanna get attached.”

“Sounds kinda mean now that I’m thinking about it,” you murmur. “You know it has nothing to do with you, right?”

“I know, darlin’,” Joel reassures you. “And I’ve told you from the beginning that I’m not gonna pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. We got a good thing going and as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I haven’t always been this way, you know,” you sigh and play with the hem of your shirt. “And I fucking hate that it was one guy that ruined everything,” you say dryly and stare into your black coffee. “It wasn’t a good relationship to begin with and we both made some bad decisions. I know that. So when I packed up a handful of my things and walked out of our apartment forever, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again. Until now.” You take a sip of your coffee and continue, “He apologized for the shit he did and asked me to meet him.”

“How do you feel about that? Him apologizing?” Joel asks, his calm tone of voice soothing your nerves.

You sigh deeply and let your head fall back onto the sofa. “I feel like it’s a goddamn joke,” you scoff and throw your arm over your eyes. “I don’t believe a single word he says and he didn’t even really apologize, you know? He still doesn’t understand what he did. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t care.”

You lift your arm and turn your head to look at Joel. “I dunno which is worse.”

“It sucks that he’s not giving you the apology you deserve after hurting you. I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“I just don’t understand why it bothers me so much, you know? I haven’t seen him in three years, I’m over it, so why does it still hurt so fucking bad?”

“Did you love him?” Joel asks and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You look into his big, sincere eyes and nod. “Yeah,” you murmur. “At least I thought I did.”

“Well, there’s your answer, sweetheart.”

You hide your face behind your hands. “I’m such a fucking idiot,” you groan, embarrassed of your pathetic feelings and the way you’re behaving in front of Joel. Being this emotionally vulnerable is causing you physical pain.

“Hey, stop that nonsense,” he objects immediately, scooting closer to you and pulling you against his chest. “You have a big heart, you have feelings. You’re allowed to feel hurt and you’re allowed to feel sad.” He kisses the crown of your head and murmurs, “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Have you ever cut someone out of your life completely?” You mumble into his chest.

“I have.”

“Do you ever think about them?”

“Sure I do,” Joel nods. “Not often, but yeah. It’s normal. Especially if they meant a lot to you.”

“Hmm, I guess.”

You look up and give him a genuine smile before sighing and reaching for the remote. “Enough heavy stuff for today,” you say. “Let’s watch something. I can feed you cookies and scratch your back…”

---

“You wanna know what I like about you?”

“My old man fetish.”

He looks at you incredulously for a second, then starts tickling the soles of your feet in retaliation. “You’re such an ass,” he laughs as you try to wriggle away. You squeal and try to kick him off, but he’s got both of your ankles in a firm grasp. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmurs, then pulls you closer. “C’mere.”

You sit up and straddle him, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Joel puts his arms around you, his hands splayed on your back, instantly grounding you and providing a sense of security.

He looks into your eyes and murmurs, “What I was going to say is that I like your honesty; with yourself and others. It’s a quality you should never give up on, even if it’s hard.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then looks at his watch. “I should go, darlin’. It’s been a long day.”

You nod and let him get up to put on his shoes.

“Joel?”

He turns around and looks at you with raised eyebrows.

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to go, that he can stay this time, but the words just won’t leave your lips. Instead you say, “Thank you for today, seriously.” You walk up to him and press a soft kiss to his lips. “You really helped me and made me feel so much better.”

Joel doesn’t answer immediately as he tilts his head and studies your face. “I’m glad I could cheer you up, darlin’,” he coos and caresses your left cheek. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Will do, Joel. Thank you.”

---

You open Simon’s messages and type in your reply before blocking him.

Simon: But I can’t live without you You: Then die

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍 part 2 || part 4 || series masterlist

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lxclerc · 1 year

Text

𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary: when a world famous singer's reputation takes a hit, she never expects to meet a man determined to stay with her through it all. pairing: charles leclerc x reader warning: none, fluff note: part 1 of the reputation series. let me know if you want to be part of the tag list!

masterlist

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

your head is absolutely pounding and you’re sure that someone must be attempting to crack your skull open, but the arms wrapped around your waist reminds you exactly why you’ve spent most of the night downing shots after shots. ‘

you needed the alcohol to distract you from walking over to the other side of the room where he stood – bright green eyes and a brighter laugh that caught your attention the moment you walked in. or maybe you needed the alcohol to give you the courage to walk over to him.

people surrounded him and you’d seen a few ask to take a picture with him, requests you yourself have been getting the entire night but had to politely decline with an offer to buy them a drink instead. this man is gracious though, definitely not as patient as you – he smiles for every picture, chats with anyone that talks to him.

he must be someone, you thought. someone important, someone that matters. and someone that you’re not likely to forget anytime soon and so you down a shot.

“charles leclerc,” your friend says, having watched you watch him all night. “formula 1 driver.”

you feel a little bit caught but you’re drunk enough not to care as you turn to him again. he’s magnetic, a type of beautiful that had people turning. he definitely had you turning.

“let’s go over to them,” your friend says, already looping her arm with yours and pulling to the group before you could respond. you see some of their eyes widening as you approach, you see him turning to you, green eyes filled with recognition as he realized who you were. you almost wish you’d brought a bottle over with you.

“y/n,” one of his friends say, pulling your attention away from the driver. you’re almost thankful, being so close to him now feels a little overwhelming. “i’m a big fan.”

you feel him watching you and so you grin. you try to ignore the small voice in your head grimacing. it’s a wonder you still have fans nowadays. after the massive fall your reputation had taken, you’re a little bit surprised your friends had managed to drag you out of your apartment.

“thank you,” you say, hoping you aren’t slurring.

you’re not exactly sure how it happened but somehow, the rest of your friends ended up on their table too, the two groups merging together seamlessly as the music grew louder and the alcohol keeps flowing. you’ve talked to nearly all of them, laughing and sharing stories and joking around as though you’ve been best friends for decades.

all except him, of course. he remains in your line of vision and you feel his stare on you the entire night but you refuse to look. it’s a horrible idea, your reputation’s never been worse, you remind yourself. getting tangled up with another man to add to your long list of scandals might just have your media team resign on the spot.

of course that was up until he shattered whatever self control you had left as his hand wandered to your waist. it wasn’t anything with purpose, barely even a touch just something to get your attention but goddamn this man needed to think about the consequence of touching you in dark rooms.

“are you avoiding me?” he jokes and before you knew it, you’re face to face and you can smell the whiskey on ice mixing with his cologne.

and he’s gorgeous – just too goddamn beautiful that it almost makes you mad.

“your accent is funny,” you say and then you cringe.

his eyebrows scrunch together. he definitely hadn’t expected those to be your first words to him.

“Vous préférez que je parle français ?” he says, the words rolling off his tongue like honey. Would you prefer that I speak French?

god truly has favorites because of course he speaks french. he can’t possibly be just beautiful.

charles chuckles. “i speak italian too.”

oh. you hadn’t realized you said it out loud. “i didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

and then he laughed and you knew damn well he’s going to ruin all of your plans.

you're so gorgeous i can't say anything to your face

and so here you were, head pounding and dealing with the world’s worst hangover but having whatever ridiculously expensive cologne charles leclerc uses clinging to your skin.

you aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed to find yourself still wearing the sparkly dress you were wearing last night. and though charles’ shirt had disappeared to god knows where, the dark cargo pants he wore is still present.

dimly, you remember your drunken slurring, arms wrapped around his neck. he was only a little less drunk than you were, but he’d mixed up french and italian with english sometime after you’d lightly pulled at the hair on the back of his head as you both attempted to dance to the beat.

and as the sun began rising and both your friends had decidedly chose to call their own cabs, charles hadn’t even needed to ask you if you wanted to go to his hotel with him. he’d simply grabbed your hand and gently led you to his car. he doesn’t let go of your hand as he drives and not as you enter the elevator. even now as he sleeps and you’re cocooned within his arms, his hand is tightly entwined with yours.

it feels a bit odd; waking up so intimately wound with someone knowing nothing sexual needed to happen first. it feels odd to be held knowing he expects nothing in return. pure intimacy booths excites you and frightens you.

“ne veut pas encore partir,” you hear him mutter as he shifts, burying his head deeper against your neck. his arms around you tightens as he pulls you flushed against his chest.

you don’t know what to do with yourself, you can only be thankful that you aren’t facing him because god knows you’d end up stuttering and flushing being subjected to those green eyes. the man was far too gorgeous, it almost makes you mad. you only hope he can't hear the way your heart is beating so furiously against your chest.

“i have no idea what you just said,” you say.

“i said,” he mutters with a sigh. “i don’t want to go yet.”

disappointment hits you like a hot brick. “do you have to?”

he pulls his hand from under you, looking at his red richard mille watch. “i have to be on track before eleven.”

right. you forgot he drove for a living. you heaved a sigh as you pulled yourself away from his hold, ignoring the way he groaned and the sudden chill as the air condition hit your bare arms. you pick up your phone, finally breaking the safe bubble you’ve both created. you can’t help but release another sigh at the messages sent by your publicist; all consisting of different articles showing pictures of you leaving the club, hand being pulled by charles with his head ducked. thankfully, his face is pretty hidden apart from a blurry side view with him turning towards you.

you don’t want to drag charles into your bullshit more than you already have.

charles finally stands, putting on his discarded shirt. “breakfast before i go maybe?”

you couldn’t help but smile, putting your phone into your pocket as you return to your safe bubble. “yeah, i’d really like that.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot

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ncis-yp · 2 months

Note

may i request sugar daddy!gibbs? <3

Money, Money, Money (Sugar Daddy! Gibbs x Reader)

Late night, black coffee, handsome man, all alone. Third time this week, 5th week in a row you’ve seen him. You flirted often fishing for bigger tips, trying to pay bills you couldn’t even afford to have. You lived on your own. 18 years old, last 2 months of high school, and barely a plan and money to plan life with.

“See you’re here again!” You say happily topping him off.

“Hey! Rough week” he sighed, eyeing you gently.

“You work at… don’t tell me” you say trying to remember. “NCIS!” You exclaim.

“Good memory” he smiles. “How are you (y/n)?” He asks.

“Ah I’m alright. Just trying to get off work as soon as possible, you know” you shrug. “Later it gets the scarier it is outside.”

“Well, what time do you get off?” Gibbs asks.

“12” you sigh, looking towards the clock. Only 9:45. “Got about 2 hours left”

“Yeah, remember the goal kid.” Gibbs smiled. “Say, what college do you plan on attending? I remember you saying you were a senior and it’s almost the end of the year.”

“Oh, college.” You say quietly. “I can’t afford it, so I won’t be going. Maybe in the future” his phone began ringing. He clicked it silent before turning to you,

“Ah I see… well (y/n) have a good night. I’ve gotta get back to work” he stands.

“See ya around, Jet” you saluted him.

“Jet…” he said thoughtfully. “I like that!!”

Time skip~

The clock hit 12 and your shift was over. You walked out to see a familiar face leaning against a car. You smiled as he approached you.

“Hey Jet! What’re you still doin out?”

“Driving you home” he shakes his keys. “Scary out here” you can see a smirk.

“Coming from a guy who’s packing” you roll your eyes as you approach the car. You were gonna let yourself get a ride with a man who had a gun… a lot safer than walking an hour without a gun. That was how you justified getting into that car.

“Oh shut up” he opened the door and you got in.

When you arrived at your shitty apartment that you could barely afford you saw Gibbs eyes search the perimeter.

“I’ll walk you in… I don’t like the looks of that guy on the corner” he motions with his head.

“It’s really alright. Thank you for the ride!” You say opening your door. Jethro reached across and shut it before you could step out. Silently he got out and walked around the car. Opening it.

“Let’s go” he grinned sweetly. You caved and bring him up. His eyes fell on your small apartment. Clean, organized, your life could fit in a box. He made notes of things to buy you.

“Well since you’re up here” you say as you take off your coat. “Coffee? Tea? Might actually have a bottle of soda in the fridge…” you trail as you thought about it.

“Coffee’s great, yeah” he accepts. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night before he left. Your insecurity of what you could afford present in the back of your mind.

A few days later~

You woke up to a knock on your front door. You opened it to see a delivery guy at your door.

“Delivery for a…” he looked at his clipboard. “(Y/n)(l/n)”

“Yeah, yeah that’s me” you say. “What is this?” The man shrugged.

“A car? If you didn’t order it, not my problem. I can’t take it back.” He said as you signed the paper. He handed you the keys. “Beautiful car by the way” he walked away. You closed the door behind you, walking downstairs. Outside you eagerly clicked the key, looking around for the car, your eyes finally settling on the black dodge challenger sitting in a parking spot a few meters down.

“Oh my god” you say nearly in tears. You ran back upstairs and hurriedly got dressed for work, hoping to see Jethro there. And sure enough when you pulled up in your new car, there was Jethro, leaning on his car again.

“You fucking bastard” you run and hug him, you cry happily into his shoulder. He laughed as you did so.

“Wait wait, I get you a car and you call me Bastard!!!” He exclaimed. “I got something else for you…” he digs his hand into his pocket, another key coming out on his finger.

“Jethro…” you say looking at it as a bright green address tag danced in your eyes.

“Coffee first. Key later” you nodded as you lead him inside.

Time skip~

You ended your shift early to go with Jethro. You blindly tailed him into a nicer apartment complex in a better part of Quatico. Your heart began to flutter as you parked.

You walked into a nice apartment on the 3rd floor. Beautiful black granite kitchen tops, newly installed appliances.

“So…” he says. “What furniture were you thinking you wanted for your new apartment?” He says handing you magazines.

“Holy shit.” You whisper. “This is mine?” He nodded. “This place is mine?” You gasp.

“All paid off. So is the car. And so is your degree.”

“Degree?” You ask. “No you didn’t”

“Yes. I did” he smiled.

“Shut up” you tear up as he passes you a folder. The big words ‘WELCOME TO VIRGINIA TECH’ inscribed. “How did you-“

“Pulled some strings… I think your 1560 SAT score and perfect GPA helped a lot…” he said.

“Oh my god” you cry out jumping into his arms. “I will pay it all back” you say.

“Nope. No need. Just keep being a good girl and I will give you the world” he says.

“Thank you so much!!”

“Of course! You deserve it” he winked. “Now pick out some furniture. It’s your reward for getting into Virginia Tech” you kisses your cheek.

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Would you be willing to do fem whimsical!reader x lily where reader thinks something is haunted and maybe tries to befriend the ghost? Idk id really be happy with anything i just love lily. thank you if you do write it!! If not that’s okay I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks lovely, hope you have a wonderful day as well <3

Lily Evans x whimsical!reader ♡ 916 words

You recognize the sound of Lily’s footfalls thumping dully on the dusty floors, so you don’t jump when a figure sits down beside you.

“Did you buy whiskey?” she asks. “You don’t even like whiskey.”

“It’s not for me.”

Your girlfriend hums, shuffling closer so her thigh is pressed against your knee where you have your legs crossed underneath you on the floor. In front of you is your candle, the flame flickering steadily, and your offering of the bottle of whiskey. Otherwise, the room is empty. “If you keep coming in here, eventually Michael’s going to figure it out and he’ll get a real lock put on the door.”

Michael is your landlord, of whom Lily is constantly wary because his first course of action is always threatening to kick tenants out (though as far as you know, he’s never actually done it).

“True,” you reply, “but don’t you think he’d appreciate it if I got the presence up here to quiet down? No one’s going to move in if it keeps making so much ruckus.”

Shortly after the last tenants had moved out, you’d started hearing noises in the unit above yours. Sometimes it’s a light clicking, sometimes a louder thump like something’s fallen, but every time you’ve come up here to check there’s been no evidence of things having moved around. The natural conclusion is that there’s been some disturbance in the spirit world that’s resulted in a new presence squatting here, and you like to make friends with your neighbors.

You know Lily’s a bit dubious of your theory, but your beliefs often differ from hers. She’s never made you feel like yours are any less valid.

“Are you sure that making friends with the ghost won’t make it more inclined to make more noise?” she asks.

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, “but I’d like to think that if they like me well enough, they’ll listen if I ask them to keep it down. At least at night, you know?”

Lily smiles, and the room warms in response. “Worth a try,” she agrees. “How long do you think you’re going to be tied up for? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Not much longer. As soon as the candle burns out I just have to look at the shapes in the wax, and then I can go.”

“We’re going to have to clean up the wax stains before Michael discovers them too.” She leans over to kiss the side of your head, the soft curtain of her hair falling across your cheek, before sitting back on her heels and straightening up. “Alright, love, come down when you’re done.”

You hum in response, listening to the comforting cadence of her footsteps as they leave. But then there’s another sound with them. A quiet clicking.

You inhale softly as the flame of your candle flares slightly. “It’s here,” you breathe. “It’s listening.” Lily pauses in the doorway, and you clear your throat, trying to affect your voice to be calm and welcoming. “Hello? Can you communicate with us?”

The clicking continues. You think—hope, maybe—that it might be growing louder, but it’s difficult to say.

“Hello?” you try again. “We’re friendly, please don’t be afraid.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not sure…” Lily takes a few steps toward you, a bemused furrow between her brows. “It sounds like it’s coming from in there.”

She starts down the hall, and you follow hastily. She stops in front of a closed bedroom door, reaching behind her to grasp your arm cautiously. The clicking does sound louder here. Lily edges the door open quietly, peering inside.

“Oh.” The syllable stretches as if drawn out from between her lips, sweet as spun sugar. “Hello, darling.”

She lets the door fall the rest of the way open, dropping into a crouch. Over her, you can see the empty, dusty room, rich light from the setting sun streaming through the windows, and a small white kitten frozen warily in the middle of the floor.

Lily reaches out a hand, making quiet little tsking noises with her tongue, but you step right over her and gather the kitten in your arms.

“Hi there,” you say. “Is it you making ruckus every night?”

Lily laughs, rising from her crouch to come stand by your shoulder. “It’s so unfair how they always come to you,” she complains fondly. “I try so hard.”

You hum noncommittally. It’s true, animals love you. You scratch the side of the kitten’s face, smiling when it purrs.

Your girlfriend smiles too. “So you’re our ghost, hm?” she coos, stroking a knuckle down its belly. “Sorry you didn’t get your chance to make friends with someone from the afterlife, sweetheart.”

“That’s alright,” you say. “This may be more rewarding anyway. You can’t pet ghosts.”

Lily laughs, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “No, I don’t suppose you can. Do you want to keep her?”

You look at her in surprise. “Could we? Michael wouldn��t be happy.”

She shrugs a shoulder, green eyes flashing with challenge. “There are some things worth incurring Michael’s wrath, I think.”

You beam, looking down at the nearly sleeping kitten cradled in your arm. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” Lily gives you a nudge, starting back out into the hall. “Our dinner’s going to burn, and I think we have tuna in the pantry to hold this one over until we can get to the store.”

“Can we name her Ghost?” you ask, following her out.

“Oh, I don’t think we have a choice.”

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warmblanketwhump · 3 months

Text

this was originally written for the sicktember prompt “I should have stayed home” but I forgot about it. so enjoy it now!!!

A raises their eyebrows as they see B dressing to go into town. “B, are you sure you don’t want us to to stay home and rest for another week? I can handle it.”

B shakes their head, pulling on their coat and winding their scarf around their neck. “I’m fine. I’ll go mad if I have to stay inside another day, and I want to help.”

A sighs, trying not to notice the dark shadows under B’s eyes. B’s been under the weather for the last week and a half, battling a terrible cold that hit along with the sudden cold snap. After nearly a week of being too weak to leave their bed, B had been getting restless, their mind tired of being confined to the cabin even while their body struggled to recover. But A wants to trusts B’s judgement of their own body and how they're feeling, so they let the matter drop.

Besides, A thinks, with the smallest tinge of guilt, we really do need the money from this market—maybe they really are ready to help. The doctor’s visits and bottle of medicines had stretched them thin this month, and there were only a few markets left to sell as much as they could before winter would set in.

On the ride into town, B seems alright—a bit more talkative and a few more smiles and rough-voiced laughs at A’s banter. And for a moment, A wonders if B’s just feeling better than they look.

But when they arrive at the town’s weekend market and start to set up their wares, A notices the way B struggles to lift even the lightest of the crates, how frequently they stop tug their scarf closer against the damp, misty air, how hunched their shoulders are. A says nothing, but tries to move the other crates as quickly as possible to ensure B doesn’t have to work as hard.

“You sure you’re okay, B?” A asks as they unload the final crate. They look exhausted.

B nods, though A notices they’re a few shades paler than when they left home. “I’m alright. Just not used to this much activity.” They try a weak smile, but it only serves to underscore how worn out they already look.

“B, if you need a break, you rest, alright?” A’s voice is stern, but they let their hand gently squeeze B’s shoulder, and B nods again. “And if you're not feeling well, you tell me.” B nods, their gaze already slightly glazed, and A fights back the urge to head for home right that moment. Trust them. They’ll say something.

The market opens, and soon A’s swept up in orders, chatting with friends and neighbors, hurriedly moving about their stand to ensure everyone has what they need. Out of the corner of their eye, they see B seated on one of the barrels they brought.

Good, A thinks as they take the money from another customer. They're taking a break like they're supposed to.

The morning continues, cold and cloudy and breezy, with a steady stream of customers buying their goods. It isn’t until a lull in the customers later in the morning that A sees C, a fellow vendor and friend from a neighboring farmstead, come by with a grey wool blanket tucked under their arms.

A shakes hands with C and the two exchange pleasantries about the weather, the harvest, the town news, and everything in between as A gathers up C’s usual order.

Then, C holds out the blanket. “For B.”

A takes the blanket, a puzzled expression on their face. “What?”

C gestures behind them. “Poor thing’s looked miserable all morning, and we had an extra blanket in our wagon. D said they couldn’t bear to watch them freeze for another minute.”

A whirls around. Sure enough, B’s curled up on the barrel, visibly trembling and clutching their coat close to themselves, and most definitely not the picture of health.

A takes the outstretched blanket and hurriedly nods to C in gratitude, then rushes back to B, who looks awful. All the color is gone from their face, their lips are a faint purplish-blue, and their teeth are chattering. When A takes B's hands, they feel like ice. A should have known that B would be too easily chilled in weather like this, especially considering how under the weather they’d been.

“B, what happened?” A briskly rubs B’s hands before tucking the blanket around B, then rubs their shoulders for good measure.

B tugs the blanket closer, shrugging. “Got c-cold.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“D-didn’t want t-to bother you. We need the money.”

A curses under their breath, wrapping their arms around B and pulling them close, wincing as they feel how frail B is in their arms, the near-constant shivers that wrack their frame.

B’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “I s-should have s-s-stayed home.”

They weren’t better after all, A thinks grimly. Helplessly, they look around the stand—boxes of goods that need packing up, loaded back into the wagon—and then there’s B, who’s practically collapsing in A’s arm, who A desperately wants to get out of the wind—

Before they can even begin to feel the full weight of the crushing guilt, C’s in their line of vision, eyes full of concern. “Go home. We’ll take care of this.”

“C, I can’t—“

“A, don’t worry. We’ll pack it all up. You can stop by the farm whenever to get it.”

A can barely whisper a thank you through the lump in their throat, then turns to B. “Alright, B. Let’s get you home and warmed up.”

Gone is the easy chatter of their ride into town—now, B just curls into A’s side, face buried in the blanket, soft, keening whimpers as they press their body closer to A and their warmth. Around them, the smallest snowflakes begin to fall, little glittering shards that dust A’s coat and make them will their horse to go faster.

When they arrive home, A practically leaps out of the wagon, B in their arms. A hurries B inside, setting them in a chair and stoking the coals to get the fire high. B’s trembling from head to toe, and A hastily covers them in another blanket, vigorously rubbing their arms. “There you go. I’ll get something hot for you to drink, then get you in a warm bath. How does that sound?” A tries to keep their voice even. B’s teeth are chattering too hard to respond.

After putting the horse and wagon away, A gets to work heating some canned broth from their pantry, then helps spoon feed sips through B’s lips when they’re shaking too hard to hold the bowl.

When they’re finished, A realizes that B’s ghostly pallor had been replaced with glassy eyes and high spots of color on their cheeks.

“B…how are you feeling?” A’s tone is cautious, warning.

“Cold,” B rasps, and still they shivered and clung to the blankets as they hunched close to the fire. “Need…need the hot bath.”

A palms a cool hand on B’s forehead, and their worst fears are confirmed. Whether B’s fever had never been gone or had relapsed when B had gotten chilled, it was back with a vengeance. They’re sicker now than they had been all week.

“B, you’ve got a fever. I….I can’t.”

B’s eyes are wild, feverish, desperate. “Please. Even a minute or two.” Their voice cracks on the last word, and they cough feebly.

“B, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

After a few minutes of desperate pacing, a compromise was reached: a small washbasin filled with heated water so B could soak their feet and hopefully take the edge off their chills.

After being dressed in the softest clothes A could find, B’s tucked into bed under two quilts pulled up to their chin.

B coughs feebly and tugs the blankets over their nose. Outside, the wind howls as a fall storm blows through, small icy pellets pelting the windowpanes, and B shudders weakly. “The wind. I can still feel it in my bones.”

A doesn’t feel a draft—only the stuffy air of an overheated cabin. Still, they smooth the quilts over B’s body before covering them with a third blanket, gently hushing them. B grasps the covers, squeezing their eyes shut as a single tear escapes.

“Please, A. I’m so cold. I want to go home.”

Great. Now they’re hallucinating.

“You’re alright. You’re inside where it’s warm.”

“Please, A. I want to go home.” B’s voice cracks on the last plea, and A can’t take it any more. They crawl under the covers with B, wrapping them up in their arms and hugging them close, feeling the fever burn through the layers.

“I’ll keep you warm, B. Just try to sleep.”

B rolls over to face A, and A can just catch the tear tracks in the flickering light of the fire. But it’s only a moment before B buries their face in A’s chest. So A hugs them closer, whispering soft, encouraging words as they try and lull B to sleep.

#cold whump #fever whump #sickfic whump #this has been languishing in my inbox for a while #so HERE #*throws shiny object your way*

242 notes · View notes

dreamauri · 11 months

Note

max c oc!/ self insert driver reader? i love these kind of fics!! esp when it’s an enemies to lovers, maybe their both competing for the championship🥲

♪ —𝗢𝗛 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬 max verstappen x fem! driver! OC! reader (angst to fluff + smut) “. . . you never back out of a fight, and neither does max. but the turn of events was surly unexpected.”

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( tag list | requests )

2015

"This is not fair!" You shouted in the radio as you drove the car back on the track, trailing the Dutch driver. "HE PUSHED ME! WHAT IS THIS SHIT SHOW?!" Cuss words dripped from your mouth as you caught up to max, taunting and pressuring him to weaken his defence enough to pass.

"NO! BLIND MOTHERFUCKER!" You shouted, slamming your your hands on your steering wheel angrily. He oversteered into you, crashing you out both into the wall for good. "COME HERE." You pulled your seatbelt of, running after him as soon as you were on your feet.

Standing his ground, Max took the the opportunity to tackle you to the ground first, pinning you on the ground face down. "CAN YOU SHUT UP?" He was angry. Why was a dumb blond crashing into him when she should go put on make up or buy some new high heels.

"NOT UNTIL YOU LOSE YOUR TONGUE." Kicking your foot back, you delivered a good slam to his sensitive organ, pretty much killing him. While you got up, Max was still whimpering on the ground, face red. "Asshole." "Says you. You're a stupid fifteen year old blond virgin who cant drive." "OH YOU'RE ASKING FOR IT—"

"OH! Anaki kicked Verstappen again. That must hurt." "I can't even look, she's putting her whole strength into that kick." "We can confirm now that Froi does not skip leg day."

Walking back you your car, you stepped on his back, putting your whole weight on. "Verstappen scum."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2017

Walking down the pitlane, crew members and camera men made sure to stay out of your way seeing how you were going to crush the water bottle in your hand from the amount of rage you were radiating. "You might want to run away." Christian warned, there was nothing going to stop what was to come next.

Max looked where his team principle did, eyes widening as he started walking away for an escape. You never showed him mercy, and he knew he's be dead by the end of this one.

Throwing the metal bottle with precision, you hit Max right in the back of his head, making hm wince and turn you with a look of anger. Charging towards you, ready to tackle you down, you dodged putting your leg out to trip him.

"That's for costing me a win." You growled, raising your elbow to drop on him. Your revenge was short lived as someone quickly held you back. Getting up slowly and wiping his nose, he glared daggers at you. The only reason you were not suffering because the two of you were in public.

"Bitch." He mumbled ready to attack only for someone to hold him back. "Say that again." You dared him, venom leaking from your words. "Bit—" Safe to say he wasn't going to have children anymore.

You pulled yourself free as you watched the Dutch fall on his knees and chest, hands between his thighs. "Pussy." You spit, walking back to your garage. "I hate you." He shouted after you.

"Hate is not a strong enough world to describe how much I despise you, darling." You called back, throwing back a middle finger.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2022

"Flight is cancelled. Come back in another seven hours." You repeated, laid on your back face covered by your jacket. You've been waiting in the first class lounge for eternity now, and every now and then people would come and ask you the same question.

Instead of hearing the person leave, you felt someone shove your legs harshly off the couch. Snapping up into sitting position, ready to argue with the disturber of your short-lived peace. You're eyes met with your rival.

"Ew. Get off, rat." You shoved him off, going back to your laying position. "Can you not for once?" He was at his limit with you, pushing your legs off and sitting back down. "Not when it's you." You rolled your eyes covering your face with the jacket again, going back to sleep as you pushed him off.

"I've had it with you!" He ripped your shoes off, throwing them across the empty room. "Hey!" You kicked his side getting up to retrieve the puma, only for Max to lay in your stop. "My spot." "Stop being a child."

"Oh I'm sorry. Are you jealous that I'm still living a childhood you never had?" You mocked, throwing the heel of the shoe at his groin. "What is wrong with you?! Fuckin' Hell! Stop fucking obsessing over my dick like a slut!" "Oh you wanna see obsession?"

Max's legs had been shaking the whole flight, and you sitting a few seats behind could only smile as he winced with ever move and shuffle. He heard the occasional giggle come from you, and when he looked back, you raised your tomato juice pretending to give him a toast.

Arriving in Bahrain was easy for you. You loved the country and its people so it was easy to find your way around. Unlike someone who had to take the golf cart through the airport because he was dying on the inside.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Whoops. Not sorry." You hummed as you lapped the Redbull driver, slightly throwing him off the race line. "Haha, look at him stirring around like an idiot." You laughed in the radio as you watched him struggle in your mirrors. "Alright, byebye." You sighed comfortably, zooming away easily to lap the next car head.

Being on the podium was fun, a great start to the season as you danced happily under the shower of champagne. "This is how you do it~" You sang laughing, a certain Dutch driver caught your eyes as your engineers carried you back to the garage on their shoulders. You held up your trophy, showing off with a bright smile.

you were so dead.

When Max found you in the hotel later that night, he was quick to pull you in a corner out of sight, slamming you in the wall. "You're driving me insane." You looked at him for a moment before feeling a light bulb spark in your head.

"Aww, I'm sorry." You trailed a hand down his chest slowly, looking him deep in his eyes. "Froi." He growled gripping your wrist before it went to far down. "Lets play a game." You whispered in his ear, free hand slowly unzipping his pants and reaching inside slowly. "What are you— fuck—"

Max could only lean his fore arms on the wall as you worked your hand. The same one that had punched his dick a few days ago. He could've stopped you or said no, but he let you, his body shaking from the contrast of the pain and pleasure, blue eyes looking deep in your honey green ones.

A muffled groan sounded through his lips as he finally came in your hands. "Good luck next race." You patted his back, wiping the substance on his shirt walking away. Max could only stay in his place, frozen as he caught his breath slowly.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He understood the game now. You were playing dirty. Distracting him the way you did was successful as you danced on your halo after securing pole position in Saudi Arabia. He'd be starting behind you tomorrow, and that angered him.

He can play the game too.

Pulling you aside once he got the chance, you could guess why. And for the next 3 hours, Max was on his knees, face between your thighs as you sobbed from overstimulation. He liked hearing you so venerable and weak, begging as you gripped his hair. "Verstappen, enough." You could feel your legs shake, the only thing holding you up were his strong arms.

"Sluts shouldn't talk." "I'm not a slu— no no no. Enough. Please!"

He liked this.

And so the battle continued, on and off track. Your fights were slowly decreasing in the eyes of the media and people didn't know why. Your battle off track was the one that decided the winner, the one who threw off the other the most had already secured his trophy the night before.

Of course you two never had full out sex. You never held hands. You never kissed. Never marked. You didn't like each other, right? Right? You never fight it when he pushed himself in your room in the middle of the night.

You don't pull away when he drags you out of sight.

You didn't stop him when he digs his fingers into your core.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The season dragged through and through and the championship was tight between the two of you. You'd practically be alternating each weekend on who had P1.

You'd raise your middle finger to him and he'd raise his to you. It was funny from the side lines really, watching you the two go from kicking each other ( you to him ) to mild insults after each race or qualifying.

Some people would say you matured and others would say the FiA threatened to suspend you for the behaviour ( the fia couldn't ever, you were bringing in money with each fine ).

It was at the Italian grand Prix when rumours truly began to form. When it came to the after party to celebrate your win, you went all out and embraced all types of alcohol, somehow concluding with you switching Italian the whole night.

Max who had gotten second place in the race sat a few chairs away from you, drinking from his glass as his eyes followed you. He could already imagine what he'd do next, and it made his pants tighten. What pulled him out of his thoughts were a group of guys chatting with you, touching you.

Why did that anger him the way it did? It shouldn't have. What did for him was you trying to pull away. He didn't even know how he got there but he secured a good punch to one of the guys face. Too bad for him, the others could fight.

Pnce he got the chance, Max lifted you up on his shoulder, bolting out of there. Goodness knows what would've happened if he didn't step in, and that scared him and bothered him deeply.

After conforming that you were indeed a safe distance away from your assailants, he set you back down on your feet, feeling cold without your body heat and it stirred his stomach sick.

Quickly taking your wrist, he dragged you along to try and find his way back to the hotel. "I wanna dance." You demanded, standing still and pulling him back.

"Froi, I don't have time for this." "I beg to differ. We have all the time in the world, Max." You pulled him closer to you, taking his hand as you twirled yourself.

That was the first time you called him by his first name, and it made his heart flutter.

Say it again.

"Please let me know that it's real. You're too good to be true." You turned into his chest, your finger trailing up his neck and jaw as you looked deeply into his ocean blues. "Can't take my eyes off of you." You sang, glancing down to his lips as Max leaned down slowly, his hands finding your hips and back as he pulled you close.

He could feel your breath on his lips and your heart beat in your chest. Dipping down with the courage he put together. His heart sank when his felt you push him away from his face. "Ew. No way."

Shatter.

'What was I thinking. She doesn't like me.' He thought, sighing as he walked behind her, hands in his pockets as he eyed you in your short red stain dress. He wasn't any better than those other guys with the way he treated you and the way touched you. Thy way he watched you. The way he thought about you.

The way he wanted you.

Finally finding your hotel, he walked you up to your room. "God bless." You groaned falling on your bed. Gently kneeling down, Max started undoing the straps of you heels, committing the mistake of looking up where your dress rode up your thighs.

Setting your heels aside, he was surprised when you pulled him ontop of yourself his collar, a mischievous smile on your face. "What's that in your pants?" You teased. Looking down, Max was quick to put a hand over his crotch, attempting to hide the forming boner.

"I saw it already. You can't hide from me." You giggled, hands slipping under his shirt and pulling it over his head. The Dutch watched as you traced your finger along his skin, drawing shapes and lines aimlessly.

His heart was thumping. Why was he feeling like this? His breath hitched feeling your other hand where he needed you the most. "Anaki." He found himself begging as you pushed him on his back. Your hands were quick to unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down.

"I swear it keeps getting smaller everytime." You teased, taking him in your mouth. "Not- not small." ( he's a good 7.6 inches ) He said in between grunts, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

This was out of norm for him, being so gentle with you. Treating you like a piece of glass, cupping your cheek to guide you gently. Unlike the usual when he's rough and unforgiving.

"Ugh fuck." He felt himself relax after his release, his thumb caressing your cheek as you pulled away. He watched you open your mouth, your saliva and his seamen dripping down on his stomach.

"You're playing nice." You commented, crawling up and tracing kisses on his neck. "Mhm?" Max hummed, closing his eyes and leaning into your touch. His hand trailed up your back gently, prompting you to pull off your dress. The blond could only admire you, hands caressing and exploring your delicate skin.

"You're beautiful." He promised, cupping under your chin as his lips traced your body. "Max." There it was, calling his name. "Hmm?" He asked flipping you over so he was on top, finger hooking on the hem of your underwear, pulling it down slowly.

"Max." His heart flutterd as he gently held your thighs, aligning himself to you. "Need you." You whispered, hooking your heels around your waist.

No. This was wrong.

You were drunk. Despite how much as he needed you, and how much it hurt not to be inside you, he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

A moan sounded through the hotel room as he slowly sunk his two digits in your core instead.

After covering you with the blanket, Max reached for his shirt, pausing through the process to look at your sleeping figure. 'If I leave now, everything will go back to the way it was. And if I don't, I have no idea how she'll take it . . . Fuck it.'

Slipping back in bed after he cleaned you up, Max hesitantly pulled your bare body into his, sharing your body heat for the night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"No." You gaped making the newly showered Dutch flinch and freeze in his place. He was leaning his back on the bathroom door frame, toothbrush in his mouth.

After staring at each other for two minutes, wondering why the fuck he decided to NOT wrap a towel around himself: "What the fuck?!" You shuffled backwards in the bed falling off. "Ow!"

"Shit." Jumping over and getting to your side of the bed, Max peaked over checking on you. He was greeted with a pillow smacking his face. "Ow! Relax!" He pulled away, holding your hand before you attacked him again.

"Relax?!—" "We didn't fuck. Chill." "Chill? Verstappen, you're naked in my room." You reasoned trying to pull away only for the man to pull you back up on the bed. 'Fuck. Go back to using my first name.'

"You're fine. I helped you get back and you played around." 'That's odd. Nothing hurts.' You thought looking at him suspiciously. "Your joking." You chuckled darkly, seeing his dick harden. "I can't help it alright?" He grumbled embarrassed, pulling you closer and turning you around.

"Hey! Hey!" You protested trying to crawl away. "Anaki! Can you relax and stay put for just a second?" He questioned, holding you by your hips. "No!" You fought back only to be pulled back on your knees, hands held behind your back. "Anaki. I'm losing my mind. It hurts."

Hearing him say your name so desperately threw you off. Before you knew it, he was humping your thighs, his free hand between your legs to pleasure you as well.

This was different. This wasn't fighting or competing. This was love making ( well, less than half way there ). You could feel it in the way you moaned and the way he treated you like a fragile flower. "Verstappen-" "Max. My name is Max." He corrected you, letting your hands go so he could hold himself up and not squish you.

"Max." You repeated, feeling him lean down and press soft kisses to your back and neck. "Yeah?" He could feel your breaths pick up as you leaned up into his chest. He closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You and Max haven't fought in a while." "So?" You shrug, acting oblivious. One of the biggest cons of F1 was the interviews, the paparazzi, the media.

"Do you have anything to comment about that?" "Eh." You shrugged, setting your elbow on the table, leaning your chin on your hand. "You guys are boring." You yawned looking at the press conference crowd. "You tell me." Max, a few chairs away, commented leaning his head back bored.

"What's going on with you and Max?" Lando asked once you escaped the press conference. "What is going on with me and Max?" You returned the question, walking backwards. "Well you're calling him by his first name. And there are rumors going around about you dancing with him in the streets back in Imola." He whispered that last part through gritted teeth.

"Oh, do you have a crush on Max? Are you scared ima steal your man?" You joked taunting him. "What?! I don't like Max!" "Ouch." The Dutch commented as he passed by.

"Lando likes you." Carlos patted your shoulder as he passed by. You raised your eyebrows surprised, looking at Lando to confirm the statement. "I- well-" Lando scratched the back of his neck nervously. You could only giggle wiggling your eyebrows as you walked away backwards.

Max crushed the Redbull can, overhearing the conversation. He just got you, he's not losing you.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I brought nuggets." He said once you peaked through the hotel room door, holding out the two 20 packs. You opened the door all the way, looking between him and the nuggets. Should you let him in? Should you send him away? What does he expect? What do you want?

Max could see the thought train running through your eyes and you could see the nervous gulp in his throat. "Please. Give me a chance. I'm sorry for all the bitch shit I've done to you. All of it. I take it all back."

"Give me a chance, Anaki."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Being in a secret relationship was difficult to say the least. There was tension between you and Max. Hungry glances in press conferences and deep eye contact from across the paddock.

Max wanted to hold you, he too felt empty with you so far away from him. He wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so they can back off. Especially Lando. And although Max knew you would never go out with the boy, he was getting pissed off with how much the McLaren wasn't giving up.

Keeping an eye on you from across the bar, Max watched as Lando tried to hit on you. You could only watch amused as Lando leaned his side on the bar, listening to a story he was telling whilst sipping his whisky. "Have I ever told you about the time I went backpacking in Europe?"

He'll no. Max knew what was coming next and he did not like it.

"I didn't order this." You told the bartender looking at the fancy drink infront of you. "It's from him." A smile crept on your face as you lifted the glass, taking sips from the probably expensive alcohol. "Thank him for me."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I don't like the way he looks at you." Max grumbled as he pulled his shoes off, tossing them in the rack only for you to tidy up after him.

"You know I'm yours." You leaned down kissing him gently. "He's practically undressing you." He humbled, gently pulling your ancle up and taking the uncomfortable heels off. "I don't even want to know what goes through his head." He grumped tossing the heels away, picking you up and walking with you into the apartment.

"Max, I have legs. I can walk." "I don't care." He threw you on your shared bed, tossing you a pair of shorts and shirt from the closet while he changed into shorts. "It just— I know I'd love you way better than anyone else." He sat beside you, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Max, you broke my nose in 2016." "I apologized! I'm sorry!" He looked at you eyebrows begging. "Here, punch me, break my nose. Return the favour." He closed his eyes, bracing himself. "Max—" "Do it." He flinched hearing you shuffle closer, but all he felt was you kissing his nose gently. "You're an idiot. I'm dating an idiot."

"You love me?" You asked once he opened his eyes, referring to a few seconds ago. "I— yes." He stuttered nodding. You could only smile as you looked into his eyes, dipping closer to catch his lips with yours.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2023

"And Froi wining in formula one 4 times from pole, is going to win from pole again and end the season with celebrations for Ferrari. Anaki Froi wins the Abu Dhabi Grand prix and is the first female champion of the world!"

"YEES!!" You threw your hands up in joy and euphoria as your engineer confirmed your title. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! GRAZIE! GRAZIE!" You could feel happy tears happy tears stream down your face as you ran your hand over your helmet.

"YEAH! LETS GO!" Max in the car behind you was also celebrating, not his second place in the race, but your championship title. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! WOHOO!"

Jumping out of the car, you were quick to jump into the arms of your team, hugging and praising you as you cried in their arms. Pulling away, you looked at Max who climbed out of his car.

Might as well, no?

You rand into his arms, hugging him tightly as he did the same. "I'm so proud of you, Ani." He held the sides of your helmet shaking you back and fourth as you laughed. "So proud." He undid the strap, pulling the protection off, before pulling his helmet off. You caught his jaws with your hands, connecting his lips with yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Once he pulled away, he held your hand, getting down on one knee.

"Double the joy for me, my darling. Marry me. Lets spend our nights eating cereal when there is a perfectly fine table behind us. Marry me. We can go to the movies and sit in the back row just for us to make out like kids falling in love for the first time. Marry me. slow dance with me in our bedroom with candles on our nightstand."

Dropping down on your knees, you pulled him in a bone crushing hug, nodding yes and you squeezed him tight. "I'm all yours, forever." You nodded.

Your favourite thing about that day was not revealing your relationship to the world, your engagement to your lover, but the look of utter confusion and lostness on Christian Horner's face.

voice notes 🔊 . . . ( this took a way too sexual turn, damn. sorry it took me so long to write this. i really liked it so i hope you enjoy. i wanted to test out second point of view using OC (anaki froi), hope that didnt ruin it )

739 notes · View notes

debonairprincesposts · 28 days

Note

You answered my question perfectly and I'll be sure to request more Lucifer in the future (love our short king). But this time I'd like to request Charlie x reader angst if that's okay (totally not inspired by your last request 😅 and sorry it's a bit long).

Reader planning an evening out for their 1 year anniversary (with help and ideas from Lucifer), based on when she's supposed to be back. It's not until later on in the evening the reader finds out she's forgotten/changed her mind and gone for an evening out with Vaggie instead. Reader leaves a crumbled note on top of a bouquet of flowers and a new dress/suit they had brought just for her and that evening. Note is your typical breaking up and leaving, with the reader leaving the hotel to try and not be found and blocking her number.

Omg anon! I have no idea where you keep getting these ideas from! They’re absolutely *Chef's kiss*

I also just love how the reader and Lucifer are basically just bonding over Charlie. And I don't mind how long your messages are! I just love reading you guys' thoughts.

Anyway! Here is the angst you requested! Hope you like it :)

Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

Forgotten

Charlie x Reader

You were filled with anticipation for today, a mix of excitement and nervousness. After all, it's your and Charlie's one-year anniversary! Your desire is to ensure that the day is flawlessly wonderful! You plan on buying her a gift and giving it to her during dinner.

One small issue tho-

You have no idea what to get her.

Maybe you could ask someone? Someone who's known Charlie for a very long time. Someone like maybe-

Lucifer!

Surely he'd know! He is her father after all. Surely he wouldn’t mind you calling about a matter such as this, right?

In slight anxiety, you pick up your phone to dial in Lucifer’s number. He gave it to you once Charlie revealed you two’s relationship to him. Saying to call him should you need anything cuz you are his ‘future Child-in-law’. You just hope he’s free enough to answer his phone.

He picks up on the third ring, “Hey kid! How are you doing these days?”

“Hello sir! I just uhm- kinda need your help with something.”

“Of course! Whatever you need, dear! What’s up?”

“Sooo- today is Charlie and I’s 1 year anniversary and I don’t know what to get her. I plan on buying her a gift and taking her out for dinner, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to get her. Do you perhaps have any ideas?”

Lucifer let out a gasp, “Totally! Maybe you can buy her new suit? She loves those.”

That’s brilliant! How come you didn’t think of that before!

“That’s a marvelous idea, sir! Thank you for your help!”

“Always happy to help, dear! Have fun with your anniversary!”

You both bid each other goodbye and hang up.

Okay! Time to go shopping!

You spent three hours trying to find the perfect suit. And it was absolutely beautiful. It should fit Charlie like a glove. She’ll absolutely love it. Now! All that needs to be done is give her this suit to wear and take her out for dinner! You try to give her call, but it went straight to voicemail mail. Worry fills your heart. It’s getting closer and closer to the time of the reservation and she’s still out of sight.

It’s getting pretty late, you’ll miss your reservation if you don’t leave now.

You go down to the lobby, maybe someone knows where she is. You see Husk and Angel Dust at the bar. Maybe they know.

“Hey guys! Have you seen Charlie? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“Haven’t seen her either, toots. Why? You need her for something?” Angel Dust turns to you as soon as you get closer.

“I’m taking her out for dinner, but she won’t return any of my calls.”

“She’s been out with Vaggie since this morning. Hasn’t been back since.” Says Husk before taking a swig of his bottle.

“I-I see. Thank you.”

Husk and Angel shoot either other a worried glance as you left. You were a pretty good friend to them. They didn’t like seeing you upset. But they figured it’s best they give you some space.

Another hour passed. You had completely missed your reservation. Being by yourself for a bit gave you time to reflect on your time with Charlie. It made you realize that this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. It always felt like you were a second priority to her. Every time you’d want to spend some time with her, she’d always make excuses about how she already made plans with Vaggie. And you know what? You’re done. If she wants to hang out with Vaggie so bad then you won’t stop her.

In your fit of heartbreak, you write a letter. The letter’s contents are that of a break up. Explaining how you’re done with her. How you’re done with always being second place. How you’re always second priority. You spent three freaking hours picking out a suit for her just for her not to show up.

After finishing up the letter, it being all crumbled from how hard you were gripping it and being stained with your tears, you take the bouquet of flowers you were going to give her and leave it on her bed next to her suit.

This is goodbye.

You start packing your bags. You weren’t going to stay with someone who never cared for you as much as you cared for them. When you’re done, you leave your phone behind. You’ll make sure to buy a new one with a new number and everything.

You exit through the fire escape and never look back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

Another request fulfilled!!! Finally! I was struggling with how I’m supposed to write this, but I think I made a decent piece. Hope you like it anon! Hopefully it’s up to your standards! Sorry it took me so long to write this. Anyway!

Stay healthy and hydrated!

Bye babes! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #charlie x reader #charlie #hazbin charlie #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk

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simpforrooster · 2 years

Text

but she’s my best friend

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader

you and rooster have been friends for years. growing closer over your summers spent with your aunt penny. over time, your feelings develop past platonic, but rooster doesn't seem to notice...that is until he notices another guy interested in you and he goes crazy.

t/w: mentions of alcohol, jealous rooster, I think that's all.

“Honey, I think that spot is plenty clean,” your Aunt Penny says, taking the hand towel from you.

Your best friend, Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, just came in from the beach with Hangman and Coyote. His denim shorts are slung low on his hips, and he's got an open Hawaiian shirt draped on his shoulders. No shirt underneath. Glistening with sweat.

“Pretty soon, everyone is going to stop buying that ‘just friends’ shit,” Penny giggles.

This finally gets your attention, pulling your eyes from undressing your so-called best friends.

Friends can appreciate when the other looks good, right?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you grumble, taking the towel back from her, tucking it into your back pocket.

Before she can add anything, the man himself stalks up to the bar.

“Barkeep! I need something to cool me off!” Rooster slams his hand down on the bar, his eyes sparkling with laughter. You meet his smile with one of your own.

“Careful, Roos, you don’t want to be caught disrespectin’ a lady. Aunt P has been itching to ring that bell all day.”

Rooster leans over the bar, giving you a sweaty kiss on the cheek. “I’d never disrespect you, boo.” He’s called you that for years, and every time is makes you melt a little.

Shaking your head at him, you pop the tab on his beer and slide it over to him. He brings the bottle to his lips, and you have to distract yourself with an imaginary smudge on the bar to keep the thoughts of his lips on yours at bay.

You and Rooster have been thick as thieves ever since your pseudo Uncle Maverick introduced the two of you during your first summer break here in Fightertown USA. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when your feelings developed past platonic. It wasn’t like you saw him often growing up. Just over the summer until you graduated high school, and moved in with Peggy and Amelia. Maybe it was the way he always made sure to stay in touch. Or the way he hugged you real tight before leaving for a mission. Always whispering in your ear that he would be safe and see you soon.

Rooster throws you a wink, and saunters over to Hangman and Coyote. Just as Hangman let go of the dart he was aiming with, Rooster smacked it out of the air, earning a “Fuck you” from Hangman.

“Yeah, just friends my ass,” Penny shakes her head, counting bills out in her hands.

Rooster has been watching you all night. After your shift, you briefly left the bar, and came back an hour later dressed to fucking kill. A red, oversized dress hung off one shoulder, and Rooster has always loved when you wear red. He thought it made your Y/EC pop.

You paired the dress with your signature sneakers, and Rooster was having a hard time concentrating on his conversation with Bob and Phoenix.

You throw your head back in laughter at something the guy who’s been chatting you up says. When you lean forward, your arm landing on his, Rooster is up on his feet.

“Yo, Roos, what’s up?” Phoenix says, taken aback at his abruptness. Rooster doesn't say anything, but his jaw tightens as he looks at the guy. Phoenix’s eyes move toward you and realization hits her.

The guys leans down to your ear, whispering something that makes your face flush. His eyes dart toward the door, and consideration settles in your eyes. His stomach drops, as he watches that guy’s hand settle on your waist.

Why aren’t you shaking off that touch?

“What is she doing?” Rooster whispers to himself. He’s never known you to go home with any of the bar patrons before. You’ve always been close to his side, a constant, pleasant presence.

His best friend.

What’s this guy have that Rooster doesn't?

Mixed emotions rush through his head, and it almost makes him crazy. He’s never felt this possession over you until tonight. No one has ever made him feel like he needed to compete.

Not even Hangman.

No, even Jake has kept his distance from you. And Jake isn’t one to back down from a pretty girl.

You were absolutely a pretty girl.

Rooster turns to Phoenix, and she gives him a smile.

“What’s happening?” he asks no one in particular.

Phoenix nudges Bob, “He’s finally realized.”

Confusion pulls Rooster’s brows together. “Realized what?”

“Come on, man. You’re in love with Y/N. You always have been,” she gestures to you, still talking with that guy. He hadn’t gotten you outside yet.

“But she’s my best friend,” Rooster says to himself, like he’s trying to reason with what is happening. 600 different emotions run through his head, but the only thing he can grasp is that there is no way he can let you leave the bar with that loser.

You’ve been stalling for what feels like minutes with Aaron. He was nice enough, a coms guy for the base. Easy enough on the eyes, but he wasn't Rooster. You thought you’d be able to make a decision on giving him a chance or not, but you couldn't make yourself leave with him.

Not when Rooster was staring daggers into the side of your face. Aaron slides you another drink, and you smile a thanks. He pushes his glasses up on his face and looks around the bar. You can tell he’s growing antsy. He only invited you to go onto the beach, where it was a little quieter.

You notice Jake over at the jukebox. Slow Ride plays a few seconds later, and he gives a pointed look to Rooster.

This seems to wake him up, because he’s no longer burning a whole into your cheek, but rather coming over to you. No, more like stalking his way over.

Rooster comes up beside you, his chest heaving against your shoulder. His eyes move toward Aaron, and if looks could kill, Aaron would be Rooster’s first confirmed kill.

“Can I see you outside, Y/N?” Rooster murmurs, his voice strained. The use of your first name catches you off guard, Rooster rarely uses it.

Before you can agree, Rooster has a firm grip around your wrist, pulling you through the crowd.

“What are you thinking?!” he lets out, totally catching you off guard. His breathing is heavy, and you’re so lost as to what is going on. “Do you even know that guy?”

Confusion turns to anger. “What does it matter? I was getting to know him.” You cross your arms over your chest. After this afternoon’s exchange with Rooster, you knew you wouldn't be able to wait around for him forever. After all these years of friendship, if he felt different, he would have told you.

“Yeah, I'd say. I haven't seen you all night.”

What has gotten into him?

“Well, maybe I am sick of following you around like a puppy waiting for something to happen.” You hope your words hit him like you want them to.

They do, because Rooster takes a step back, as if your statement shoved him back.

“But you’re my best friend,” he murmurs more to himself than you.

“I’m afraid that’s all I’m going to be to you, Bradley,” you whisper. Rooster’s eyes shoot over to yours at the use of his name.

“When he put his hand on your waist, I almost lost it,” his voice is strained, like his is wrestling with something going on in his head.

“Roos,” you start, but Rooster stops you. Closing the distance between the two of you, he brings his hands up to your face. You let yourself involuntarily lean into the touch.

“I didn't realize it before tonight. You've always been a constant in my life. No body has ever threatened that before. Seeing you with him made me see red,” he says, his lips a breath from yours. “I don't want to share you with anyone else.”

“I didn't realize I was yours,” you whisper.

“I’m in love with my best friend. I think I always have been,” he says softly. Those brown eyes that you've memorized over many years stare into yours.

Bradley leans down, and closes the space between you. Your brain short circuits for a moment, before you come to. You grab the collar of his silly Hawaiian shirt and pull him closer to you, completely basking in the moment.

“So all I had to do what make you jealous?” you grin when he pulls away.

Rooster rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

masterlist

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #rooster x reader #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #bradleybradshaw #rooster #rooster x you

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