#this ask is from the beginning of the year 💀
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bad parents — 𐙚
dad!chris X mom!reader
summary: your parents meet your daughter for the first time and it doesn’t go very well.
warnings: crying, teen pregnancy (don’t do it wrap it up) and cussing (lowkey slightly swiftie reader)
a/n: i gave the daughter a name so that it seems more realistic yk. i also know it was supposed to be like both parents are bad but i got halfway through and realized i did it wrong 💀
my parents were never good parents. well i say my parents mainly my dad. my dad was a bitch and my mom just went along with it. my dad always yelled and argued. he always found something he disliked about me. he was never supportive of me whatsoever so when i found out i was pregnant at only 15 it did not go well.
i ended up moving in with my boyfriend chris and his family at the very beginning of my pregnancy cutting all ties with my family. that was until out daughter delilah was about two years old.
for the last three years now my mom has been begging to meet her and i’ve done everything i can to keep it from happening. i could not stand the thought of my dad around my daughter. i refused to let him treat her they way he treated me.
“mom i have told you multiple times no” i argue with my mom who is on the other line begging for me to bring delilah over. “but she’s out granddaughter” “yea no that train left when you kicked me out” i said look up to see chris walking through the door.
“anyway mom i’ve got to go bye” i say hanging up the phone sighing. “what was that about” he says setting his stuff down on the kitchen table walk over beside me. “just my mother trying to get me to let her and my dad meet delilah”
“oh im assuming you said no” “well yea my dad treated me like shit my entire life and she just let him. they kicked me out when they found out i was pregnant i am not about let them ruin her too” i say sighing and rubbing my forehead.
“yea i get it” chris says kissing my head and wrapping his arms around me. “where’s delilah?” “she’s upstairs playing. delilah honey” i say yelling for delilah.
a few seconds later we hear little footsteps coming down the stairs. “daddy!” she says running to chris as he picks her up. “hey sweetheart” he says kissing her cheek and fixing her dress. “how was filming?” i ask chris as he turns towards me.
“it was good. we filmed reading fan fiction again” “oh lord” i say chuckling. “daddy can we play barbie’s?” delilah ask tapping chris’s shoulder. “of course baby” “mommy do you want to play?” “baby i would love to but i’ve gotta make dinner” “it’s ok you can play after” she says smiling playing with the necklace on chris’ neck.
"i finally got delilah to go to sleep. i had to read her like three books" chris says walking into our shared bedroom while i sit at my vanity taking my make up off getting ready for bed. "i wish i had the energy she has" i say laughing as chris sits down on the bed looking at me through the mirror.
"you know... ive been thinking and please don't get mad at me when i say this but maybe delilah should meet your parents" he says holding eye contact with you. "what. you can't be serious" i say scoffing as i turn to face him. "ma come on they're your parents"
"no they're not. if they were my parents they wouldn't have kicked me out. they would have helped me but instead your parents got stuck doing that." i say obviously very pissed he would even suggest that.
"i know but they want to be apart of her life" "well they're about five years too late" i say turning back to face the mirror. "what about this, we let them meet her and we will see how it goes and go from there. we can always keep her away from them if they don't treat her right" he says trying to reason with you.
"you know what fine. one time but if it goes wrong im blaming you" i say turning towards him once again. he smiles as he stands up walking over to me. "thank you ma" he says and he bends down placing a soft kiss on my lips.
"hey is she ready?" chris says walking into the bathroom as i finish pulling up our daughters hair. "yep all done" i say as she stands up on the counter. she's wearing this absolutely adorable baby blue dress with little ruffles. "hi daddy" she says walking over to him throwing her arms around his neck.
"hi baby you looks so beautiful" he says placing a kiss on her temple causing her to giggle. "thank you daddy" she says with her little lisp. "and so do you ma" he says smiling down at me placing a kiss on my lips. "ewww" delilah exclaims causing both of us to laugh.
i was wearing a beautiful baby blue sundress to match delilah. "mommy where are we going again?" "we're gonna go out to eat with my parents baby" "oh ok" "what time is it babe" i say looking over at chris as he pulls out his phone.
"5:40" "ok come one we gotta go can you help her with her shoes please" i ask as he nod and i walk out the room. I grab my purse making sure i put my phone in it and zip it up.
"yall ready?" i say as chris walks into the room after putting delilah's shoes on. "yep lets go" he says as we walk out the room and out the front door. Chris opens my door then opens the back door for deliliah buckling her into her car seat.
"ok you guys ready" chris says getting into the drivers seat and turning on the car. "daddy can we play taylor" deliliah says causing a smile to spread across my face. "of course baby" chris says laughing at his daughters actions. "that my girl" i say turning towards the girl as she lets out a giggle.
"ok are you sure you want to do this" i say as i face my childhood home. "yes the real question is do you" he says grabbing my hand. "well its got to happen at somepoint" i say before turning towards my daughter in the backseat. "baby listen to me if they say anything that makes you uncomfortable you let me or your daddy know ok. we will leave whenever ok" "yes mommy"
"ok lets do this i guess" chris says turning off the car and getting out. i follow not long after him as he grabs delilah out of her seat. "hold my hand sweetheart" chris says grabbing delilahs hand to make sure she stays out of the street. chris looks over at me and can tell by my face im still not so sure about this. "ma its going to be ok" he says grabbing my chin and placing a small kiss on my lips.
i smile at him and then change my focus to our daughter. "ok come on lets get this over with" i say as we walk towards the door keeping delilah between chris and i. chris knocks on the door, my mom opening it a few seconds later. i feel my breath hitch as i haven't seen her since the very beginning of my pregancny. chris noticing my change in breath and rubs my lower back.
"y/n" my mom says moving over allowing us to walk in. "hi mom" i say as she looks me up and down. "you've grown up so much" she says pulling me into a hug catching me by surprise. “and you must be delilah" she says as she pulls away moving her attention over to the little girl.
delilah clutches onto chris leg as she looks up at my mom. "hello chris" she says looking over at chris who still had his hand in deliahs. “hey” he says as we follow them into the dining room where my dad is already sat at the table in "his spot". my dad never even looked towards us, he was so angry when i told him i was pregnant but i didn't think he would be so cold towards us.
"take a seat. i tried to make things i know kids like" my mom says chuckling as we all walk towards our seats. "thank you im sure she will eat it shes not picky" chris says pulling delilah's chair out along with mine. "let me go grab the plates ill be right back. you talk to your daughter" she says pointing at my dad causing me to roll my eyes. its sad when your mother has to tell your father to speak to you.
"y/n" he says turning his head towards me. "hi dad" "uh how are you" he says obviously not really wanting to engage in a conversation. "im great actually" "well thats good" he says right as my mom walks in with the plates "okay dig in everybody" she says handing everyone a plate. "you want a little bit of everything baby" i say looking over at the girl in between me and chris.
"yes please" she says as i add some of everything for her making sure to add more mac and cheese because that's her favorite food. "here let me cut her chicken up" chris says as i hand him the plate letting him cut up her food into smaller bites. "here sweetie" he says setting the plate in front of delilah.
"thank you mommy thank you daddy" she says gabbing her fork immediately taking a bite of the mac and cheese. "youre welcome baby" i say as chris, my mom and i make our own plates. "so how have you been y/n" my mom says looking over at me.
"ive been good thank you" "how about you chris? are you still doing youtube?" "oh uh yea my brothers and i are" he says as my dad scoffs. he always hated the idea of chris doing youtube. he always thought that wouldnt be enough to raise a kid.
i can feel my mom kick him under the table as i roll my eyes. "how is it going" my mom says returning her attention back to chris. "its going really well actually we hit 6 million not to long ago" he says smiling over at my mom. "6 million thats incredible congratulations" my mom says squeezing chris' hand. "daddys famous" deliliah says giggling looking up at him.
my mom smiles over at her as she continues to let out little giggles. "shes adorable" my mom says looking over at me. "what do you say baby" "thank you" she says shyly. "you had to tell her to say thank you?" my dad says as my head snaps towards him. "shes five" i say coldly as he rolls his eyes.
"well im just saying you we're saying thank you on your own by the time you were five" "well maybe its because i got yelled at if i didnt" "it worked didn't it" "maybe but it did show me how i will not be treating my child" i say as he rolls his eyes.
"you're doing a great job" my mom says trying to take the attention off my dad. "thank you mom. that means a lot" i say smiling over at her. "and you too chris" "thank you really" he says as she smiles at him. "hows your mom" she ask.
"shes great. shes been so helpful" he says smiling over at her. "thats great im glad she was there" "me too" he states smiling over at me. "i hope you guys don't mind me asking im just curious do you plan on having another kid" she ask looking over at me. "at some point yes we haven't really decided when though" i say responding to my mom. "i want a sister" delilah says smiling over at my mom shyly causing her to chuckle.
"yea that's been her most recent obsession. she's been begging for a sibling" chris says laughing. "mommy can i have some more mac and cheese" "you’ve gotta ask her baby" i say pointing at my mom. "may i have some?" delilah ask looking over at my mom. "of course you can" my mom says smiling over at the little girl as a smile lights up on her face.
"more really?" my dad says looking up at me. "what" i say looking over at my dad. "i told her she could have some, we have plenty" my mom says shocked he said anything. "its not that she cant have some im just shocked they arent restricting her" he says as i scoff. "shes five" chris says glaring over at my dad. "yes but not restricting her now will lead to bad habits and you don't want that" "shes a child she can have as much mac and cheese as she wants"
"but you need to keep her in line. you dont want her gaining weight. speaking of weight i dont really like that dress shes wearing. it makes her look a little big" he says not even looking up from his plate. i bite the inside if my cheek before turning my head towards chris. "take her out to the car because im about to lose my shit" i say. he picks up delilah who now has tears running down her face.
"its ok baby come one" he says walking out the door. "there you go being dramatic once again" he says rolling his. "oh what the fuck is wrong with you" i say raising my voice a little. "who the fuck do you think you are talking to a five year old like that" "ok now you’re just over reacting" "no im not. you have no right talking to my daughter like that. do you see why i kept her from you so long?" "i never wanted to meet the kid. i never wanted this life for you, i never wanted for your future to be taken from you by a dumb kid. i tried so hard to keep that boy away from you. I never liked him, he doesn't have it in him to be a good father. hes too young to know what thats like." he yells as my mom just sits there looking down.
"hes a way better father than you ever were. did i think i would be a mother so young? no but i wouldnt trade it for anything. im happy, chris is happy and most importantly my daughter is happy. he is the best thing that has ever happen to me. he the most incredible person i know and hes a incredible father." i yell standing up out of my seat.
"mom it was good seeing you thank you for having us but i just can let him talk about my kid and husband like that" "husband?" my dad say looking up at me. "yea we got married a year ago but you didnt want anything to do with me so i never told you." "well congratulations honey" my mom says as i nod at her. "thank you and thank you for having us" i say as a turn to walk towards the door.
i walk out the door to see chris standing outside the car with delilah in his arms. as i walk closer i can hear the small sobs coming from the little girl. "oh baby" i say as she looks at me. i take my thumb and wipe the tears from her cheek. "im so sorry honey" i say kissing her forehead. "you look so beautiful sweetheart" chris says as delilah lays her head on his shoulder.
"can we go home" she says in between sobs. "of course baby" i say as chris opens the door to put her in her car seat leaving a kiss on her forehead before closing the door and turning to face me. he wraps his arms around me puling close to his chest. "im sorry i made you bring her" he says as a i shake my head. "i don't want to talk about it in front of her" i say as he nods and opens the passenger side door for me.
"ok i put her to bed. she was half asleep when we got out of the car so it didnt take long" chris says walking into our bedroom to find me sitting on our bed in pajamas looking down at my phone. he sits down next to rubbing my back. "are you ok?" he says which causes me to just break down. tears start to pour down my face as a i shake my head. "oh ma im so sorry" he says as he pulls me on to his lap causing me to straddle him.
i wrap my arms around his torso burying my head into his neck. " you knew it was a bad idea and i insisted we take her anyways and i am so so sorry ma" "how could he do that" i let out trying to control my breath. "because hes evil" "i-i thought he would at least be nice to her even if he didn't like it. and then insulting you after you walked out. who does he think he is" i say letting out another sob as i raise my head up.
"we never have to see him again ok ma i promise" he says as i nod laying my head back on his shoulder. he continues to hold me there tracing shapes on my back slowly causing me to doze off. i feel him pick me up a few minutes later l feel him pick me up and lay me down on the bed. he trys to walk away but i grab his hand and groan. "ill be right back i just need to go change" he says as i let go of his hand.
not to long later i feel the bed next to me dip and chris arms wrap around me. i bury my face into his chest quickly faling back into a deep sleep. "good night ma i love you" he says before falling to sleep himself
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆
requested by: @chrisgetsmewet i hope you like it. this is my very first dad fic so i might be awful 😭
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo texts#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#x reader
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Just popping in to say love your art so much. I love all your oc and commission stuff (can’t wait to hear more about all of them). You are my favourite aftg artist!
I smile literally every time I see your username and your art brightens my day. I hope that you continue to grow and am so genuinely excited to see more of your work!
I send you all the love <3
THANK YOU SO MUCH this means a lot to hear ahhhh 💕
Speaking of royal stories and ocs. If you wanna hang out while we slowly build an original storyline you can come follow my less-used oc blog and see not only Luke and Easton but these two “newbies” Q and Bo (respectively) 👀
#this ask is from the beginning of the year 💀#I’m so sorry#if you’re still around. I love you dearly thank you#gonna have to change Bo’s hair he looks too much like Neil’s 😂#i even have a different hairstyle for him usually I just decided to mess around this time#wait does that mean this ref is good for drawing Neil’s hair#anyway#my art#ocs#my stuff#not to like. cross contaminate this blog sorry#asks
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current level of boredom while being mildly poorly (=not poorly enough to just lie down doing nothing but poorly enough to not have the energy to do anything thought-consuming): tagging all my shippy asks/posts ✨💅
ps. if anyone knows how to use the mass post editor to actually mass-edit tags in a convenient way I'd appreciate the help 🙏 like, idk if it's even possible to find all the posts I have tagged as x and edit the tags of all those posts at once? 🤔 so far I only know you can find tagged posts on your own blog by adding /tagged/x at the end of your url and then editing the tags manually one post at a time 🥲
#all these years on the hellsite and i still haven't figured out how to use the mass post editor for anything useful 💀#anywayyy literally no one cares but the tags i've been using so far are:#olliallu ollixalluxjoel joonasxniko joelxolli joonasxolli#i also have previously tagged some random posts as joeleksi#yes it's very inconsistent but i had already tagged posts as olliallu but then i realised joonasniko looks kinda dumb 😪#so joonasxniko it is i guess 😐 funnily enough olliallu looks alright?? but i kinda also want to start using ollixallu from now on#because now it just bothers me so much that one of them is diffferent in style 😭😂😭#i think i've tagged shippy posts with them as joonas/niko before but i'm gonna have to change that 😑#since the / does not work that well in tagging ugh#i just started so i've only managed to tag about a fraction of the asks 💀#man i wish i had had a proper tagging system for asks from the beginning#i never saw the point and idk if there's any point to tagging them afterwards either but ehh i can't write fic so what else should i do#also idk how much sense any of those posts make ''out of context'' but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe at some point this might come in handy#(also also yes i can't write fic i don't have the energy to concentrate and anyway i'll probably need to start it all over again 😩)
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Trust me cake, these ones you haven't are probably some of my best (and darkest) ones yet hehe.
Just give us all the high sign whenever those kind of submissions are allowed again on your dumpster blog
I hope life is going well for you and that you find success in all of your endeavors!
Haha godamn, you definitely been on the works XP
Excited to see them, tho it's most likely something I'll be open once I'm back posting my comic, since that means less work
#honestly man I've never felt this drained from school before💀💀#but most teachers are ass and I'm in a course i never wanted to be in to begin with#but it was the only professional course that involved art so i took it#I'm only here to end school in a 3 (now 1 year since this is my 2nd year) period#cake talks#cakes asks#ask box
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every day my tolerance for clownery impossibly gets higher if I'm still sane by the end of this year I'll legit change my name or something
#it's just one last year kavya you can do this#guy in my class gc asks for work and i send it#he says thank you and then another guy proceeds to ask for the same work. one message later#and guy /1 is like bruh scroll up kavya sent it#guy /2 who is apparently incapable of scrolling up 0.5 cm goes *okay now can you send all the work from the beginning of the year*#guy /3 asks for same fucking work again#AND ALL THIS WORK IS STRAIGHT UP COPYING YOU LITERALLY JUST NEED TO COPY IT DOWN FROM THE BOOK#guy /4 messages me on private asking okay can you send ME all the work from the beginning of the year (cause he's so damn special)#oh and none of these losers have ever acknowledged my existence except for asking for work at school 💀#legitimately can't wait to get out of here#vagueposting the shit out of tumblr dot com
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic
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THIN LINE
based on this thought
pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
genre: fluff, a bit of angst, descriptions of killing, they’re like in love ig, ooc!snow (he’s still crazy LMAO), SPOILERS for the ballad of the songbirds & snakes, Snow and reader being disgustingly touchy 💀
summary: in which there is a thin line in between yours and coriolanus’ friendship and something more, leading to a sudden shift in your dynamic
“Coryo! I passed! Coryo!” You shriek in excitement as Casca Highbottom passes one of your papers back. It had taken quite your strength when you were given the task to make new proposals and implements for the new Hunger Games, crying to your best friend Coriolanus about how you’ll never get it done on time.
“Oh yeah?” He asks, looking over at your paper. There was a bright red A+ along with the sloppy cursive writing of Good Job Miss. L/N!
“Good job,” Coriolanus says, snaking his arms over to pull you back into his chest, placing a sloppy but soft kiss on your cheek. “Knew you had it in you.”
The scene makes Arachne Crane let out a moan of disgust, rolling her eyes as she turned to another corner.
“What’s wrong Arachne?” One of her friends asked, and she only points to the two of you, who were too engrossed in each other to notice.
“Snow and L/N, are we even surprised?” Livia let out a huff of irritation.
When Casca Highbottom announced that you all will be meeting in the largest room of the Academy, you thought it was to finally announce the winner of the Plinth prize. The only rightful ones were you and Coriolanus, anyway. And maybe Sejanus, the boy whom you’ve gotten soft for these past few days.
You and Coriolanus entered arm in arm, avoxes had wove through the crowd of students with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with herbs and honey.
Coriolanus quickly grabbed two goblets, handing one to you and then chugging it quickly down his throat. For a minute, it burned.
“Oh there you two are,” Arachne waves you over, her face gloomy. “Obviously, no amount of bribing would make Sejanus tell me who won the prize. Not like it matters, we all know I deserve it most.”
There was an eye roll from Felix Ravinstill. “Sure Arachne, and I’m the richest man on the planet.”
That earned him a scowl from the girl, who then turned her attention to Sejanus. “He can have as much money as he wants, but he’ll always be district, you know.”
A few of your classmates laugh, nodding in bitter agreement as they watched Sejanus conversing with one of the professors.
“Right.” Coriolanus mumbles, surprising you. He hadn’t ever agreed with Arachne before—calling her a psychopath even—so why was he now?
“Oh please,” the girl snaps back. “You and Y/N are friends with him.”
“We tolerate him,” Coriolanus says, his hand that was holding yours became tighter. “He’s district.”
When Sejanus comes, the murmur of your classmates grows silent, and from the looks of it, he could already tell they weren’t saying much good about him.
“It’s time to assign the tributes.” Is all he says, motioning to Dean Highbottom.
“As you all know, the Plinth prize and money would usually go to the student with the highest mark,” Highbottom begins, clearing his throat. “But this year, we’d like to do something different.”
You can tell Coriolanus has stiffened in his seat. Even though you want to hold his hand and caress it, you know you can’t, so you keep your desire inside.
“Whoever is the best mentor among all of you will be able to win the Plinth prize.”
“Oh that is not fair!” Livia complains. “What if I get some poor weak district girl and she dies 2 minutes in the games?”
“It’s not just about your tribute winning,” Highbottom says, “you will be assessed.”
You and Coriolanus sit through the announcement of which mentor gets which tribute. You had gotten Coral, a girl from District 4 while Coriolanus had gotten the girl from 12. Lucy Gray Baird, apparently.
“Hey, you okay?” You say as you two stepped out from the Academy. “Look at me Coryo.”
He looks up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed and his face upset.
“He hates me.” He says, referring to Dean Highbottom. “Always has, always will. Gave me the worst district of them all.”
“Hey,” you say, cradling his face as your eyes quickly scanned his. “Don’t say that. We saw Lucy Gray on stage, she can sing and she sure as hell can put on a charismatic personality for the crowd. You’ll be okay, Coryo.”
“I don’t know,”
This was the first time you saw Coriolanus so upset, so lost in his thought. Without a second thought, you pulled his head towards you, giving him a long kiss on his jawline.
“Sleepover tonight?” You ask as you pull away.
“Sure, I just have to tell Tigris first.”
That night, you and Coriolanus talk about your futures under your warm white covers, limbs tangling one another.
“Do you ever want kids, Coryo?” You ask, saying anything that came to your mind.
“Maybe.” He replies. “Only if I find a girl as worthy as you.”
His words make you smile, pulling him closer to your body. “As worthy as me?”
“Mhm. Or else I’d marry out of convenience. For profit. To ensure no one takes advantage of me.”
You shake your head, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I hope that never happens, Coryo.”
“I hope it never does either.”
You turn over to turn off your nightlight, snuggling yourself under the covers as Coriolanus throws an arm around your frame.
“Goodnight Coryo.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
- - -
After Coriolanus’ little involvement in the tribute cage, Highbottom, to say the least, was unimpressed. He claimed Coriolanus was breaking many of the Academy rules, including endangering an Academy student. However, he agreed to let the mentors visit their tributes and offer them water or food.
You were talking to Coral, handling her a glass bottle filled with water. If you couldn’t get her out of here, the least you could do is hydrate and feed her.
You turn to look at Arachne, who was busy swinging water in front of her tribute. Her tribute almost looked pitiful as the bottle always seemed to swing out of her reach.
Coriolanus was talking to Lucy Gray, a little too close for your liking, but you knew it was just to discuss strategies.
“You think you’re gonna make it in the arena?” You ask Coral, who only glared at you, taking small sips of water at a time.
“Hey.” Coriolanus suddenly comes up from behind you, once again wrapping his arms around your shoulders before bringing your face in for a long kiss on the cheek.
“Hi,” you giggle, continuing to hold on him as you turned your entire body to face him.
Coral let out a scowl of disgust, eyeing you and Coriolanus up and down.
“Coral, meet my friend, Coriolanus Snow. He’s Lucy Gray’s mentor.” You say, pointing at the girl who was currently talking to another tribute; Jessup, you think his name is.
Coral doesn’t respond, only continuing to snarl at the two of you.
“They’re like wild animals,” Coriolanus whispers in your ear.
“Hey pretty boy,” she finally speaks, smirking from ear to ear. “You were on the truck earlier.”
“I was,” he replied curtly.
“Maybe I can’t kill you—but I’ll definitely kill your tribute.”
Before you could hold Coriolanus back from jumping at Coral, you all hear a scream.
Arachne’s tribute had somehow managed to grab the bottle of water, smashing it against the metal cage and stabbing Arachne directly in the throat with it.
“Oh my god!” You scream, running over to the girl. Although you and Coriolanus disliked her, she was still your classmate, and someone who you spoke to on a regular basis.
“You two, off.” The peacekeepers say, grabbing ahold of you and Coriolanus; dragging you away from the scene.
- - -
The walk to Coriolanus’s home was quiet, aside from occasional twig snapping and leaves falling.
“I’m scared,” you finally say, staring up at Coriolanus. His icy blue eyes bore into yours before they softened.
“I know,” he says, cupping your head in his hands. “I know you’re scared, that should’ve never happened.”
“But it did,” you say, placing your hands into Coriolanus’s coat to keep them warm. “What if it happens to us next, Coryo?”
“Hey.” Coriolanus’s face is only a meter away from yours, lips almost touching. “I’ll never let that happen to you, do you understand? As long as I’m alive, no one will hurt you.”
You nod, a few tears rolled down your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Coriolanus wipes away your tears with his thumb, one of his fingers caressed your cheek lightly. “They’ll have to shoot me dead before anything can happen to you.”
And before you could let out another one of your worries, Coriolanus leans in, placing a much awaited kiss on your lips. He pulls away for air after a minute, forehead against yours.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever.”
#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#hunger games x reader#the hunger games#hunger games
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The Interview | Lando Norris⁴
Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader
Warnings: smut
Requested: yes
A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3
Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.
Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.
As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.
“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"
"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.
His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.
"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"
Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.
"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.
Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.
Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"
For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.
You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"
“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”
“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."
Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.
“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.
Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.
You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.
“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.
You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.
You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.
The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.
Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.
While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.
"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”
As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.
As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.
You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.
The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.
Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.
“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”
"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.
You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.
Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.
Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.
Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.
“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.
“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.
Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.
“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.
Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.
“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”
His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.
Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."
Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.
Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.
Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”
You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.
You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”
Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.
“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.
His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.
“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”
“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.
“I was getting myself comfortable—”
“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”
His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.
In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.
Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.
As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.
“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.
You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.
“Then kiss me,” you breathed.
Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.
He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.
He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.
His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.
Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.
Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.
Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.
He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.
You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.
He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.
He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.
You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.
You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.
He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.
He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.
Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"
“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.
You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.
Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.
“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.
You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.
Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.
“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.
You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.
Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless.
You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.
You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.
You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.
As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.
With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x oc#lando norris x female reader#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris one shot#lando norris smut#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n#ln4 smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fic
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pretty pretty please 🩶
imagine ghost is forced to speak at a school’s career fair because he’s out on medical, and reader gets sent with him to chaperone. (i.e. make sure he doesn’t scare any kids to 💀. and also maybe to feed him some slightly manipulative praises so he stays in a good mood lmao)
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You’re both standing in the principal’s office. The school was kind enough to offer you a private room since kids are a little rowdy today, and Ghost isn’t very fond of tiny hands tagging at his uniform and asking him “how many people he has killed”.
You’re holding two balaclavas; one is black, while the other is a deep shade of army green.
“It’s either this one or that one.” You say while raising both to his eye level.
He pushes your hands down and points to his skull mask. “No.” He states. “I’ll stick with the one I’m wearing.”
You frustratedly shake the balaclavas to your sides. “Come on, Lieutenant,” you plead, “you’ll scare the kids.”
“Have you seen kids these days?” he asks, raising his hands. “These fuckers are not afraid of anything!”
“Oh god,” You wince and toss the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. You shake your index finger at his face like a teacher disciplining a misbehaving student. “Don’t you dare to swear in front of them!”
“Have you heard, kids—”
“—these days.” You cut him off with a flick of the wrist. “Yes, but there’s no need to reinforce bad behaviour.”
He lets out a long exhale and places his hands on his waist. He begins pacing around the principal’s office, swearing under his breath. You’re trying to figure out whether he needs to let it all out before his big speech or if he’s cursing the moment he has agreed to do this.
He pauses in front of a painting hanging next to a window overlooking the school’s playground. He slouches and places one hand on his lower back, rubbing his injury.
You approach him from behind and gently grasp his forearm.
“Hey,” you whisper, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replies sternly. “Never mind.”
“Are you in pain? Please talk to me.”
“I’m not in pain!” He protests. “In fact, I wasn’t in pain to begin with, when the medics decided that I was,” he makes air quotes with his fingers, “temporarily unfit for duty.”
You place a palm on his lower back and begin rubbing it. He relaxes at your touch and puts one hand on the wall to support his weight.
“You talk about not reinforcing bad behaviour,” he murmurs, “but I’m not the best role model either.”
“Bullshit!” You scowl.
“Seriously,” he insists, “I highly doubt I’d be here talking to kids about their future if I hadn’t been injured.”
He’s correct, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially now, as you wait to enter a classroom full of kids. Any other team member would be far more qualified for this role. Gaz is such a cool guy that most kids would deem him a god. Price feels like the father you wish you had when he talks, and Soap can adapt to anyone he speaks to. Even you would be a better fit for this year’s career fair. But, Ghost? No, not at all.
“Come on, Simon,” you say as you continue rubbing his back. “It’s less about ‘being a role model’ and more about relating to them.”
“How am I supposed to relate to them?” He wonders, “My childhood was nothing like theirs.”
“How do you know?”
He looks at you and motions towards the window. “Look at them,” he says, “they’re full of life.”
“Not all of them are like that, Ghost; some are putting on a show.” You explain, and he turns to look at you again. “They look all jolly, but they might struggle at home or school. Worse, they can’t admit what’s happening behind closed doors because they’re either ordered to remain silent or not understand it themselves.”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Now I can relate to that.” He murmurs.
“See? You need to spot these kids and indirectly talk to them.”
“Spot?” He asks. “How do I spot them?”
“You mean to tell me you’re trained to spot targets from miles away but can’t see when a child suffers in silence?” You ask back. “Plus, it takes one to know one.”
He nods. “And what should I communicate to these kids?” He asks. “How do I help them?”
“By showing them that there’s something better waiting for them out there.”
“Don’t be naive, Y/N. How is what we do better than what they’re going through right now?”
“It’s not about the military, Simon.” You elaborate. “It’s about giving them another chance. They deserve to know there are options other than turning into their drug-addicted mother or alcoholic father.” You lean forward so he can meet your gaze. “Someone gave you a second chance, right?”
He closes his eyes and ponders your words. You tilt your head at him, trying to predict what he’ll say next so you can respond quickly.
But he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he straightens up and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he begins, “I gave one of those speeches to a school a few years ago.”
“Oh!” You cheer and pat him on the back twice. “Did you, now?”
“Lysychansk, Ukraine.” He recalls, “I was being held hostage with a bunch of kids.”
“Tell me more about it,” you say, sitting on the principal’s desk and playing with a pink highlighter. He begins narrating his story, and you can tell he’s becoming more confident as he realises he’s spoken to children before, albeit in a very different context, but who cares? What matters is that he is becoming more at ease with his “previous experience.”
You, in turn, try to give him your full attention, but now that his doubts have subsided, your primary concern is that mask of his. He needs to take it off.
“See? You’re far more experienced than any of us!” you shout. “And in that setting? My god! None of us would have been able to do such a thing!”
He chuckles and looks proudly out the window at the children playing in the school’s playground. He seems to be looking forward to it now.
“Hey, um, sir?”
He shifts his focus to you.
“Your mask, sir; It’s dirty,” you say as you point to his cheek.
He puts his hands on his mask. “Where?” He yells.
“It’s right….” You get up from the desk and take a step closer to him, inspecting his mask. You raise the marker and draw a bright pink line across his cheek, “...there.”
He immediately places his hand on his cheek, looks at the highlighter in your hand, and then back at you.
“You... motherfucker...” he murmurs.
You move away from him and stand behind the desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go out with that mask on; the parents will be furious.” You point to the balaclavas on the principal’s desk. “You do, however, have two other options! Take your pick, and I’ll see you in class in 5 minutes!” And with that, you rush out of the principal’s office and into the school’s corridor.
You enter the classroom and greet the kids with a smile, trying to hide your nervousness. Walking towards the back where the parents are seated, your mind starts racing; Is he trying to choose a mask, or is he cleaning up your mess? What if he’s so furious that he doesn’t show up, leaving you to give the speech? Worse, what if he enters the classroom and takes his anger out on you?
But, the door opens, and Ghost walks in. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. He’s not wearing any mask. Not the black one, not the green one, not the skull—with the pink streak—mask on. Nothing.
You observe him moving around; despite his lack of disguise, he maintains his composure. He greets everyone in the room, smiles, waves back at the kids and stands next to the teacher. You let out a relieved exhale through pierced lips. This is going well, thank god.
As the teacher introduces Ghost to the class, you turn to give him a thumbs up, and his eyes lock with yours. There’s a faint smirk playing on his lips, and your heart skips a beat as he silently mouths something in your direction: “You’ll pay for this.”
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A/N: YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, ANON! I was forcing myself to take a break from writing, only to be slapped by an inspiration wave. Hope you liked it, though; I had fun making it.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x y/n#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley fic#simon ghost riley fanfiction#cod ghost#ghost cod mwii#ghost cod mw2#ghost cod
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Harleys in Hawaii
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend
Words: 4.5k
A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii
Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇
Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least
“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs
“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”
This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”
“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”
“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her
“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out
“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air
“…Did I say something wrong?”
“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”
“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”
“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”
“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”
“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”
“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”
“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are
—
You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things
Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife
Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study
Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there
Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-
“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”
“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion
“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder
“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends
“Sam’s friend is really hot.”
“Understandable” Chad nods
“Definitely ask her out”
“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts
You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over
“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?
“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend
Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”
“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”
You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”
“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles
“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion
“So, what exactly do you need help with?”
Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).
A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)
“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans
“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”
“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks
“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her
“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly
“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor
“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car
Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter
When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind
First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on
A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after
“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”
“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does
“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”
“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm
“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body
—
Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere
“Wanna go to the movies?”
“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”
“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone
“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you
At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack
When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door
“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff
“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it
“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table
“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”
“I think that’s just you being old”
“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice
“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”
“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor
The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her
“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs
“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”
“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”
“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart
The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat
“Dude, how are you so good?”
“I guess I just have more experience”
“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child
“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”
“We have Uno” Sam suggests
Oh how foolish she was.
Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans
“Please are you two almost done?”
“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads
“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”
“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!”
“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter
Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?
Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo
“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers
“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin
“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”
“Your baby?”
“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder
“You named your motorcycle?
“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”
“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further
“You never answered my question”
“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”
“But would you mind?”
“No, you’re my friend”
A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do
Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat
“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.
Oh but she does
Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately
You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily
“You alright, Tar?” You bend down
“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity
“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”
“No, I mean stay here.”
“You… You want me to stay in your room?”
Tara nods.
“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.
“I won’t be far, I promise”
“I don’t care you’re older than me.”
“W-What?”
“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers
“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again
“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her
“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature
“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”
“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”
“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone
“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice
“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight
“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”
“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas
“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles
“…can I wear your shirt?”
“I’m right here, you know”
“I wanna be closer to you”
“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark
You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.
Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later
“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly
“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”
“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“
“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”
“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam
“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders
“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”
The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open
“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck
“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”
“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion
“Tyler the creator”
“Is he any good?”
“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”
“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night
Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter
—
You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments
Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug
“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks
“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”
“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”
“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”
“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”
“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”
“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”
“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”
“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes
“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed
“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”
“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”
“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately
—
“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”
“A lot like being 22”
“Noting different?”
“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”
You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend
“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”
“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”
“Aw you’re no fun”
“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants
“Mhm, and what type of fun?”
“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples
Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her
“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks
“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight
“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“
“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name
“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh
When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead
—
“So, what’re your plans for the break?”
“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”
“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”
“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”
“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead
“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”
“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes
“Kiss it better?”
—
“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”
“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”
“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm
“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”
You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.
“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it
“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”
“…Aesthetic?”
“You’re not that old, love”
Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara
“Aviator or round?”
“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face
“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”
Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving
Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you
With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you
#jenna ortega x reader#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega#scream#tara carpenter#scream 6#tara carpenter scream#chad meeks martin#mindy meeks martin#sam carpenter#anika kayoko
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Bestfriend Jeno who invades readers privacy and goes through her computer filled with videos of ykyk💀
warnings. errrhhmmm🤔 masturbation, yeah..
“Damn, he really did a number on your phone.” Jeno’s fingers drag down the shatter of cracks distorting your screen, neck ticking to the side. “I can definitely fix it though.”
“You can?”
“Yeah, I worked at one of those phone repair kiosks a couple summers ago, these screens cost a fortune to get fixed you know? I have a lot of leftover supplies, can probably find something in my stash that will fit.” He informs, patting your shoulder. “Means you’ll have to be disconnected all day though, is that okay?”
“I guess, have some lectures to get through and a group project to finish so I’ll be at the library most of the day if anything.”
“Alright, write down your passcode and maybe your apple log in just in case.” Jeno nods to a notebook, grabbing a pen to hand you.
“Why the log in?” You hesitate, eyeing your phone nervously.
Jeno shrugs, holding your phone out to you. “I only want to help, I know you’re kind of down on your luck right now. I understand if you want to be around when I fix it but today’s one of my only free days for the rest of the week, so..”
“No no, it’s fine.” You sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. “I might be back late, don’t know how long this meeting with my group will take. If you could leave my phone on DND? I’ll probably still be texting from my laptop.”
“Yeah, not a problem.” Jeno nods to his notebook, smiling as you scribble down your passcode and password. “I’ll get this all fixed up for you, free of charge.”
“I’ll have to repay you somehow..”
“What are friends for?” He laughs, motioning to the living room area scattered with your belongings. “Shit happens..”
“Thanks Jeno, everything you guys have done for me..” trailing off, you murmur shyly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and Jaemin for helping me out like this.”
“Don’t worry about it, focus on school.”
After bidding you goodbye and good luck with your project, Jeno moves to his bedroom, whistling to himself as he traces down the largest crack on your phone screen. “Gosh, what a dick..”
He didn’t ask what the fight was about, the timing didn’t feel right with you sniffling as he and Jaemin helped you carry your belongings in. He never liked your boyfriend much anyway, or well, ex-boyfriend..
Jeno boiled it down to jealousy at times, whenever he’d have to witness the unfortunate public displays of affection between the two of you. It’s not that he likes you, not necessarily.. but your friendship hadn’t exactly stemmed from genuine interest in forming a platonic relationship. It just so happened that while he had one idea, your mind had already honed in and focused on another.
“Eh, I always knew he wasn’t right for you.” Jeno mumbles to himself, tapping your phone screen to the image of your now ex-boyfriend’s lips squished against your cheek. “Gross.”
Jeno gets to it, unwrapping a new razor to begin removing the old screen topper first and see the real damage. Lucky for you, he’d gifted you a durable screen protector when you’d gotten a new phone. Great for dropping, not so much for a crazy boyfriend hurling it at a wall though.
He’s pleased to see the damage is a lot more minor under the protector, mentally patting himself on the back for handling that for you in the first place. A text pops up lighting the bare screen. “Oh right, do not disturb.”
Jeno taps in the passcode, swiping down to turn off notifications only to come to a pause as another text comes in.
‘It’s easy money, I did it my first year of college to cover rent, and you're shit out of luck at this point if you think a dorm will open up this far into the semester.’
He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s no way you’d find out anyway..
‘Isn’t that prostitution?’
The last text sent from you has his eyes going wide, quickly reading through the chat between you and the name he recognizes as your best friends, the same one whose car Jaemin had found you using as a makeshift home..
‘It’s not illegal in our state, and it’s anonymous. You won’t get caught or anything. Trust me, I worked there for 11 months, best money I’ve ever made.’
Jeno mumbles a ‘what the fuck.’ To himself, opening his phone to copy down the address she sends in next.
‘Besides, what difference does it make? You were getting fucked by your asshole ex on stream for way less.’
“What?!” Jeno looks around in shock, covering his mouth in case someone else is home. An arsenal of unanswered questions race through his mind, swiping to put your phone on ‘do not disturb’ finally as he takes a deep breath to calm down.
“There’s no way..” he chuckles, licking his lips nervously as he taps open your photos and scrolls until a locked album named ‘delete’ catches his eye.
Jeno spent a year learning different ways to break into stolen phones with not even a passcode to assist, the thrill of unknown has his thumb punching away before he can even talk himself out of it. Not that he would..
Why wouldn’t you immediately delete photos or videos you wouldn’t want anyone to see anyway? You can’t be that stupid..
“Oh shit.”
You are that stupid.
Jeno groans, leaning back in his computer chair as he slowly scrolls through the album of over 1000 photos and videos, most consisting of topless shots. More scandalous as he reaches the middle and sucks in a deep breath reading the time on the first video he sees.
Eight minutes and twenty seven seconds..
Patting around for his headphones, he plugs them in and opens the video up to hit play, sinking deeper into his seat as your face appears half-fucked out with dreamy eyes and saliva wet lips.
The deeper familiar voice he recognizes as your ex’s comes through, making his stomach tighten. “Fuck.”
‘How can you ask me for more after I just fucked you full?’
‘Please daddy, n-need more.’
The camera runs down your bare body, laid back against dark sheets with your thighs hoisted up and open; panning down to where white streaks of cum paint your stomach and mound. ‘Feel that? My dicks still so hard.’
‘Keep fucking me, don’t stop fucking me. Fuck that cum deep inside of me.’
Jeno pants, short of breath as he digs the heel of his palm against his groin and groans. Fuck fuck fuck… he knew it. The past few years of having to pretend he valued your friendship more than his desire to fuck you, he always knew you were nothing but a pathetic sobbing whore. The sound of your sobs and aroused whines vibrating through his ears has him ready to make a mess, smoothing in past the waistband of his sweats to free his length, he’s thankful for the point of view shot; making it easy to tune out the masculine grunts passing between your pretty cries.
‘Fuck. I’ll breed you better than that.’ Jeno voices to himself, surprised your lazy ex didn’t make you get on top. The amount of cum covering your lower half has his hips jumping from the chair, eager to fuck into his fist faster.
One thought continues to pass through his mind as he grips around his cock and strokes to match the pace pushing you up and down along the screen.
He needs to fuck you.
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yandere dilf !!
this was written in gaps, so im not that confident about it?? but here goes nothing. also i fucking love dilfs god. get me a dilf please.
also this was inspired by this one man i saw on my way to my uni admissions and he was there for his daughter 💀 put me in jail fr
the dilf here is in 40s something and the reader in early 20s n i think she switched universities to do her master’s (if you do not like this type of thing please look away <3)
gender neutral!reader (it might be implied femal but the pronouns are they/them) 1.7k words. warnings for age gap yandere behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, obsessive behaviour? dilf is a delusional yandere fr.
yandere!dilf who is (clichè i know, please look away but this is the best thing i can think of) your father’s friend, but not best friend or anything because he lives in another city, but oh you’re moving there for uni and your parents can’t think of anybody else to contact so they call him up !!
but he’s busy when you’re moving so he can’t help :(( oh but did i tell you he was the one who chose that apartment for you to move into?? it was so close to him and his friend said to keep an eye on you so he chose the one which wasn’t even like 5 minutes away. and he wants to be of help to his friend so bad but these board meetings and stuff ://
best believe that when he’s free he’s at your apartment with a bunch of new home essentials, a few groceries that you might need, and this man is ringing up your door. now neither of you had seen each other, heard about the other from the common point that was your father, yes. but to open the door and be in the presence of a man that is that gorgeous?? and he’s just wearing sweatpants and a tshirt?? god.
not to mention a thin chain around his neck that leads to inside his shirt…. kill me really.
anyway, but he’s equally taken back because um, this was his friend’s kid. literal kid. he shouldn’t be thinking about how alluring your appearance was, get your head straight, he tells himself, as you invite him. aren’t the shorts too short….
if sexual tension could have been visible, man would your apartment be full of it.
but he’s nothing but resisting, it’s how he has been single for so long, it’s not that he doesn’t like commitment, but… he likes to tell everyone that he just hasn’t found his The One yet.
“the apartment has come together nicely,” he says as he looks around and it is, you’ve done a great job at it and it reflects the type of person that he assumes you are.
you ask him if he wants something to drink? and he politely rejects your offer, he does not want this thing to escalate because knowing his track record, he can’t stand a minute more near the kitchen island and not think about bending you over, and that was normal for him but god, snap out of it, this is half your own age, he thinks to himself.
and you want him to stay, but again, it is quite fucked up to think about being fucked by your father’s friend and someone your father’s age.
“here,” he gives you all the stuff he brought with and kept it. “that’s all, i have some work i need to do so i’ll take your leave now,” he starts to leave when he looks back again “and, um, my number,”
to which you blush, but remind yourself, it’s only like an authority figure, nothing else. and he tells you his own address, in case there’s ever an emergency.
that is how it begins, and your father leaves a message for him, “please take care of them,” and he acts like it’s a burden but he’s overjoyed inside, he has an excuse…
anyway, fast forward to you starting university, getting a social circle, and he visits you weekly, awkward and short visits but you’re just glad he can grace your apartment like that, you even light up your special candles around for him to notice, and he does, but you don’t know how hard he’s just trying so hard to not snap.
when it’s been almost an year or something, he finally thinks he should sit down or you’ll catch on to him or something (little does he know that all you though of it was the fact that men like him are always busy.)
“so you’ve settled in okay?” he asks, as if the cctv installed outside your door doesn’t already tell him that you bring a steady flow of people home, friends.. un-friends and people he was genuinely jealous of. he was jealous of your friends too, because he desperately wanted to stay platonic with you and he didn’t know how they did that.
the conversation flows from one point to other and suddenly you ask him, “are you married?” and he looks startled at the question so quickly begin to apologise, you did not mean to overstep any boundaries.
“uh, i don’t know, i just haven’t found someone who i would like that much, i guess,” if the tension before was a lot, this was the worst it could get.
he leaves abruptly again, and you watch from your balcony as he pulls his car out of the parking and out, wishing he stayed sometime.
what you did not know though was the fact that the yandere was fully invested in your life, your friends, your daily errands. but this was what taking care of you meant, right?
the last straw came to him when you were at a party, frustrated by the lack of response that older man was giving you, you were desperate to get laid today even if you would end up being upset over the fact that it wasn’t him. but unknown to the fact that the yandere just had this.. odd feeling today? that he has to follow you and when he got to know it was a party? parties are never good news.
and he’s almost dozing off 2 hours later in his car, parked safely at a distance when he think he hears your voice. and sure enough when he takes a peek out, across the street is you, and wait, is that a guy following you.
“i was just kidding i really don’t want to go home with anybody tonight.”
he gets out of the car silently, and the guy who is insistent on getting his dick wet by specifically you, a statement which makes his blood boil, is too busy persuading you to notice the punch that the dilf throws at him from behind. the yandere doesn’t think about what you’ll ask about how he got there and stuff, this was serious and it only reaffirms his ideals that yes, he had to make sure you were safe and he had to follow you, god knows what would have happened if he wasn’t there.
as soon as the guy is knocked out, he looks at you and you look up at him surprised, your mouth forming an ‘o’ but noticing the haze in your eyes, he can feel relief inside.
“you’re here!” you exclaim and you are drunk, he concludes as you hug him. he might actually burst but he feels euphoric right now, as if he could cry, it was like he had this actual fear, what would he do if something happened to you? it was no longer the responsibility or the feeling of being answerable to your dad.
don’t worry after that, he drives you home, but his home. he has to make sure you’re safe at all times, right? what if someone decided to rob your place? or… the guy from earlier? what if he got your address from one of your friends? he couldn’t imagine it.
so there might be a change in plans, you don’t need to tell your dad yet though, or anybody. in fact, you might not need to go out at all. he made more than enough to sustain, and keep you safe, take care of you, like your dad asked, and he is nothing but a loyal friend, isn’t he?
now let's dive into little specifics, shall we?
yandere dilf is completely smitten, he was the first moment he saw you but right now you're at his mercy, and it gave me a hysterical kind of high.
and he is so so convinced that he's doing what he can to protect you and this is allthat can be done, there's no other way!
he brings you bits and pieces of news that are the most terrible of them all - murders, rapes, all of the worst stuff, so you realize how much of a favour the yandere is doing you by protecting you.
and your dad? as far as he's concerned, you're still going about your daily routine, there’s nothing wrong with it. he makes you call him because he doesn't want to deal with his friend, not yet.
yandere dilf is caring but he's also really short tempered, if he brings you food and you eat it silently without saying anything, he'll snap :(( because you should have said the food was good or you were happy that he brough you that, right?
but he realizes his fault quite soon, he was mature, he shouldn’t act this way with you. and he apologises, someone tell this man an apology means you would try not to do it again. because he does, he keeps on repeating the cycle.
at first you were completely opposed to whatever this weird idea was, but slowly you gave in, when you realized the heights he had thought all of this through to, all you could hope was someone to notice that this wasn't normal and help you. well, someone to notice and try to help you and not be bought off by the money that the yandere dilf gave them.
yandere dilf coddles you; at first this is how he got to break your shell, he patted your head when you did something good, something like eating, drinking water. and you loved it, as much as you hated to admit it, sometimes it felt like you put in so much efforts in your daily life to get people to love you, that it felt like a relief that here he was praising you for doing the smallest of tasks.
yandere dilf does not fuck you. he keeps himself in control, he does not even touch you if you're angry or upset at him, but he knows a few ways and he's bringing you around slowly to the idea of a you and him together creating an us.. he's getting there slowly and surely.
just… please.. don't try to escape or anything, that would really set the process back… or would it accelerate it…?
#kimsmuse’s yanderes#yandere x reader#yandere#yancore#yandere blog#yandere prompts#male yandere#yandere dilf#yandere drabble#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere writing#yandere oc#yandere darling#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere fic#yandere blurb#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#yandere x female reader#yandere x gender neutral reader#yandere x darling
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CL16 | Is It Over Now? | pt.7
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader
genre: social media au
summary: you and charles have been everyone's fave couple on the grid, but when you somewhat unexpectedly break up, you turn to songwriting to cope with the pain
face claim: léon
a/n: the finale... once again, all songs mentioned are either by taylor swift or léon. happy reading x
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
masterlist
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
Liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 1,292,849 others
y/n: End & New Beginnings. ONE WEEK.
✨Is It Over Now?~Say Don’t Go~Bigger Than The Whole Sky~You’re Losing Me~Now That We Don’t Talk~Pretty Boy✨
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user55: y/n’s latest masterpiece is incoming!!
user56: YES GIRL LETS GO
user57: omg finally 😱
user58: can’t fucking wait 💛
user59: babe are you realizing you’re releasing on friday the 13th 💀
user56: y/n is like “i’ve conquered all this year’s bad luck already, no one can stop me”
6 October
Liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 1,450,288 others
y/n: It feels like it’s been a long time coming and now it’s here, my new EP ‘End & New Beginnings’ 🤍 Been a few sleepless nights making this to be honest. Ups and downs like always. But now I’m just so happy to let go of it and let you have it, and hopefully you’ll embrace it and make it yours.
To the incredible people who’ve been a part of this record, THANK YOU! Couldn’t have done it without you…
Here’s to the end & new beginnings 🕊️
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taylorswift: Perfection 🥰✨🎼😍💋
y/n: ❤️❤️❤️
danielricciardo: ART.
Liked by y/n
lilymhe: Beautiful work sweetie, I can’t with how talented you are 🥹 You made me cry the entire 23 mins (and then again cuz it was on repeat)
y/n: Awww, thank you love 🥰 and I’m sorryyyy 🙊
alex_albon: It’s so so good! I didn’t cry tho…
lilymhe: Liar
Liked by y/n
landonorris: Wow 💕
Liked by y/n
yourbestfriend: You’ve outdone yourself once again, darling, love you
y/n: I love you more baby
user60: as someone who’s just gone through a terrible breakup too, i cannot express how comforting it is to hear these songs and realize i’m not alone
Liked by y/n
13 October
—
You let your phone drop to the bathroom counter, blinking slowly, unable to fathom the conversation that had just taken place. Had he really just said those things? Scrolling through the texts confirmed that yes, he had indeed. The bastard.
Charles had always been the jealous type. But attacking you like that when he had been the one to… It was absolutely ridiculous. Apparently he still couldn’t—or wouldn’t—grasp the depths of how much he had actually hurt you.
You’d loved him with all of your heart. Until he had ripped it out and hurled it to the floor, letting it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Yet, even then, you would’ve forgiven him. If only he’d apologised. If only he’d shown true remorse. But he hadn’t. And so you’d been forced to walk the path of mending your own heart, and move on with your life.
Perhaps a small part of you had hoped that he could be happy for you. That somehow, even after everything, you would be able to greet each other normally—that you could coexist peacefully. But as his texts just now had demonstrated, that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. And definitely not next week in Texas. You sighed. It would’ve been too good to be true, anyway. Especially considering who you were currently seeing…
A light knock sounded at the door, startling you out of those thoughts.
“Are you almost ready to go, darling?” a male voice asked, soft.
Right. Dinner. Celebrations.
You had been in the midst of applying the finishing touches to your makeup and outfit before Charles had interrupted, quite literally shocking you to the core when his name had appeared on your lock screen. He’d been the last person you’d expected to hear from today.
You swallowed the bitter taste that Charles’ texts had managed to leave behind. He wasn’t worth it, you repeated to yourself. You weren’t going to let his shenanigans ruin a perfect night—a perfect date. You ran a hand through your hair and readjusted the necklace around your neck when the bathroom door creaked open behind you.
Looking up, your eyes met your handsome, new boyfriend’s through the mirror. He was smiling, eyebrows raised in silent question, ever patient as he waited for you to finish up. You felt your pulse quicken at the sight of him, dressed to perfection in a dark suit, hair neatly tousled.
As always, his presence was able to reassure you within the blink of an eye, the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders relaxing as you gladly let all of your complex emotions fall away.
“Yes,” you nodded, a genuine smile spreading across your lips. “I’m ready.”
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
THE END
but who is she with? well, there’s a little (and not so subtle) easter egg that refers back to the beginning of part 6 that will confirm certain things… have you spotted it?
thank you everyone for coming along on this ride! it’s been a hell of a lot of fun writing and creating this story 🥰 my apologies to all the y/n x charles shippers out there, but as our songbird said: here’s to the end and new beginnings…
Now, if you'd like, please cast your votes below :)
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･
Tags: @sukisheadlights @eviethetheatrefreak @blueflorals @kiskso @dessxoxsworld @treehouse-mouse @dangeroustacoalienbiscuit @clown-fc @stopeatread @vanishingcherry @bb-swift @leclercdream @scenesofobx @kagatinkita @allywthsr @evieepepi08 @viennakarma @riverjane-d @httpjeonlicious @madnesstaking0ver @futurecorps3 @celesteblack08 @sadg3 @simxican @glow-ish @spideybv28 @laneyspaulding19 @tswizzleismother @slytherinfolk25 @merchelsea @1655clean @urgirlnextdoorr @cixrosie @lightdragonrayne @lxclerc @hopexcroc @nichmeddar @imthebadguyyy
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x singer reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc fake instagram#charles leclerc fake social media#formula 1 smau#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc blurb#is it over now?
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i’m hunting your ask box at this point but i can’t really regret it, your writing is a masterpiece each and every time 🎉
today’s thoughts : smau where y/n and charles always ‘argue’ and make comments against each other on socials, leading people to think they actually hate each other (they’re actually best friends and lovers in secret, and sit together giggling as they tweet stupid shit about each other) they admit the truth with a post of them on a date with the caption “… enemies to lovers?”
the grid know they’re good friends but not that they’re going out until the posts, lando would definitely be like “yep i knew it i called it” when he really did not
lots of love!! <3
yourusername
liked by user1, user2, user3 and 73,710 others
An iced coffee a day... (only it's just frappuccino without coffee bc I don't like coffee) 🧋
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user8 you're so real for this, queen
charles_leclerc someone needs to teach Y/N that frappuccino's are just coffee's sugary sidekick
yourusername sorry Charles, I prefer my beverages without a side of bitterness.
user2 Am I the only one that feels like Charles and Y/N don't like each other this much?
user10 Nope.
user1 They hate each other lol
charles_leclerc
liked by user4, user5, user6 and 1,402,618 others
Let the season begin 🏎️ ❤️
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yourusername goodluck, you'll need it 😚
charles_leclerc thanks, good to see you're unable to stay away from my posts 😉
yourusername someone should keep an eye on the chaos you bring to my feed. It's a public service, really.
charles_leclerc a public service? I should be charging admission for the entertainment I provide 😘
user7 okay they are UNHINGED
yourusername
liked by user2, user7, user8 and 92,610 others
is it giving 'that girl' vibes? ✨
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user4 YES IT IS 😍
charles_leclerc you're such a StarBucks addict 🧋
yourusername says the guy that's addicted to having a cup of espresso every morning
user10 wait, how does she know?
user6 OMG what if they are dating?
user2 lmao, they hate each other, I doubt they are willingly hanging out together
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, user2, arthur_leclerc and 104,175 others
no cap needed 🌎 ✈️
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user1 liked by Charles AND Arthur? I thought they hated each other?
user3 Why do I feel like we're gonna get mind fucked, they are playing a game and we're all losing 😶
user9 I'm obsessed, girl you're living our dream 😩
user5 where are you going???
yourusername 🇯🇵 ❤️
user6 THE JAPAN GP? OMG
user2 hold up, no Charles x Y/N banter in the comments?
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, scuderiaferrari and 126,710 others
@charles_leclerc have to admit, I would make a pretty good WAG 💋
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user9 OMG OMG OMG OMG
user6 WHAT IS HAPPENING OH MY LORD
charles_leclerc if only you would choose F1 over soccer 😘
yourusername I'll come back to you about that in a week
one week later
yourusername & charles_leclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, f1 and 2,516,470 others
Enemies to lovers?...
Took you a while to figure that out, happy 2 years baby ❤️
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charles_leclerc I love you ❤️
yourusername I love you more ❤️ ❤️
landonorris yep, I knew it, called it
charles_leclerc no you did not, you tried to hit on her 😂
yourusername you could learn something from his flirting skills tho, at least Lando didn't ask me if 'falling down from heaven hurt' 💀
charles_leclerc It worked though, didn't it 😉
user1 TWO YEARS ALREADY?
user7 that sixth picture though 😩 ❤️
user8 I want what they have 😍
a/n: thank you for sending in the request sweety! It really means a lot! Hopefully you’ve enjoyed it! As I mentioned before, I will have a small break. I’ve got 3 requests in my askbox atm, but if you have an idea for a story, don’t hesitate to hunt my askbox again and send it in. I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be back exactly, but it shouldn’t be too long. Lots of love 💗
#f1#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#f1 imagines#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#f1 fan#f1 fans#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfic#formula one fanfiction#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#smau#f1 smau#social media au#smau x reader#charles leclerc oneshot#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part four.
INSTAGRAM.
liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 24,727 others
yourusername here’s a sneak peek of the photos from a shoot me and my beloved did for hermès! i’m so honored to get to work with so many skilled and talented people! none of this would’ve been possible without them
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user these are stunning!! 😍❤️
user I MISSED THE RIDING CONTENT
user genuinely had no idea y/n was a rider
↳ user no fr cuz the sargeants are all athletes in some way it’s crazy!!
↳ user i think she just rides casually now 🤔 but she used to compete when they were in europe
logansargeant do i get to brag and say my sister modeled for hermes now?
↳ yourusername there’s plenty of other brands i’ve modeled for that you could brag about 💀 and it was technically my horse that modeled
landonorris ok so are you gonna take me for a ride sometime?
↳ yourusername only if you promise to do the same
↳ user WAIT HOLD ON WE'VE MISSED SOME CHAPTERS
↳ user is y/n not with oscar???
↳ user this bitch is homie hopping the mclaren boys 😒😒
You have barely enough time to respond to the knocking— or rather pounding— on your door before it's being flung open and Logan, looking very much the part of an angry brother, barges in.
“Is it true?” He asks in lieu of a greeting.
“‘Hi, Y/N,’” you begin sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “‘So good to see you, Y/N. Sorry for barging in, Y/N. Can I have a moment of your time, Y/N?’ Why of course, dearest brother of mine. What can I do for you?”
Logan doesn’t seem amused by your antics, though. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is pinched into a frustrated frown, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. He’s in his running clothes, and there’s still sweat keeping his hair plastered to his forehead, which gives you the impression that whatever he’s asking about had been deemed important enough that he couldn’t even be bothered to shower and change before confronting you about it.
You wonder, briefly, if his new trainer is downstairs in the living room or if he’s gone home already. You almost ask about it just to piss him off even more, but he looks genuinely serious and you’ve— mostly— grown past the years of purposefully picking on him to get a reaction.
Instead, you sit up further in bed and look at him expectantly, prompting him with a wave of your hand to elaborate.
“Are you dating Lando Norris?”
The question, and the sincerity with which it’s asked, startles a laugh out of you. The flash of hurt in your brother’s eyes, however, forces you to bite back the immediate retort. Logan isn’t asking to be a dick, you remind yourself.
Before you answer, you pull your legs up to your body and pat at the now free space in front of you.
He purses his lips, but eventually, he closes the door— softer than how he’d opened it— and moves to sit on the edge of your mattress. For a moment, as he looks at you, he doesn’t look like the nearly 23-year-old that he is. When you were younger, he’d come into your room and talk about his races, what all he did wrong, and what new things he was going to try next time, and the young man that sits before you now reminds you a lot of that little boy.
“No,” you answer him simply. “I’m not dating Lando. He and I are just friends.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “But do you want to date him?”
You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing your phone off the bedside table and pulling up the brief text conversation you had with Lando last night after he’d tipsily called you. There’s a frankly obscene amount of typos and more emojis interspersed throughout than you thought a guy like him would use, but the majority of it is all the details of his supposedly foolproof plan.
You take a deep breath, weigh the consequences of your actions for a split moment before throwing caution to the wind, and turning the screen to face Logan.
“I don’t want to date Lando,” you admit. “I want to date Oscar, and he’s helping me.”
Logan’s silent, and you pray that it’s just because he’s too busy reading through the messages to focus on reacting to what you’ve said. But the silence stretches on, and on, and on, and suddenly you regret saying anything. Maybe you should’ve just agreed and said it was Lando all along—
“I know Oscar better than Lando,” Logan suddenly says. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just ask for my help.”
It’s your turn to be silent now. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and close it again. You probably look like a fish, but you’re so taken aback by what he’s said that it doesn’t even matter.
“You’re not, like, mad?” You pull your phone back and let the screen fall dark, eyes focused on Logan.
He looks at you like you’re dumb, or like you’ve actually turned into the fish you were momentarily mimicking. He shakes his head— “Why would I be mad? Oscar is, like, the only driver I’d want you to date.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“I mean, the others are all nice, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies. “I’m sure they’re all very good partners, and I bet Lando would be an amazing boyfriend. Probably. But I know Oscar. I trust him more than I trust the others because I know for a fact that he’s a genuinely good guy. That first year that we met him, he asked me what your favorite color was to make sure his mom knit you a hat that you would like.”
“That was years ago, Logan…” you trail off.
He shrugs. “So? It’s not like he’s changed that much. When we were still at Prema, and you went through that vegetarian phase, I caught him once looking up restaurants that have vegetarian options so that you could eat with us when we went out to celebrate.”
You glance down, avoiding Logan’s eyes. Picking at a loose thread at the bottom of your shirt, you say, “That was still years ago.”
“What about all the flirting in the comments,” he asks.
You shrug. You’re not even sure yourself. The way Sophia and Lando had explained things to you, it had certainly seemed like flirting, but the lack of his presence on your posts as of late has made you reconsider your initial beliefs and now you’re not sure what to think.
Realistically, all of this could probably be solved if you just texted him and asked— womaned up, as Sophia would say, and confronted him about your feelings. But there’s still that underlying fear of rejection, and you would never be able to live down the mortification if you did something so bold and had your confidence thrown back in your face.
“So you’re just gonna play pretend with Lando and hope Oscar gets jealous and does something about it?” He sounds genuinely confused. “Isn’t that… mean?”
“That’s what I said!” You exclaim, burying your head in your hands with an exasperated groan. “But Lando and Sophia are so adamant that it’ll work, and they have more relationship experience than I do. I don’t wanna manipulate him at all, but I don’t know what else to do to get his attention again other than talking with him, and I think I might actually throw myself into the ocean if I have to do that.”
Logan’s face scrunches up, “‘Again?’”
You purse your lips and awkwardly shrug as if that’s a good enough answer, but his silent stare persists, so you heave a sigh and fall backward against your pillows, glaring miserably up at your ceiling. “We kissed. Once. In Bahrain.”
He stands from your bed suddenly, pulling your gaze back onto him. His hands are on his hips, his brows are still furrowed and his mouth is still turned downward ever so slightly, but he looks less upset and more determined than anything.
“I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Be ready in thirty minutes,” he says. “We’re going out.”
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logansargeant sometimes it’s just you and your sister against the world, and sometimes that means last-minute trips to the beach to remind yourself that it isn’t all that bad
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yourusername you didn’t really give me much choice tbh 🙄
↳ logansargeant yea ok well someone in this family has to have a sense of spontaneity 🙄
user wholesome sibling content is what’s keeping me going fr
user i’m so happy we’ll be getting more of y/n in the paddock in 2024!! 💙💙💙
landonorris is twin telepathy real?
↳ logansargeant totally
↳ landonorris you’re messing with me no it’s not
↳ yourusername it absolutely is that’s why me and logan are always on the same page
↳ landonorris fuck that’s so cool
user i’m ugly crying the fact that they’re twins makes them built-in best friends i can’t do this rn 😭😭
user the sargeant twins are keeping us fed this winter break
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yourusername sometimes self-care is sunsets and petty gossiping with your brother
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logansargeant emphasis on the petty
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user girl idk how you can stand how cold the water is rn
↳ user i mean they kinda grew up in europe so maybe they’re used to it
user i wish i had a brother to gossip with 😫😫
user i NEED to know who they talk shit about PLS
alex_albon hopefully the east coast is having better weather than the west coast 🥲
↳ yourusername sunny skies as far as the eye can see 😌
user I’M REALLY WATCHING THESE TWO LIVE MY DREAM RN
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oscarpiastri ☀️.
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━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl
━━ a/n: we're going places! i'm very excited for what's in store with the next part! beyond that, though, i am seriously so thankful for how nice everyone has been with this. the reception was so much nicer than i ever could've anticipated, and i'm very excited to keep writing more!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#social media au#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#alex albon#lando norris
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hi! i'm not sure if ur taking fic request atm, but if ever u r, can i ask for a fic where f!reader also works for the bau, she is hotch's daughter, and she is dating spencer reid? 🥹 thank uuuuu
hi there ! i’d write it with pleasure, tysm for your request. :) (reminder: english is not my first language so I might be wrong/get lost in naming stuff lmao. it’s also my first fic since quarantine.💀🙏)
“That’s kinda weird”; Three times getting noticed by Hotch + one where he gets confronted.
pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!f!Reader (playlist)
summary: see request
warnings/type: angst, fluff, mention of a sex life, mention children kidnapping, no mention of Y/n, can be read as gn reader, SFW, not proofread (my bad i’m season 2 and being fed with fanfictions), fear of changing and going forward, reader and Hotch are kinda distant
word count: 1.81k
taglist and asks open.
1. Facial communication
10:07am, Behavioral Analysis Unit, bullpen.
You were sat at your desk, not really far from Spencer, looking up at him from time to time. It’s not as if your relationship was that new but it was still blossoming. However you weren’t over those looks you could give the other, the tiny smile on the corner of your lips when you catch the other’s eyes, mostly when you can't help thinking about last night. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth, and that relaxed feeling when waking up in the morning after those activities. To be honest, it may never fade. Your co-workers would find it cute if they noticed or just laugh at it at first if they catch you at the beginning, but they would stop with time.
It’s been over two months you’re dating, and a year of knowing each other, when you joined the BAU. Somehow, even by being the unit chief's daughter you’ve never got the chance to meet him before, as you were always out or the nose in your studies. Surprising right ? But to your father’s dismay, he would have preferred that it wouldn’t happen. That you would have continued to do your own stuff, become a pianist, instead of deciding to follow the same dangerous path as him AND decide to get in a relationship with one of your co-workers. As if you couldn’t get more involved with them, with a dangerous life that could, will definitely change you. But you were young, stubborn and now in love.
As you looked up at Spencer just to get a brief look at something else than down at your papers, somebody scrap his throat making you look to the side where the sound came from. You locked eyes with your father as he was walking to his office, eyebrows slightly furrowed in your direction. You feel your cheeks heat up and look back down at your work, as if nothing happened. This may be nothing but it was enough to feel embarrassed about, facial communication being important between the two Hotchners. You haven't told him but he is not dumb, it was that protective father scold, the "don't even come next to my daughter" type. Spencer seemed to have noticed that small interaction as he became a bit clumsy with his papers, which made you grin.
2. Longing touches
5:18pm, Kansas City, Kansas.
Here it is, the final moment. The UnSub was finally caught, Albert Schumacher an ex-teacher who couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his beloved job. If he couldn't take care of children, why not making his own kindergarten ?
Because of the sweet month of November, it was already dark at that time, and cold, but not enough to be blinded by the night. The unsub in the car, Spencer was once again to your side, his hand on the small of your back as usual. The case was heavy, but it was finally over. You let out a breath as he was just resting his hand here, stroking his thumb a bit as an attempt to provide you a bit of comfort. Honestly, if he could hold you closer, he would. Even in front of everyone, gluing at your side.
An hour and half later, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. To warm your heart through Kansas' cold, Spencer decided to keep you company. Through the walk he resisted the urge to take your hand in his, wrap an arm around your waist, hold you, hug you, warming you with his body warmth to keep you from shaking and feeling yours as well. He hated when other people touched him but he never got enough of yours. He kept wanting more even more because of the situation with your father who still didn't know about the two of you.
3. Keeping compagny
9:10pm, FBI private jet, Kansas City, Kansas -> Quantico, Virginia.
It was late, the winter night and cold were almost overwhelming, the case was over, a case involving children disappearing. The flight from Kansas City to Quantico may have been a two hours flight, but everyone was tired from all the efforts given in the last few days, few hours of sleep in the agents' system and the possible small jet lag that might hit the next day, the cold hitting their bones.
When you sat in the jet, you sat as a reflex not next to your father but next to Spencer, seeking comfort to him just like most of your nights after work for the last few months. He didn't realize either that he took the seat where your father was about to sit on, as he just sat to your side, closer than if he was sitting next to anyone else. Your father walked, prepared to sit next to you but stopped when he saw Spencer almost glued to your side in a blink. Instead, he sat in the seat in front of him, keeping a visual on the both of you. It's been a while since he has been observing you, your bond. He knew something was happening, not just because he was your father but also because he knew there was something happening, something above co-working, above friendship.
You were doing your best not to show it even when going back together from a case but right now you just didn't really care hiding this. You were both too exhausted to continue on this, maybe it was the irrationality of tiredness talking but anyway. Everyone knew there was something between the two of you, he would have known a way or another. Fuck the way you planned again and again to tell him, you just want to lean into the other and sleep until the end of the flight.
Everyone took a small nap during the flight except Hotch who was keeping himself busy, thinking back about the details of your position, the way you leaned to the other in your sleep. He thought back about the glances you throw to the other, the touches and the more he thought about it, the more he was upset.
Two hours later, you woke up as long as the other as the plane had landed. You give Spencer a small shake to his shoulder to wake him up. At the same time, you saw your father getting up and giving you a quick look that told a lot. He seemed tense at you but you shake that thought off as Spencer woke up, looking at you. Oh, how you couldn't wait to go back to his apartment and just lie in the bed next to other and have rest.
You both get off the plane and see your father outside. Usually, he would wait for you to at least wish you a good night/evening or something of that kind, but this time no. He didn't go right away but when you got off the plane he was just starting to walk away.
"Good night..?" you said to catch his attention.
It visibly worked as he stopped walking. He looked at you with tired eyes but still with distance in his look.
"Good night..." he answered with a small hesitation. He seemed to want to add something so you just let him talk, even if it was a bit tensed. "Do you need a ride home ?" he added as he proposed you usually, but already knowing the answer this time. Not that he never did but this time he was just sure. He never liked the co-driving with Spencer. You had your driver license and you could afford for a car, why relying on your co-worker even if you lived not so far from the other ? He didn't need to make express his discontent to make himself understood this time. He wasn't waiting for an answer.
"No thanks.. Spencer is driving me back home tonight." you answered, it was a bit awkward but you tried to get past that.
+ Confrontation
He nodded and scoffed a bit. "Yeah, of course."
You felt a tinge of guilt at this, something was wrong. You may know why he reacts like this and you don't think to have the mind at this at the moment, and you don't think he has either. "What do you mean ?" you asked, oblivious.
He faced you, looking at you in the eyes. He was silent at first but finally answered. "You know what I mean." There was a hint of venom in his voice. He kept his voice low enough for you and Spencer to hear. Spencer who was just in the back, tired and uncomfortable. This was clearly not how he wanted to get things clear about your relationship and neither do you.
"Then tell me. Tell me what you mean, what's wrong." You replied, looking at him in the eyes. You knew it would hurt but the conversation had to be done, and if he was going that way then his suspicions would be confirmed that way.
"What's wrong is this," he said, referencing to Spencer and you, giving him a look. "Do you have any idea of how unconscious it is ? Dating your co-worker, really ? And without even preventing anyone, you could get more than suspended, did you even think about your lives ?" he added in his boss tone. Yes, he wasn't just your dad but also your chief, but to be honest, you weren't expecting your unit chief talking to you.
All you did was nod once, looking slightly down before raising your eyes to him again and as you were about to answer, throat tight, but he speaks again.
"I'm not finished. What if one of you gets in danger trying to avoid an something to the other ?" He added, his voice was hiding of emotion by his attitude. You catch a glance of Rossi in the back who was about to call for your dad to calm down a bit, to let his role of chief down to let the father speak. He knew that he just wasn't ready for you to grow up as your relationship looked serious and not just a story without tomorrow. He was still getting used to having you around at the BAU, his daughter, what's left of his family alongside Jack.
You said nothing, letting him cool down. The atmosphere wasn't as tensed but more awkward. "And- and he's too for you. Why didn't you choose someone your age ?" he added after a small blank. You knew it was just an excuse, your gap with Spencer wasn't even too big, around five years. You knew it was an excuse not to say "why didn't you choose someone who's not from the FBI ?", questioning your career choices.
A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't know how to end this so here it is. Might do this series though ? I would like that. I want to make a happy ending but I just can't align more words. I don't think anyone would be interested btw but let me know. Perhaps it made me think about the first chapters of that series "Spencer x Prentiss!Reader" if you read it but I can't explain why lmao. It was so weird how I wrote this: I started by 1 then continued with 3 and the bonus then ended with 2 so I'm sorry if it was short lol
#x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner
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