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queers-gambit · 4 months

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What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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egcdeath · 1 year

Text

spectator sport

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you and joel are the most competitive parents in your daughters’ soccer league. as it turns out, it’s not so easy being enemies when your daughters become best friends.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: canon divergent (no apocalypse yay!), rivals(?) to lovers, they don’t really like each other at the start but they also kinda do?, fluff, realizing feelings, domestic moments, yearning, allusions to a divorce

author’s note: tlou is an angsty masterpiece, but sometimes all i want is a little lighthearted fun. is this the most in character thing?? no! is it more fun to imagine malewife joel in a world without cordyceps? well… you tell me ;)

part two / series masterlist

“You got it, Chlo,” you cheered from behind a spray painted white line on a cleat-beaten grassy field. You balled your fists as you anxiously watched your daughter chase after the ball with a ferocity, herding it closer and closer towards the goal.

Your daughter had always had a passion for soccer, having watched professional matches with her father since the moment she could comprehend the game, and playing as soon as she could walk. Chloe had leaned even further into the sport following you and your ex-husband’s somewhat messy divorce, which left you in charge of bringing her to practices on Tuesdays, and games on Thursdays. It wasn’t like you minded much, you were always happy to support your daughter in whatever brought her joy.

“Pass it! Pass it!” a loud, masculine voice interjected as the man next to you shouted at your daughter.

Joel was not exactly your favorite parent on the team. While most of the parents enjoyed his presence, with his oddly wise advice for the girls and vocal support of the team (it also helped that he was quite easy on the eyes), something about the man had always thrown you off. Maybe it was his stubborn demeanor, or the way that he found a way to argue with you during every single game, without fail.

Now, as far as soccer parents went, you weren’t the worst. You had your moments of snapping at a shitty referee after a particularly rough week at work, or possibly being a little too enthusiastic when something bad happened to the opposing team, but somehow Joel always managed to do or say something that provoked you just enough to go back and forth with him.

Chloe glanced over in his direction, briefly losing her footing in perfect time for a member of the opposing team to snatch the ball right out from under her.

There was a collective groan from some of the more intense parents on your side, and you openly glared at them for indicating their disappointment with your daughter’s performance. But this wasn’t their fault. It was Joel’s.

“Great call out there,” you spat, shooting daggers in Joel’s direction as you took a few steps closer to where he was standing.

“Oh please,” you could practically hear the roll of his eyes in his words as he prepared to defend himself from your vitriol. “You think I wanted that to happen? I’m rooting for the whole team, not just my child.”

“I am not just rooting for my kid,” you delivered the statement a little too genuinely considering that the truth was probably closer to the opposite. “But you’re acting like you wouldn’t have felt the same way if it was your daughter.”

“I wouldn’t, ‘cause I understand that we’re probably gonna win,” Joel responded casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well, we would’ve had a much better shot at that if you weren’t so dead set on yelling shitty directions at the girls. Maybe leave that to their coach?”

“Hey, don’t curse! You’re forgetting there are kids around,” one of the fathers interjected, sounding far more offended than he needed to be.

“Shut up, Mark,” you and Joel said at almost the same time, voices overlapping. Your little spats were yours and yours only, and you’d thought it was common knowledge by now not to interfere when any of the parents were getting into it—but especially with you two.

As usual, your little back and forth seemed to go on and on. It had reached the point where you weren’t even really sure it had anything to do with the game as much as it had to do with the text you’d received from your ex just a few hours before the game, and whatever bullshit Joel had going on in his own life.

As much as you’d like to say you had self awareness, week after week the other parents shared knowing looks and snickered at your spectacle, yet being the laughing stock of the game didn’t deter either of you.

This week’s argument was no different.

To be quite honest, you hadn’t ever really paid attention to those who treated your spats as their mid-game entertainment. Right now, all you could think about was stupid Joel, shouting something stupid at your daughter, making her lose her focus, and miss out on a moment.

Well, maybe you two had too much tunnel vision, as an uproar of cheers from your side pulled both of your attention from each other, and to the celebrating team on the field. Particularly, Chloe and Sarah high-fiving as they jogged away from the goal.

Awkwardly the two of you clapped, cheering the names of your respective children. You didn’t miss the slight flush of red on Joel’s cheeks after missing the sight of his daughter working with yours to score, but you would be a liar if you didn’t admit that you felt the slightest hint of embarrassment too.

The game wrapped up soon after, with a quick discussion with the coach before the children were dismissed back to their families. As you waited for Chloe, you didn’t miss the newfound camaraderie between herself and Sarah, with the girls seemingly laughing at something as they made their way over to you.

Despite whatever negative feelings you may have had towards Joel, you were always happy to see your daughter happy, and if that meant you may have to tolerate the father of her friend, maybe, just maybe, you would stop treating her games as an arena for your shouting matches.

——

As an involved parent, you were no stranger to school fundraisers. For the most part, you would enter a raffle and sit through a catered dinner as the school choir butchered school-appropriate songs, or purchase a handful of chocolate bars from whatever kid was knocking at your door. However, for this fundraiser, Chloe insisted that you volunteer.

It was a simple bake sale occurring during school hours, and you had the day off. How bad could it really be?

Apparently, really bad.

Just minutes after you arrived and began to set out the cash box and assorted baked goods, an unwelcome presence joined you, immediately bringing an uncomfortable tension into the atmosphere. If you knew when you signed up for this event that you would be working with Joel Miller, you could guarantee you wouldn’t have been so eager to register.

“Oh, hey,” you tensely acknowledged after a moment, glancing up at the man who was joining you, then back down at the bagged brownies in front of you.

“Hey,” he responded just a second too quickly, then went silent as he seemed to feel out the awkward tension in the room. After a few seconds of heavy silence that felt closer to an hour, he finally added, “Any ways can I help out?”

Joel gestured to the table where you’d been organizing some of the baked goods. “Is there a method to your madness? Or just…” he trailed off awkwardly.

It was obvious that he hadn’t expected to be working with you, likely not enthused to be spending a good portion of the day in such close proximity with someone he clearly did not like being around. The situation was almost comical—spending hours in a school with someone that you weren’t sure you could spend five minutes with without breaking into explicit argument. Obviously it would be inappropriate to argue with him in this setting, so you reasoned that for the duration of your shift, you could at least attempt to be cordial.

“Uh, they just want us to keep twenty items out at a time,” you shrugged. You could be cordial. You could just give Joel instructions, then only interact with him when need be. “And to keep gluten free items in this basket. Other than that, everything is set up. The first lunch period’s in about a half hour, so we won’t have much to do until then.”

“Got it,” Joel nodded, pulling out a rather squeaky chair before taking a seat next to you.

The following few minutes could only be described as painfully awkward. You could cut the tension with a knife as you attempted to scroll nonchalantly on your phone, and Joel uncomfortably rubbed his hands on his jeans. This was going to be a long afternoon.

“So, what made you decide to help out today?” he asked out of the blue, drawing your attention away from your phone and over to his face.

Okay, you could handle small talk without getting into an argument. Besides, it’s not like you had anything to argue about. And to be frank, were your arguments really ever anything of substance? Sure, sometimes you both had done something slightly annoying or antagonistic, but your arguments never really felt that serious.

“Chloe knew I had the day off and pretty enthusiastically suggested I come help,” you shrugged as almost a means to shake some of your nerves out. “How about you?”

“Pretty similar on my end. Sarah thought it would be a great idea for me to come in today and help out.” Joel looked at you, then back down at his watch, as if he didn’t want to maintain eye contact for too long.

What a strange coincidence. Both of your daughters suggest you come to their school and work together on something.

You bit back whatever emotion it was involuntarily forming on your lips as it occurred to you that there was not a chance in Hell that this was accidental. Sarah and Chloe seemed to be quite close—you rarely heard a story that didn’t involve Sarah these days—and it was not unlike your daughter to plot schemes to try to fix relationships, a trait you and your ex-husband know a little too well. Clever, clever girls.

“What are the odds this was on purpose?” you asked, finally not restraining your entertainment by this whole situation. How ridiculous. And ironic. How ridiculously ironic.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say quite high,” Joel pressed his lips together and shook his head to himself.

And while you’d rather have your child just communicate to you that you’re embarrassing her at games, or that she would prefer you to be at the very least amicable with her new best friend’s father, at the end of the day you couldn’t really blame her for pulling off an elaborate plot. Besides, your feud with Joel was silly and unnecessary, and part of you had always wondered if you hadn’t spent so much time arguing with him, if you two would actually get along.

“If they did plan this, which they most certainly did, we have some smart kids,” you chuckled softly. “And maybe for the sake of them, we can attempt to be… friendly?”

Joel nodded slowly, “I can do friendly.”

A truce. Although the tension between you could still be cut with a knife, it felt nice to agree at the very least not to start a war at the little table.

”Can we really blame them for setting us up?” you pondered aloud, “I mean, who would want their best friend’s parents to be enemies?”

“We’re enemies?” Joel asked with a lift of his brow.

“Well,” you paused. You weren’t really enemies. Despite all of the heated arguments, more times than not, Joel provided you a pretty safe outlet to vent your feelings without many repercussions. “Maybe… rivals?”

Joel shrugged, “Maybe. I know for certain I don’t see you as an enemy. Although, I apologize if I ever made you feel that way.”

Was Joel… apologizing? First, working together with the man, and now an apology. Maybe you should’ve gone and visited your psychic after all, with the unpredictable way your week was turning out.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted, sounding quite genuine. You still weren’t completely sure that this was some weird joke, or that you’d woken up in a parallel dimension. “For always stirring the pot during games. It’s really quite-“

“Joel, it’s really not an issue,” earnestly and without a thought you interrupted the apologetic man, not wanting him to feel the guilt of being solely responsible for your little tussles. “I don’t take anything you say during games seriously. But I also want to apologize. It’s probably not the best to find little things to argue about every week.”

“I just wanted to be clear that I don’t hate you or anything,” he emphasized.

“Well I don’t want you to think I hate you either. If we’re being honest, it’s been pretty nice to be able to inconsequentially blow off steam every now and then. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.”

The corners of his lips turned up and into the slightest smile at your admission, and suddenly it had felt as if a weight had lifted off of your shoulders, and a bit more of the tension had dissolved in the room.

“No hard feelings?” he offered.

“None. Maybe the opposite,” you teased.

“Well, you know what they say about love and hate…”

“Now that may be a step too far.”

As it turned out, you and Joel made a pretty efficient bake sale team. Joel helped the kids pick out their baked goods, and you cashed the kids out. Sure, it wasn’t the most complex operation, but it felt nice to be in such a comfortable rhythm, especially considering the majority of your professional work you did alone.

By the end of your shift, you were far less displeased with your situation. In fact, one might even say that you enjoyed spending your afternoon at the sale with your daughter’s best friend’s father. Maybe Chloe and Sarah’s plot to force you together wasn’t so terrible after all.

Maybe Joel wasn’t so terrible after all.

——-

Every year, Autumn means one thing in your town: the annual fall festival.

It was honestly impressive the way that the entire community would go all out to put on such a large event in order to adequately honor the season, although part of you was convinced that the whole weekend-long event was an excuse for kids and adults alike to indulge in candy apples and Oreo turkeys and show off unnaturally large pumpkins.

This year was no different, and as tradition, you and Chloe hauled yourselves down to the festival. It just happened to be your luck that as you were exiting the car, a pickup truck pulling into a parking space caught Chloe’s attention.

“It’s Sarah!” your daughter informed you, practically skipping over to the vehicle. You followed after your daughter (who just so happened to be much faster than you) as she pulled her friend into a hug the very moment she popped out of the car.

Joel hopped out as well, glancing at your children who already seemed to be walking off towards the fair, then back to you.

“How are you?” he asked, fidgeting with his keys as he put them into his pocket. It was clear that despite deciding not to feud anymore, things were still a little fresh and weird between you two.

“Good, good,” you trailed off, nodding slowly as you slipped your hands into your own pockets and began to follow the two girls. Somehow, Joel ended up walking next to you as you trailed behind your daughters, and a light tension filled the air.

Despite feeling slightly more comfortable with him after your shift together at the bake sale, it was clear that there was still some strange awkward energy between you two. After all, you had only made amends around a week ago, and prior to that, the majority of your interactions had included some sort of verbal altercation.

Walking into the fair, you maintained a less-than-comfortable silence as your daughters chatted and led the way to the field, filled with booths and stations as far as your eye could see.

After a bit of aimless walking around, Chloe suggested a stop at a cornhole station. Watching your respective children play from the sidelines, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at the pure, unadulterated joy coming from your daughter as her and Sarah bantered with each other and tossed little bean bags. After ending with a tie, the pair began to walk away from where they were standing before pausing in front of you and Joel.

“You guys should play!” Sarah suggested enthusiastically, looking up at her father with an animated look in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Joel trailed off and glanced at you as if he wanted to check how you were feeling on the matter.

Sure, you didn’t have the upper body strength of someone who did construction for a living, but you were confident in your ability to kick some ass at corn hole.

“C’mon, mom. And you too, Joel. It’s fun! It’ll be fun!” Chloe, ever the instigator, egged you on.

“Alright, alright, since you insist,” you played up your reluctance, but happily accepted the red beanbags your daughter offered you. “It’s on, Miller,” you said as you approached the boards.

“Just you wait,” he shot back, matching the overconfident, cocky persona you’d seemed to put on. “Before I embarrass you, I’ll be polite and let you go first.”

“How kind,” you playfully rolled your eyes, but focused long enough to toss the pack not too hard and not too light, and it slid on the board before landing in the hole. “What was that about embarrassing myself?”

Heckling Joel was unsurprisingly quite easy, considering the majority of your interactions prior to the past week had consisted of taking blows at each other. What you didn’t expect was how naturally the banter between you flowed when both of you were able to acknowledge that what you were saying really wasn’t serious at all.

“I think that was called luck. You still have plenty of time to embarrass yourself,” Joel didn’t even miss a beat as he tossed his bean bag with ease, landing right into the hole.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by his aim, and that your confidence hadn’t slightly faltered. For once in your life, it was possible that a man wasn’t over exaggerating his capabilities.

“Not bad, Joel,” you brushed his accomplishment off as you went to toss your next bag. This time, you weren’t so lucky, and your turn ended with your beanbag on the side of the board.

Chloe and Sarah dramatically reacted from the side, cheering or whooping whenever they saw fit. In a weird way, it was like your roles had been reversed. You and Joel were no longer the overenthusiastic spectators.

“What did I say? Luck,” Joel tutted. “Look, girls. I’ll show you how a real expert does it.”

Turning his back to you and the board, Joel attempted to toss his bag through the board, yet as he turned back around, he found it in the grass between your two boards.

You, Sarah, and Chloe erupted into laughter at the irony of it all, so much so that Joel couldn’t even help but to join in.

“Great job, ‘real expert’. Can you teach me your ways?”

You were somewhat stunned with the speed at which the ice had broken between you and Joel. Just a few minutes ago walking into the fair, you were nervous that the evening would be tense and awkward, yet here you were, teasing and laughing right along with each other.

Once your laughter subsided, you both tossed your last bags, with you making it in and Joel missing. After a gratuitous moment of celebration, Joel walked over to you and extended his hand for a handshake. You took up his offer, and firmly shook his hand.

“Good job out there. You were a worthy opponent.”

“Thank you, Joel. I could say the same, but I won’t. Y’know, since you lost.”

This received a giggle from your kids as Joel abruptly dropped your hand, feigning offense. Maybe it had just been a long time since you’d received any physical affection at all, but the loss of his brief grip stirred something strange deep inside of you.

Ew. No.

You could barely tolerate this man a week ago. Sure, he wasn’t terrible to look at, and your daughter had seemed to take a liking to him, but you’d be remiss if you hadn’t thought about all of those charged arguments you’d had during soccer games. You had only just recently considered him to be anything more than a nuisance.

“Where to next?” Joel asked, pulling you out of your head as the girls began to chatter and move in the direction of whatever booth had caught their eyes.

That was a train of thought for another time. Maybe you’d let yourself think about it tonight night, as you attempt to fall asleep in a bed that’s far too big for one person and far too cold without someone else there. But not here, where the situation felt like a live wire, and a little too real for your liking.

——

For the most part, Chloe’s soccer hobby took up more time than it gave you. The time it took going to practices, games, and tournaments quickly added up, on top of working an absurd amount to make sure that you could pay the mortgage and club fees on time and keep your child happy. The one exception to this general rule were team dinner nights—a night where you didn’t have to worry about spending an hour or two in the kitchen, giving you far more free time to do whatever you wanted.

This time around, Joel was hosting the dinner at his place. Clearly, Chloe was excited to be spending the evening at her closest friend’s home, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see what his place looked like.

And maybe, just maybe, you were the slightest bit excited to see Joel again.

“Can we just go over early?” she requested as you checked the nearly done cookies in the oven. “Can I go over early to hang out with Sarah? Please?”

You practically could hear the puppy dog eyes in her voice, and when you looked over to her, she was indeed looking at you with a somewhat convincing sense of desperation. It was never easy for you to say no to your daughter, which she unfortunately knew. This time was no different.

Sighing softly, you conceded, “have Sarah ask her dad if you can come by.”

Chloe cheered as she dashed off to the other room, seemingly reaching out to her friend who very quickly responded, as your daughter was back in just a few minutes with confirmation that she could come by any time.

Quickly pulling the cookies out from the oven and throwing them into a container, you packed Chloe into the car, and hauled her over to her friend’s house.

Chloe grabbed your Tupperware and skipped to the door, politely knocking and waiting patiently as you stayed seated in your car, just to make sure your daughter got in okay. As if she was awaiting Chloe’s arrival (and she most definitely was), Sarah pulled open the door the moment Chloe had put her knuckles to the door and welcomed her friend in.

A somewhat muffled voice from inside called something out, leaving Sarah to relay it back to you: “Before you go, my dad wanted to know if you wanted to stop in for a drink?” she called out, just loud enough for you to hear from your open window.

Any other day, you would’ve said no. But for some reason, coming in and checking in just felt right today—so that was exactly what you did. It wasn’t like you and Joel weren’t in friendship territory with each other.

While the girls ran off upstairs, you made your way to the kitchen to find a very stressed-looking Joel. He was in complete disarray as he checked the oven twice, then the fridge for something, then stirred something in a pot.

“Hey, you alright?” you asked right off the bat, setting down the container of cookies your daughter had given back to you onto his countertop.

“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t think about how I was gonna cook all of this in time,” he moved away from the stovetop and towards a cupboard to grab you a glass. “Now what would you like to drink? I’ve got some coke, some juice, something a little stronger…?”

“Just water is fine,” you hummed, awkwardly standing by the counter. “Joel, do you want some help? You know, four hands are better than two. And I’m pretty competent when it comes to reading and following a recipe.”

“Please,” he barely let you finish speaking before he spoke, and desperation was practically dripping off his tone as he passed you a glass of water.

You weren’t sure you expected him to say yes, but you were somewhat surprised when he agreed anyway. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to accept help, let alone ask for it. Joel must’ve been even more stressed than you initially picked up on.

“Of course. What would you like me to do?”

“Uh, if you could just cut up some of the fruit that would be great,” the man ran his hands through his hair as he approached the fridge once more.

You nodded and walked over to the cutting board where it was clear that Joel had begun to attempt cutting some fruit up, but had been interrupted by one of the many pots on the stovetop or dishes in the oven.

Although you didn’t necessarily envision your evening being spent in a frantic Joel Miller’s kitchen, you weren’t particularly mad at it. It didn’t take long for you two to fall into that easy collaborative rhythm that you seemed to always have when it came to working together. Maybe you weren’t too bad of a team after all.

By the time the doorbell rang with the first family, you and Joel had just finished up, and your daughters had just about finished setting up the table in the dining room and on the patio. Taking you by surprise, Joel reached out for a high-five, which gave you a hearty laugh as the two of you tapped hands.

“I appreciate your help,” he remarked. “You saved my ass tonight.”

By all means, dinner was a success. Parents and children raved about how good everything was, and conversing with Joel and the other parents was surprisingly easy—despite you not noticing the knowing looks that a few of the more gossipy moms frequently shot each other.

Luckily, a few families assisted in cleaning things up after dinner before heading out, cutting the time you’d need to spend helping with cleaning pretty significantly. As the night wound down, it came as no surprise when Chloe asked if she and Sarah could hang out for just a bit longer. It’s not like an extra hour would kill you, especially not when Joel was pulling out a bottle of white wine and suggesting sitting out on the patio in the pleasant Austin autumn weather.

As you got settled into your seat, Joel poured you out a glass before pouring himself some. You sighed contentedly, happy with a rather pleasant evening, but tired from the stress of the day.

“Thank you for helping me out. There’s no way in hell I could’ve done this without you,” he confessed, peering deeply into your eyes. He looked at you for just a moment too long, the attention bringing a warmth to your face.

“I’m always happy to help anyone,” you smiled shyly under the pressure of his intense look before taking a sip of your drink. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be happy to help Amy. But I’m always happy to help you.”

“Well, I appreciate you,” Joel paused as he drank. “And I wouldn’t help Amy either.”

The two of you shared a little laugh before a rather comfortable silence filled the air. The two of you looked up at the sky, gazing at the stars that seemed to be shining a little more bright than usual.

“I’d like to repay you somehow,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he continued to keep his eyes fixed on the sky.

“Mm, that’s not necessary,” you hummed. “Dinner was plenty. It was great, and Chloe and I will definitely be enjoying our leftovers.”

“It’s necessary to me,” Joel paused as if he was contemplating even saying the next words. “Would you let me take you out sometime?”

It was clear that he was looking right at you, nervously anticipating your answer.

You cracked a slight smile as you turned your head towards him, “That would be nice,” you nodded. “I think that would be really nice.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #soccer parents au

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velvetures · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I saw your post about taking some requests so I thought that I'll give it a shot. If it's possible, could you maybe do a Captain Price one? I haven't seen a story about him yet on your page, so I hope that this request can finally add one to your masterlist.

So here it goes: A Price x virgin!reader one. I feel like he's the type of guy to be really gentle and slow when he realizes that the reader is inexperienced, mostly due to his calm and caring nature. But once they start to get comfy, he'll get kind of rough in some way? And aftercare, I just know that this man would be an expert at it. Would help in washing them up in a tub or even cooking them a meal after. I could see that he's also a sucker for cuddles and just being close to them in general.

So yeah, I really hope that you'll consider this request and possibly write something out of it. If not, that's totally okay!!

Side note: I just wanted to say that I love your stories and that it brings me comfort, too:))

I Knew, Sweetheart

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so fucking looonngg!! I just couldn't get it right and I ended up going for "better is more" in the hopes that it'll hide the god-awful writing. :( Anyways, please don't burn me at the stake. It's my first Price fic, and I've still not got his voice or character dialed in. Summary: Reader is Price's gf, and while they've been together for a little while... sex hasn't come up. Nor the fact that the reader is a virgin!. Reader goes about bringing it up a little unconventionally, and things progress. T/W: virgin!reader, fem-reader, NS/FW 18+ ONLY, p-in-v sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that IRL), established relationship, a little bit of an age-difference?, cursing?, first-time anxiety?, aftercare, probably missed something else. proofreading is for people w/ friends of which I have none.

John Price set himself apart from most of the men that he often worked alongside when it came to matters of his personal life and the ways in which he operated. A lot of people would often make jokes, saying it was nothing more than his being an “old man” who couldn’t adjust to the newer ways of life. But fuck, he wasn’t that old when it came right down to it, and yes he liked going along with the traditional ways specifically when it came to relationships, at least when he had the chance to. He’d been a lot younger at one point, not seeing how detrimental his actions could’ve been affecting the women he associated with or spent a few hours in bed with just to leave without another word sent their way.

Captain Price knew he’d made many mistakes when the heart was involved. He threw away a lot of advice he’d been given growing up -some good and some bad- all because he thought he knew better or had enough intelligence to figure it out as he went. Much of that changed when he started realizing that he wasn’t fulfilled in the slightest. For a few years, he was bitter over the emptiness. Not understanding where it came from or how the fuck he could get rid of it. Unraveling layer after layer like a frayed pair of jeans, John kept questioning how he’d come so far just to be that alone. Praying his mistakes hadn’t destroyed his chances of finding a little sliver of humanity outside of his work to motivate him. Keep him sane in the most bitter of hours, and soft when everything and everyone else around him kept adding brick after brick into never-ending, emotionless walls.

Then you showed up out of nowhere, sitting on a barstool in one of the pubs he frequented when he had some time away from his work. Close to home and nowhere near busy enough to call a bar or club; John immediately thought you looked like you’d taken a wrong turn and wound up in an old man’s hangout. It took him a few hours of watching out of the corner of his eye to finally weigh the options of being shot down, or possibly making something out of a whole lot of nothing. His offering to buy you a drink led to taking a few puffs off of his cigar outside. From there he learned just about everything about you within the first few weeks of seeing you or calling here and there.

You liked to talk, a lot. Something John was thankful for since he developed a bad habit of just staring at your pretty face instead of listening like he knew too. Fuck it made him feel ten years younger. And that was something else that made your relationship feel unusual to the Captain. More than six years in age difference didn’t sound all that significant on paper. Yet it was more interesting than either of you thought it would be initially. Aside from just simple pop culture references and enjoyment of music and other low-stakes things, your lives were on different paces. John was stable… at least as stable as his work allowed for. While you’d finally got the job you’d been dreaming of, and hadn’t been working for a full year when you met him. Everything all together challenged John, and you as well, with figuring out what you wanted from each other. How you planned -or wanted to- go about making that happen. And if being serious was something that you shared an interest in.

A few months of going on dates and John walking you home was traded for him sharing half the dresser drawers in his bedroom with you. He was gone nearly all of the time, which put a damper on things but he liked having peace of mind that you were safe and in his home. Besides, it was a short drive from his house to your work and you could stop paying half your paychecks on rent and start saving it up for anything you really wanted. At least… anything John hadn’t already bought or given you. Well… there was one thing John hadn’t given you. And it began gnawing at your mind harder and harder every time he went away for a mission and came home without the slightest inclination to do more than give you a kiss.

John Price still hadn’t asked or hinted at wanting to have sex with you.

At first, you thought it was refreshing. Seeing a man old enough and patient to understand that sex wasn’t just given but earned. Yet every time you thought there would be a moment after a date or a ‘welcome home reunion’ where he’d finally bring up the topic, your expectations fell short. Plenty of excuses floated around your brain, including the more rational ones: he was just very respectful. While others were much more self-conscious and saddening: he was getting it somewhere else, or he could see that you weren’t experienced. The age-old struggle of being a virgin past the age of eighteen.

Too old for half the population, and far too young and inexperienced for the others. Sheltered didn’t describe you. You had toys and knew how to give head as well as having been on the receiving end. But going “all the way” eluded you by some miracle or curse. Looking at John in comparison to yourself was just as attractive as it was intimidating. You knew better than to think he didn’t know his way around the bedroom. He was just too smooth. Far beyond any man, you attempted a relationship previously. You wanted to think he respected you, but at the same time, waiting for much longer for him to make a move just felt like another eternity you lacked the patience and confidence to endure. So after a long night of overthinking and wondering how you could even go about bringing it up, you made a decision that when he got back home from his latest mission, you’d be the one to bring it up.

God your hands were sweating. He was supposed to have been home two hours ago and there was still no sign of his truck in the driveway or a single message from him on the phone you had gripped between your damp palms. Everything had been just fine all day, until the sun began to set over the hillside in the backyard, leaving you less than six hours away from John coming through the door. Worried didn’t even begin to explain how your stomach was tied in knots with a low burning fire in your throat. John had been nothing short of perfect -save for being gone so often- and you knew there wasn’t a single reason for you to be so overwhelmed at the mere thought of being an adult and asking him to have sex with you. Of course… You made up your mind to omit that you’d never done it before and just hoped the Captain would be too preoccupied with something else to notice.

Noticing the details quickly got turned around on you when the front door creaked open on its hinges and you hadn’t the slightest clue that John was standing halfway through the threshold with bags slung over his back and a small look of curiosity on his face. His pretty little thing, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped around her bent knees and a deep stare somewhere far away from the both of them. He had to admit it wasn’t the first time he had caught you sitting with your eyes “comfortable” as you liked to call it; however, it was the first time he’d seen you wearing something quite that lacy for no damn good reason before.

Some kind of black, strappy, and frilly little number. It hardly left anything to the imagination, and John had to force himself not to go into deep thought about how you’d even got into the thing without instructions. It made your figure that much more eye-catching, and after staring at nothing but rain and mud for two weeks you were a sight for sore eyes. Even a Captain had to admit his biggest weaknesses to overcome himself and improve, but he wasn’t sure in that second if he could ever overcome -much less forget- how divine you looked. Honestly, he didn’t even know you owned it to begin with. But by the way, you kept spinning your phone in your hand, he had the vague gut feeling that you had something on your mind. A little more than dinner or fussing over the possible injuries he could’ve sustained while gone.

“Waiting on someone?” He asked lowly, trying his best not to startle you too much. Right away your eyes locked on his and widened. Almost like a little rabbit cornered by a fox and no hole to scurry into. He watched a flash of sudden panic overtake you and how quickly you reached for one of the throw blankets at the end of the couch to hide behind. Price chewed his tongue, forcing himself not to smirk at you at the moment. Wanting so badly to tease you a little bit for looking so sexy in that bodysuit, but acting nothing short of the little shy church girl getting kissed on the cheek for the first time.

“J-John,” Your voice sputters on his name a bit, forcing a smile to his face. He couldn’t help it after being away for this long without the chance to hear you even over the phone for a few minutes. “You’re home a little late.”

He nods, guilty. “Delayed flight. Weather kept us from movin’ out on time.”

Careful, he dropped his bags off at the front door without the slightest concern about how long they’d sit there. More important things were swirling around in his head. Trying to decipher if you were planning something and just backed out, or if you just needed a little bit of coaxing to not be so shy. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something he thought would ever come in handy when it came to interacting with you, yet John found himself rounding around the chairs on the other side of the living room from you, and planning each step he made to ensure he didn’t spook you. That lingerie wasn’t for nothing, and he desperately needed to know what you planned on doing with it.

He licked his lips, taking a steadying breath. “What’s under the blanket, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly, “N-nothing… I thought - I hoped it’d look nice,” Fumbling pathetically for an excuse, you finally spit one out all under the very soft and lightly amused eyes of one John Price. “It doesn’t fit.” The second it left your lips, you internally cursed yourself.

John’s eyebrows raised, instantly grabbing onto that loose thread and pulling on it. “I’m sure you’re wrong about that…” He came closer, standing just in front of you on the couch with his hands on his hips. “Come on, why don’t you let me have a look? I’ll give you a second opinion.” His words made your heart stutter, and you weakly shook your head in response.

“I should just return it.” You mutter, scooting over to the side of him and attempting to sneak off with your protective blanket.

You’re not even close to getting away from John when he chuckles, one arm curling around your shoulders and the other getting a firm grip on the material you’re hiding under. Naturally, you don’t exactly fight to get away. But a furious blush breaks out over your cheeks and neck, feeling the preverbal trap tightened around your throat. He’s turning around and sitting down on the couch with a nonnegotiable silent order for you to take a seat straddling his lap. That alone is enough to drive you up a wall with anxious feelings. Not that you’d never sat on his lap before -actually it was quite common- but under these circumstances, there was a lot more than just a little bit of heat passing between the both of you. Very slowly, John found the edge of the blanket and slipped a hand under, searching out for your skin and eventually landing on a little bit of the lacy material stretching in a high cut over your hip. You can actually see his eyes darken, tracing along the hemline and mentally picturing what was under his fingers. Touch alone was making you squirm, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep quiet so as not to embarrass yourself even more than you already felt.

“Oh, sweetheart… fits like a fuckin’ glove.” He whispers lowly, hand palming your asscheek and toying with the thin little string that disappeared into the cleft.

“It’d be a shame for you to get all dressed up… go through all this trouble… then not let me see your hard work.” His voice lulled slow and steady, swaying your fears just enough for you to feel your head nod up and down a couple of times before letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on Price’s lap. The front of the bodysuit had been well-hidden up until now, with you sitting so lady-like in his lap. But the thin straps just crossing around your tits and holding them up without a single stitch of material covering them totally, John thought he’d been shot right through the chest. Between the innocent look in your eyes, and that damned outfit making you appear about as sinful as hell, he couldn’t keep from letting out a low growl and squeezing your ass just hard enough to make you gasp.

“This is what you were trying to hide?” His breathlessness couldn’t be masked, nor could the frequent shift in his eyes between your practically bare chest and eyes. John chuckled, hands drifting towards your hips and up to rest on each side of your ribs. Pushing your tits together just a little bit, almost bewitched by the sight of you like that on his lap. “Oh, you’re such a pretty girl…” He muttered, almost to himself.

Shifting in his lap, you tried to keep your growing arousal and nervousness under control. Each touch set you on fire, and with John moving this slow you couldn’t be sure you’d live long enough to see another day. It was too good feeling a man actually appreciated a woman in front of him. Not just finding the small bits and pieces he preferred and overlooking the rest. You knew being nervous was natural, but the more John rubbed and soothed, it was getting harder and harder not to whine or ask him for just a little bit more to satiate you. Right away, John’s eyes darted up to you, and something you couldn’t quite describe flashed through his eyes just long enough for him to lip his lips and sit up a little straighter, pulling you to sit straddling just one of his thighs.

“I think I know what you want, sweetheart.” He smiled so damn affectionately that it made your heart jump. “But just so I know… why don’t you go ahead and tell me, that way I don’t miss anything. I don’t like to disappoint.” Toying with the zipper of his sweater, you suck in a nervous breath to steady your nerves.

“I want you to, have sex with me.” You hardly whisper the second part, still drawing your own attention towards anything minute that could serve as a focal point with your body shaking so badly.

“Hmm…” His thoughtful hum sends shivers up your spine, and the feeling of his hands massaging your hips makes it hard to breathe. “So I was right,” A smile crosses his face. “Well then, how about you go ahead and take care of this.” He growls a little, his fingers slowly tracing over the barely-there strip of fabric covering your core, already soaking wet with your arousal. Your little moan slips out before you can even try to cover your mouth, and John’s fingers slip away like he was purposefully trying to be mean and deny you a taste of relief.

“John, please…” You whimper, hands resting on his shoulders hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

He just shifts down to rest against the couch a little more and bounces his knee a few times, sending jolts of extreme sensation right up your clit into your lower stomach. You didn’t get it at first… what he wanted you to do. But now you did, and John almost grinned when he saw the realization, followed by the shy look you gave him. Encouragement was needed, and he was more than happy to deliver. Slowly rocking your hips back and forth along his pants, purposefully having settled you on the side that his thigh-holster was strapped to, adding two extra ridges that instantly began working to overstimulate you. It was too good, and not enough. Pushing your inhibitions just a little further out of focus and forcing you to really focus on how nothing more than his thigh was getting you to a release quicker than any toy or trick you’d tried on yourself. Impeccable alone, it was his low voice right in your ear that made everything outside of John Price holding you on his lap disappear.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart…”

“Making me feel bad for not helping sooner… If I would’ve known how needy you were.”

“That’s it, love. Keep going, want you to let go. Right on my lap, then I’ll take care of you.”

His lips suffocated your moans and whimpers, swallowing each little pleasure and claiming it as his own. John hadn’t taken his time like this in years, but damn it was special seeing you -his pretty little thing- so needy and whining his name. So sensitive to the texture of his cargos that he was actually wondering if you could withstand something more… purposeful. God, he hoped you could. He wanted to tase you so bad after feeling just how wet you were. Fuck, even the dark khaki color of his pants was getting darker with each little jerk and grind of your hips. Thighs twitching and clenching around him like you couldn’t get the right angle, and were slowly getting more pathetically and innocently frustrated. He needed you hungry though… wanted to ensure that this was done properly. And if it meant withholding from you just enough to make sure you were desperate, he’d bite back every urge he had to give you everything right away.

John knew right away that you were a virgin. Either by just his ability to read people or by the way that you didn’t particularly use sex appeal to draw him in right when you first met. You weren’t innocent of how you looked though, and always dressed and acted much to the benefit of being seen as the valuable woman Price always believed you to be. Yet it didn’t escape his curiosity as to how you’d been able to slip through the grasps of so many disrespectful and predatory men who would’ve done anything to have taken their chance at you. Fuck, he was thankful beyond belief. He hated thinking that you could’ve needed to experience pain or discomfort at any point… but he never asked you simply out of respect and the knowledge that at some point the topic would come up. Only, it didn’t come to fruition quite like he expected. In fact, he never imagined that you’d had your first orgasm with him riding his thigh while sitting on the couch in his house. He wouldn’t change it for a goddamn thing, though.

In the moment, he’d wanted nothing more than to hear you. After hearing so many little whines and pleas for his help, he knew you’d sound so beautiful. But his own intentions fell to desire when he crashed his lips to yours, taking those cries of pleasure for himself. There would be plenty more to come for him to bask in the sound of. The first one though? He needed it. It was his to taste and keep forever. Alongside the taste of your pleasure, he relished in your shaking legs and the harsh bite of your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to feel through two shirts. He felt your desperation just as deeply as his own, and while his cock straining against his zipper was not totally lost to his attention, John could easily stave off his own needs to make sure you were satiated just as thoroughly as deserved for coming on his pants like the good little things you always were.

“Good girl… You did so good for me, sweetheart.” His rough voice rumbled against your ear as his kissed you softly.

Petting your hair and rubbing his other hand down your quivering thigh. As much as he wanted to keep you right here and not disturb your come-down, he wanted you in bed. Needed to see you laid out like he pictured when jerking his cock after weeks of pent-up stress needed a release. Fuck he wanted to take you slow in his bed and wake up in the morning with you wrapped around him and the smell of sex on the sheets. Before you could really even catch your breath, John had you spread out on the bed with him staring down at you almost astonished. You were just as affected, seeing the heavy outline of his dick parallel to his zipper and ending just at his belt. His eyes caught your lingering, and he chuckled, biting his tongue with his back teeth before squeezing himself and shrugging like it wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do. The little gasp you let out only gave him that much more confidence to keep teasing you as much as he’d been.

Slowly, painfully, stripping off one piece of clothing at a time and letting it drop to the floor. Eyes locked on yours like he was getting off to how you reacted to each little inch of skin that was bared to you. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he enjoyed all of the attention on him. When in reality, he was just mesmerized by how in awe you were of him, looking like a war-torn soldier with his scars and hardened body. You were holding your breath for the moment he pushed his underwear down off his hips, standing downright predatory with his fist tight around the base of his thick and glistening cock. If you ever had a moment of hesitation about doing this with John, they dissolved in that single moment. Because your next movement was to reach your hands out, wiggling your fingers for him to come closer.

“What would you like?” He asks, coming to stand at the foot of the bed just out of your reach.

“You.” You answer a little plainly, making him chuckle.

“Not quite specific enough, sweetheart.” His eyes drop to your body hugged in that black outfit and he bites at his cheek. “But as much as I love you in that, I’d like to see you take it off.” A very easy request. Had it not been for your inability to reach the little snap at the back that kept you tied into all of the lace and straps. So, you very politely raised up and sat on your knees with your back to John and gave him the sweetest look you could manage.

“Give me hand, Captain?”

He nearly ripped the fucking thing off.

The moment he had your seduction tactic of clothing balled up in his fist, he felt the first little surge of his common sense holding him back a little bit. Base instinct screamed for him to sink into you as quickly as possible. But feeling your hands rub over his chest and your shy little kisses to his neck reminded him of circumstance. Pinned against your belly, his cock twitched in response to your teeth grazing accidentally over his collarbone. You were about to whisper an apology when John wrapped a hand around your throat to tilt your head up and suck hard just under your jaw. He liked when you did that… The thought gave you a little bolt of satisfaction. One that progressed into your hands sliding down his stomach until your fingers curled around his thick shaft, earning a warning sound of a moan deep in his chest.

“So fuckin’ soft…” He murmured against your shoulder, kissing it hotly and slowly rocking his hips against your hands. Teasing himself. Edging closer to try and raise a little bit of resistance so he wouldn’t spill his load on the bed long before he was damn well ready. Your silky little hands spreading his arousal over his length only lasted for a few minutes before John was pulling you away with heaving breaths and a flush breaking out over his cheeks.

“Too much?” You ask a little giggly when he lays you back and crawls up to kneel between your spread legs.

His reaction is one of raised eyebrows and a devilish kind of smile that makes you feel like you just made a little too accurate of a joke to be laughing. John gives you a little warning ‘tsk tsk’, shaking his head like he could try and hide the lust and affection swirling in his dark eyes at the sight of you giggling, and all spread out for him like a five-course meal the Queen of England couldn’t afford to buy. A wiser man might’ve believed himself worthy of you, enough that his dirty hands could touch you and try to give you pleasure in the way they assumed to know best. Yet John leaned over you with the knowledge that he was one of the most unworthy men on the planet, and you had so much grace and love inside of you that it didn’t matter. One little touch and you could cleanse him of every blood stain he’d not been able to clean or sinful act of revenge he couldn’t resist committing. Above all else, you’d decided in all your innocence of the world that you trusted him with your body as much as you’d already handed over your heart and mind.

John kissed you. Hard. With everything he had to offer in return for the invaluable

With that, he’s, hauling you up against him. He wants you laying right on top of him so he can sleep soundly with you right against him. He’s very quick to give you more praise and ask again if you’re feeling okay mentally and physically. You mention feeling just a little insecure, despite all of his very purposeful care throughout the whole process, but Price won’t have it.

Right away he’s kissing you softly, hands rubbing over your back and butt affectionately. Letting you know just how special he feels that you trusted him, as well as just how lucky he was to find someone like you in the first place. Holding the back of your head and gently cradling you against his lips; Tongue licking into your mouth and groaning softly when you mirror his movements, even going far enough to nip at his tongue. Using that same little hint of him enjoying your teeth on him. Just like before, you’re met with another warning sound of a growl, and John is pulling back and moving his head between your legs with a careful watch on your reaction.

“Can’t wait any longer, sweetheart.” He kissed your inner thigh sweetly. “Please let me taste your sweet little pussy.”

His words shock your body, and your head falls back with the little bit of erotic pleads overwhelming you. God, it was making you drip onto the sheets feeling him so close yet waiting for your answer. Pathetically, you couldn’t get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth for a few long minutes. Just enough time for him to lovingly suck bruises onto your inner thighs and mean you scream out his name, squirming under his hands to try and get some real relief.

John takes pity on you, stopping long enough to let you catch your breath. “Come on pretty girl. Just say the word… I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Yes, yes, yes… please. I need more!” Your airy pleas fall like angel’s trumpets on his ears, as his mouth descends hungrily onto your cunt.

Licking through your slick folds and growling your own name back against your core with the sweet and alkaline flavor. Your hips buck up and you cry out, feeling his tongue lash over your clit for the first time and right away he’s got one forearm over your hips to hold them steady with the other hand held tight with his fingers intertwined with yours. His mustache tickles against your skin and you can feel him resting his head against your thigh, almost like he’s getting comfortable for an extended stay with his tongue in your cunt.

Another orgasm is ripped from you without warning less than ten minutes into John’s unyielding assault on your sensitive clit. And it’s this time that John ensures your thighs can’t wrap around his head for the sole purpose of hearing your loud and raw scream of his name. Blissed out, and shaking once again, John smiles against your pussy; Lapping up any remaining release he’d missed mere seconds before and feeling the dull pressure of your heels digging into his back.

“God, you’re so good for me sweetheart,” His praise blows cool air over your folds and you jerk a little, whining when you feel his lips return back down to you. Slowly, teasingly, he began all over again just as he did the first time.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize he doesn’t plan on stopping. But when you do, crying for him to stop when he begins using his thumb to tease your clit while his tongue fucks slowly in and out of your clenching hole. John almost laughs, darkly and amused with your little cries and moans. Feeding off of your pleasure just to give it right back to you in the direct motivation of making you come on his tongue and fingers this time.

“F-fuck - John! Sh-shit,” Your stuttered voice falls into an unabashed groan when he teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly slides it deep into your fluttering pussy, squeezing around it tightly. Hungry for more, and weeping with each small curl of the digit hitting on your upper wall.

Your eyes roll back, and you attempt to push John’s head back to try and ease the stimulation, just to feel his hand holding you back and in place. It’s maddening, feeling so good that it’s almost bringing tears to your eyes, having already come twice -more than you typically gave yourself- and no sign of him letting you escape.

God, John was pushing you to the boundary of everything you knew about your own body, as well as giving you the first, raw, experience of just how good sex could be. Lifting your head up just to try and get a small glance at him, you catch the sight of his eyes, fiery and intense looking right back up at you with your own come soaking his mustache and the entire lower half of his handsome face. You clench around his digit again, being pushed that much closer to the edge just at the visual alone.

Your third release came as quickly as the first two, this time resulting in the delicious stretch of John’s three fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, literally slurping up your release; Almost dragging it out of you like he couldn’t stand the thought of not swallowing every drop. He whispered your name so gently as he came to rest on his forearms overtop of you, kissing your forehead with his wet lips and feeling his hair stick against your sweaty forehead.

“Sweetheart…” his tone had softened to the smallest whisper you’d ever heard from him. “Are you sure you want this? We can stop here if you’d like.”

Opening your eyes to see his handsome face and the slight of his hair in a total mess, you knew getting away with not mentioning your lack of experience was impossible. Your John… wasn’t nearly as unobservant as you’d wanted him to be. Without more than a tired little smile, you nodded. Raising your head weakly just far enough to kiss him gently, tasting yourself against your lips and feeling the slight quiver of his breath.

“Please, I want this. I want you John.”

Initially, no matter how much he’d taken care to prep you there was still a deep stretch as his thick cock began slowly entering you. Sweetly, he worked you through each little discomfort, giving you kiss after kiss and running his hands through your hair. Distracting from the little sting that had never been present with your toys, and praising you until his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuucckkk yes,” Price couldn’t hold back the loud groan as he looked down to see your pretty little cunt taking every last inch of his dick and squeezing so hard he could barely think straight.

“Takin’ my cock so good… Such a pretty girl, my good little thing…” His murmurs and curses slowly devolved the further you progressed.

Your body slowly adjusted to the intrusion and the gentle thrusts John made the moment you began squirming and pleading with him to move through your little hiccups. The unusual feeling of John moving inside of you slowly began to coax moans and praise from your mouth every time the crown of his cock rubbed deep against a swollen, textured, spot inside of you that built up pressure so quickly that you needed to wrap your legs around his hips to keep them from shaking uncontrollably. Each stroke got harder and harder, with John eventually pounding his cock deep inside of you, moaning and using one arm to wrap around your waist to hold your lower body still so he could bring both of you closer.

“J-John…” Your voice jolted with each snap of his hips as you tried to warn him.

Feeling that familiar yet almost destructive power of another climax rushing through your lower body. Convinced you didn’t have enough left in you to come again, you felt tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with immense pleasure skyrocketing you towards a final orgasm you kept denying until John’s fingers reached between you and expertly began rubbing tight circles around your clit, violently tossing you into whited-out vision, and muted hearing.

Above you, John found his own release and shared it at the same time as yours. Fisting the bedsheets to keep from grabbing ahold of you too tightly and bruising you; his cock getting squeezed so tightly from your climax that it was almost painful to stay seated inside of you. With so little arm strength left, he fell nearly full-weight on top of you and only propped himself up by his elbows to keep from suffocating you.

Utterly wrecked, and feeling more than you’d ever experienced more than you’d felt in your life, it took minutes before you could open your eyes and actually have enough of the mental capacity to realize that John was gently stroking your head, kissing your forehead and your nose, and holding you tightly to him as the strong muscle jerks and twitches in your body began to die out.

“You here with me?” Low and comforting, you smile dazedly with your eyes heavy and trying to focus on him.

You merely nod your head yes and give what you assumed was a ‘mhmmm’ but might’ve sounded more like a small animal being choked or drowned. Naturally, John’s lips spread into a very happy and amused smile, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing a kiss to your lips softly.

“Come on, sweetheart…” John whispered, pulling your head up to his chest and gently easing himself out of you with a low sigh.

You’re once again lifted up and whisked away, this time, into the bathroom just off to the side of the bedroom where John carefully sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and starts running hot water with the lights dimmed low. Certain he’s got everything for your bath within your reach and the water is high enough for you to really sink down into in and relax, he gives you a soft kiss and promises to return after just a couple minutes.

He returns before you even work up the desire to wash your hair, and immediately takes over the task of getting you cleaned up himself. In between the lulls of soaps, and conditioners, John will pose quiet questions, asking how you’re feeling and wanting to know if there was anything that hurt you physically or was bothering you mentally. His care was intense and very personal, giving you much more confidence and comfort after having such a draining experience. Of course, you felt fantastic throughout, but when he asked if you were tired, there was a feeling that he already knew you were and expected you to tell him how he could best support you.

Other than letting your head rest against his chest. Leaving not one inch of your body neglected, from your face to your feet. Throughout the process you watch through sleepy eyes, seeing a very peaceful sort of look on his face while soaping you up and helping you rinse off and step out of the slippery bathtub into a warm towel you could only assume he’d thrown in the dryer just for your comfort.

Holding the towel around yourself, you peck him on the lips and smile, too tired to really say anything of real value. However, you’re certain John understands by the way his arms wrap you up and hold you tight to his bare chest while running his fingers through your wet hair, helping get out some of the little tangles your conditioner couldn’t quite take care of alone.

“I love you, John. More than anything.”

He drops a kiss on top of your head, rocking your weights back and forth in the dimmed light of the bathroom. Admiring your little form in the darkened silhouette of his much larger one.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“You’re my best friend.”

He chuckles, finding that so very endearing.

“You’re mine too.”

yeah... the "you're my best friend" part, me and my husband do that <3 so.... that's a thing.

#john price #captain john price #captain price #mwii #cod mwii #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #velvetures #velvetures writes #velvetures answers #cod #anon <3

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chaiifluuf · 2 months

Text

•°. *࿐ What if all i need is you? — d. osamu

synopsis. after going underground for the time being to leave the port mafia, yours and dazai’s friendship starts to feel like something else

content. gn!reader, spoilers for the dark era/season 2 ep 4, lowercase, comfort, fluff, hcs + one-shot, clingy dazai, lowkey bad writing??

notes. i don’t think i’ve ever been this nervous about posting something ( ; ω ; ), anyways first post and first time attempting to actually write smth so this most likely has grammatical mistakes…

dazai who, after witnessing his best friend’s death, arrived at your doorstep at midnight and without a second thought asked you to run away with him.

dazai who tells you everything that happened and why he is willing to make a change, hoping you will come along with him.

dazai who is deep down desperate for your comfort and touch, your soothing words that somehow always manage to find a way to his heart.

dazai who at one point couldn’t hold it together anymore and spends many nights silently crying into your shoulder, for the first time allowing himself to be vulnerable around you.

dazai who believes he will never be quite enough to deserve your endless amount of care and affection.

dazai who was able to have a full night of near peaceful sleep in a while, all thanks to your warmth and mere presence next to him.

dazai who realises how much you truly matter to him, how he can’t ignore the warm feeling in his chest whenever he sees you, how his body craves for you.

dazai who slowly starts to think that maybe with you he can do this and become the better person who odasaku wished him to be.

the full moon was shining brightly tonight, slightly peeking through the curtains of your shared apartment. the weather is calm, only a soft breeze passing by at times. it’s almost been half a year now since you and dazai went underground and it’s been quiet to say the least. with some help from ango, you were able to find a small temporary apartment in the suburbs, away from the main city.

the first few weeks after agreeing to go with him were rather rough. dazai was uncharacteristically quiet most of the time, his eyes seeming even duller and more distant than usually. it was clear to you how much odasaku’s death had really affected him and you can’t blame him. the best you could do was to tell him it was going to be okay and be there for him in any way needed, a reminder that you’re here to stay.

Another thing you weren’t used to was how clingy he would become.

despite the two of you not being in a relationship, it was almost unreal how touchy you got with each other. Sleeping and basking in each other’s warmth, the lingering touches when the other had to go elsewhere, the small caresses were like a second language for him at this point. and it never made you uncomfortable.

as of now you are finishing watching a film, one that has been sitting in your watchlist for a while now. the ending of it left you a little disappointed but overall it was more than enough to cure your boredom. with a soft sigh, you turn the tv off and place the remote control away.

your gaze drifts down to your chest, a view of familiar brown and soft hair snuggled up to you. he has been practically in the same position for the whole duration you watched the film, a pair of arms securely wrapped around your waist and his head resting against your chest. it's a serene sight.

judging by his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, he seems to be asleep. which is rather rare since the only time he gets actual sleep is late at night if even that. you briefly check your phone and it's barely ten pm. your hand finds itself in his hair, gently brushing through it as you untangle a few knots. it really was beyond your understanding of how soft it is. if you could spend your whole day just caressing his hair you would.

you can’t help but take notice of his features when you brush some of his bangs to the side. he looked absolutely ethereal and it made your heart beat faster without you realising it. you wish he could see himself the way you do. but then again he has said the same thing about you so that’s that. you will never get tired of his peaceful state though, looking as if there is not a single worry on his mind.

more often than you would like to admit, you wonder what you two are. up until running away, you were just close friends with him, friends who got along well. sure there was the typical dazai flirting and petnames here and there but you didn’t think they meant anything further than that. however, overtime you can’t deny the fact you might just have fallen for him.

but now you don’t know. do friends hold each other so intimately? do friends make most of your meals because they know you won’t eat anything else? does a friend look at you so longingly, even if it’s for a split second? and once you ponder about that, you start doubting if he feels the same. what if he doesn’t see you like that? what if he’ll get bored of you eventually? what if—

a small movement from dazai was enough to snap you out of your thoughts. he slightly shifted his position, letting out a faint exhale afterwards.

“‘samu?” you murmur as you stare at him for a little, expecting him to wake up but to your surprise he’s still in his slumber.

there is a certain glint of softness in your eyes before you close them and lightly bury your face into his hair, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo. despite your calm breaths, your mind was still running.

“…i love you.” your voice was barely audible. for whatever reason, you felt the need to say it, the very same three words that have plagued your thoughts for a while now. you know he didn’t hear it but at least that’s what made it easier to say. maybe one day you’ll finally let go of all your doubts and fears and confess to him, telling him how much he really means to you.

“you do?”

your heart drops. for a second you wondered if you really heard that or not. there was no way.

“what?” you respond quietly, almost in disbelief. dazai turns his head to get a better look at you as well as move a little closer. his eyes were half open but you can still see the glint of playfulness in them. a faint smirk was on his face. this man… is this supposed to mean that this whole time he was only pretending to be asleep?!

“you love me?” he repeated his question, a bit of teasing evident in his tone. god you wanted to smack that smug smile off his face. perhaps you should have never opened your mouth in the first place.

“ah, i just… i mean…” your words trailed off as your heart started to speed up. suddenly you didn’t know what to say but if he really heard your words earlier then the answer must be obvious. you’re sure you look flustered right now and you can’t even hide it from him since he’s right in front of you.

however, what he did next made your world freeze in time.

without a warning dazai slowly closed the distance and softly touched your lips with his. having you so distracted that you didn’t even notice when he moved his hand to the back your head.

the kiss lasted for about three seconds but it sure felt like an eternity. his lips were much softer than you thought, despite you not having enough time to fully react to the kiss. for a moment you can’t help but question if this was real or another dream you were about to wake up from.

his face still stayed close, his lips slightly parted as his warm breath hit your skin. “i think i love you too y’know..” he mumbled while gently caressing the corner of your jaw. his voice seemed more sincere when he said that.

and just like that all of you anxieties disappeared. you don’t what came over you but what you do know is that you captured his lips with yours once again. only this time you felt the need to go deeper, like you couldn’t get enough of him.

dazai welcomed your initiative warmly, letting out a quiet hum as you kissed him once again. you had no idea kissing someone could feel this good. you swear you can feel him smiling against your lips at some point and it makes your heart skip a beat. your hands wander through his hair, holding him close as your body relaxes.

you guessed all those times he bragged about being a good kisser turned out to be true after all.

when the two of you part to take a moment to breathe, he takes the chance to tease you again. “i’m still waiting for an answer to my question, bella.” he says softly.

yeah, this was definitely real.

thank you so much if you made it this far !<3 literally need to stop rereading this because it gets worse every time i do help

#𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ maeve writes . 🖋️#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fluff #dazai x y/n #dazai x you

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manheeiim · 6 days

Text

love hurts - rafe cameron

summary: in which you start to doubt rafe's love for you || warnings: drugs, mentions of overdosing, toxic relationship, reader slaps rafe, manipulation || genre: established relationship, angst || word count: approximately 1370

Lately, things have been rougher than usual between Rafe and you. I mean, sure, things were always kind of rough between you guys, but lately it'd been a bit more.. noticeable, if that makes sense.

He wasn't home often. When he was home he was often in a bad mood. You guys barely went on dates anymore. He wasn't texting you as much throughout the day the past few days either.

You were pretty much just left alone at home, lonely, while he went out to work. You knew that he was only out so much because he was working so much, but you were just tired of it lately. And truthfully, the working so much isn't what really bothered you, it was his lack of outward attention to you when he was around lately due to his bad moods.

Rafe had gotten home from being out working today, in yet another obviously bad mood so it wasn't a shock to you that shortly after he'd gotten home, he was sniffing up some coke to make himself "feel better".

You never really liked him doing coke. Any drugs really, but coke especially, considering how addictive it was and how obviously addicted he was. You were constantly worried that one day you'd come home and you'd find him dead from an overdose. It scared you.

You talked about how you didn't like it several times but Rafe only brushed you off. He did a lot of things for you but this was one thing he wasn't giving up, at least not any time soon.

You didn't really like being around him when he did coke, leaving the room when you saw him taking out the baggy with the white powder in it. He was fine with it and didn't bother you about it.

So, when you walked into the kitchen, you weren't exactly planning on him doing coke on the counter. You held your breath as you slowly walked over. When you walked over and lightly held onto his arm, he didn't even flinch as he continued slowly sniffing up the powder. It was when you spoke that he got annoyed.

"Rafe..." You quietly said and he already knew why you were saying his name.

"Y/n, don't." He said as he put his arm that you were holding onto out in front of you, lightly pushing you away as he went back to snorting the drugs.

You pouted, looking at him, watching as he slowly killed himself. You looked at him for a few moments before you lightly slapped his arm in annoyance.

Rafe looked up at you annoyed, "What's the problem?" He asked.

"You don't care about me." You whined and he just furrowed his eyebrows. Before he could even say anything back, you left the room, going upstairs to your guys' bedroom.

He stood in the kitchen, annoyed at what you said and also annoyed that you'd just walked off before he could even say something. He took some deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down before he went upstairs after you, wanting to ask what the hell that was all about, even though deep down, he knew.

You're sat on the bed, your knees curled up to your face as you wrap your arms around your legs and softly cry. You really were starting to feel uncared for and unloved by him. You're startled by the sound of the bedroom door opening and you look up to see Rafe coming inside. You looked away from him as you continued to cry.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Rafe asked, trying to hold back but you could easily tell that he was really frustrated right now. You don't say anything as you look away. "Y/n, look at me." He sternly said and you looked over at him, sniffling as you wiped your tears.

"You don't care about me anymore." I said with a red face and pouty lips.

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed again as he closed his eyes for a moment, "What the fuck are you talking about?" He asked.

"You're barely home anymore, all you do is work. You barely even text me or call me throughout the day when you're out. When you're around, you pay no attention to me. I swear you hate me or something." You complained. Rafe let out an angry sigh at your words as he rubbed in between his eyebrows. "I mean, do you even love me anymore?" You then went on to say.

That was his breaking point. "Hey!" He loudly shouted. "Hey!" He shouted again, not as loud. "Watch your mouth." Rafe told you. "Of course, I love you, don't say something stupid like that ever again." He harshly said.

"No, you don't." You quietly said back.

"You don't know what the fuck you're saying." Rafe said. "Y/n, I work so much because I love you. I mean, we need money to survive, don't we? You want all those stupid clothes? Then, I have to work. I know that it's been more than usual lately but sometimes there's just times like that, there's nothing I can do about that." He told you. You let out a small sigh, you guessed he was right.

"I get that, Rafe, but when you are home, it just seems like you don't even care that I'm around." You said.

"Oh, so I'm the bad guy here because I'm tired after working all day long to provide for us?" Rafe asked.

"No, I never said that." You said, exasperatedly.

"I'm just tired out, you understand that, don't you?" Rafe then asked.

"I know, I just.." I trailed off, silent for a few moments. "You never listen to me when all I'm doing is caring about you." I said.

"I'm listening right now, Y/n." Rafe told you, letting out a sigh.

"Well, there's something you never listen about." You mentioned.

"Yeah? What's that? What are you going to complain about now?" Rafe then asked.

"I don't want you to do coke anymore!" You said.

"Here we go..." Rafe said, clenching his jaw as he sniffed.

"I know you're not going to listen to me but I'm scared all the time. Scared that I'll find you dead sometime!" I said, crying.

Rafe just looked at you. He wasn't going to give it up that easily and seeing you like this did make him feel bad, because, well he loved you. He always felt bad when you talked about this, but he was too self-involved to not make a change or even try to make a change when it came to drugs, not yet at least.

"I just.. I want you to know that." You quietly said, breaking the silence, as you cried, wiping your tears.

Rafe let out a sigh as he paced around the room a few times. You watched as he brought the palms of his hands to his eyes, holding them there, something he always did when he was frustrated and/or about to cry.

You hesitantly stood up, you don't know why you did, but you did. You then got up and went over to him. He slowed down, stopped, and looked down at you, removing his hands from his face.

You didn't say anything as you wrapped your arms around his muscular body, resting you face against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close to him as possible.

"I love you, Y/n. I don't want to hear you saying that I don't again. I do, I always will." Rafe softly told you.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"I'll.." there was a few moments of silence, "I'll try and be better when I'm home with you. I shouldn't be working as much as I have soon. I just have to get one big project done and that's it, then it'll be like before." Rafe said.

It was rare for Rafe to apologize and say things like this. He only ever really apologized to you.

"I love you, Rafe." Was all you could find the words to say in response.

"I know you do, Y/n." He softly said. "I love you too." He then told you.

-- link to my masterlist

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freemansgirl · 8 months

Text

video games

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: smut

words: 1.4k

summary: you ride amber as she plays dead by daylight after she had a rough game to make her feel better <3

warnings: cowgirl position, g!p amber (she has a dick, dont read if you dont like it) p in v, praise kink.

a/n: this smut based on a new nsfw hc i added to my dating amber hcs! got too carried away w the daydreams in my head and wanting to put it in fiction😵‍💫 pt 2 will be on the way soon 😘

“shit, (your name).” amber moaned out, as your hips grinded against hers. her dark brown eyes were looking so glossy, struggling to keep focus on the game in front of her. the way you were riding her made her feel like she was seeing stars, you were doing all so good for your beloved girlfriend, amber. she loved seeing your hips clasp around her hard dick, each leap was getting stronger than the last one. amber found her eyes shifting from the game back to you, the distraction of you riding her was getting to her now.

honestly, she could use the distraction, she was loving it so much. this all started when you started to palm her dick and touch her through her pants to feel on her clothed dick, it went from you giving her a sweet blowjob to now you were just riding her. before this had even happened, amber was having her rough days of when she played dead by daylight, which was pretty rare since she was so skilled at the game. however, last game, was an awful match for her, the survivors were way too good and they were getting generators done, no matter how hard amber worked to stop them when playing as ghostface. seeing her rank go down due to the lack of rank progress, it pissed her off so bad.

it made her want to get off the game so bad and just call it quits for the day. to make matters worse, the survivors were sending her hate messages and she sent them threatening messages back, threatening to kill them or just sending their ip addresses, just the usual. typical amber stuff when she gets mad. you hated seeing her upset, so like the good girlfriend you came up with some amazing ways to just make her feel better. you wanted to give her a “good luck” charm for her next game, so she can win to make up for her last game. the riding did a good job at relaxing her nerves and keeping her so calm from the anger she had earlier.

your arms were wrapped around her pale neck, as you threw your head back in ecstasy. you were moving your hips up and down in all of the right rhythms, just for amber to let out even more low groans. your walls were throbbing as you were just pushed your clit more and more inside of her dick. the more you pushed yourself onto her, the more you could see her dick disappearing. your wetness being on top of her dick was just adding more to the lubrication, your pussy was sliding in and out so easily with her. you start to kiss all over her cheek to her neck to add more affection to your girlfriend for her good efforts on the game.

“damn, baby, you’re so….. tempting. you make me wanna quit this game and just take you on my bed, right here and now….” amber expressed, her voice dripping with lust and horniness. even though she liked the challenge of seeing if she could stay focused on the game as her girlfriend fucks her, she wanted you so bad. the way your pussy just feels so good and your cute moans just drives her insane. as much as she wanted to improve her rank progress from last game, she wouldn’t hesitate to risk it all just to fuck you. this was just so attractive to her, why didn’t she even make the suggestion of you ride her when she has her bad days on dead by daylight sooner?

“nuh-uh, ambs, eyes on the prize. do good on this game first, then you can fuck me, okay?” you requested in your sweet, charming voice as you left a soft kiss on her pale cheek. as if you were some type of siren that sung her a hypnotizing song, she immediately listened to you. this would make the challenge even better. the palms of her hand on the controller were starting to grip harder than usual, fighting the urge to not grab you and throw you against the bed. amber’s self control was something that she struggled handling, she always had the higher sex drive between the two of you in the relationship.

she caught herself looking off of the tv screen and back at your breasts presented in front of her. she bit her lip just looking at them, they were just such a blessing to look at. amber definitely wanted to give those some special attention too, once she finished the game. you looked at your girlfriend with such a playful smirk on your face, trying to hold back a laugh. “focus, amber.” you grabbed her chin with your left hand to turn her gaze off your breasts back to the screen.

“fuck…” amber groaned, her black eyebrows furrowed, while she slightly moved her thigh to add friction since she couldn’t do anything because she was playing the game. she couldn’t wait to continue round two in the bed once she was finished with this game. she had hooked 3 survivors, all of them dead, while she searched for the last remaining one that looked for the hatch to escape the match. “you like that, baby?” you whispered, lightly squeezing her shoulder with both of your hands to ground yourself as you continued riding on her.

“yeah, you’re doing amazing, all for me, baby.” she breathlessly groaned, enjoying all of your movement on top of her dick. she felt herself close her eyes for a split second just out of pleasure. “just wait ‘til i kill this fucker and i’ll win the game. i’m going to fuck you on the bed as a celebratory win.” she added to her words, her eyes were still glazed over while looking at the screen trying to look dwight, the last dead by daylight survivor in the match. the idea of her getting to fuck you as a way to celebrate winning the match after the god awful match she had earlier, motivated her to search long and hard for him. she could feel herself getting close to release, her facial expression was getting screwed up.

“better hurry up and find him, babe.” you seductively spoke, ending your statement with a petty laugh. you started to hop more and more on her dick, your ass just bouncing on her hips with so much pressure. to add more sensation and pleasure, you changed your tempo in riding on her. at the new change in speed, amber could feel her dick just wrecked with how fast you were going on her. she could feel her hands getting sweaty around her controller from all the arousement the riding caused and from the pressure to win the game so she can fuck you.

the more your pussy was just taking her dick, she was honestly close to cumming. amber knew that all too familiar feeling too well, she could feel her dick getting ready to release. just as soon as she was about to cum, she finally found the survivor. she killed dwight using ghostface’s mori in the game. the sight of dwight being pulled up by ghostface with his hair from behind while he took a photo of him with a camera. it was now visible on the screen. “gonna fuck you just like this, baby…” she grunted, when she felt another one of your hard thrust come onto her dick. you didn’t even need to turn around to see what scene she was talking about, you knew your ghostface fanatic girlfriend too well.

with the idea of her fucking you like the image on screen stuck in her head, amber immediately climaxed right inside of your pussy. she felt her whole body get relaxed as she shoots her cum right inside of your pussy, your entrance was creamed with her dick. you stopped moving, while your body was rising up and down out of exhaustion from riding her so much. so many sounds of inhaling and exhaling of your breath escape from your lips.

you were about to get off but you noticed that amber took her left hand off of her ps4 controller to grab you instantly. she looked up at you with the most seductive smirk ever, her dark brown eyes were filled with lust and mischievous intentions. “let me turn the game off first, baby. there’s no need to rush.” she reassured you, while putting her left hand back on the controller to turn off the game system. amber now puts the controller down on her nightstand, next to the tv. she starts to lift you off her dick and grabs you by your hips, pushing you gently to the bed with her hands. next thing you know, she’s on top of you and things lead to another, leaving you two to a wonderful, sexual evening.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #scream x reader #scream x you #scream smut #q’d 🖤

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sacredjake · 8 months

Text

Heaven & Hell

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! basically p*rn, there is no plot. unprotected penetrative sex, cussing, impact play/spanking, edging, orgasm denial, sir kink, daddy kink, nicknames, hair pulling (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), rough sex, cockwarming, squirting, dom!jake, eyeliner jake, sweaty jake, some fluff at the end. if i missed any pls let me know!

a/n: i intended to write this many moons ago and finally got around to it. this is inspired by end DIG jake and his smudged eyeliner. huge thank you to @gold-mines-melting for proof reading, coming up with the title, sending pic ideas and telling me to put in more sweaty jake and better descriptions of his beautiful tummy that we all love so much. love you so much, poppy, thank you<33333 also i wanna say that this is the first time @malany-gvf has not read one of my fics before it got posted so she will be going in blind hehe <3

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The show seemed to drag on for eternity, and you were grateful when the boys reappeared back on the stage for their encore. It's not that you weren’t enjoying the show. You were actually enjoying it a little too much. More specifically you were enjoying the way your hot rockstar of a boyfriend looked on the stage, his chest and neck glistening with sweat, his fingers moving furiously against the strings of his guitar, the way his hips were rocking into the instrument and his back arched, and the eyeliner that had smudged under his eyes.

Oh the eyeliner.

It was a shock to you just as much as it was to the fans that night when the curtain dropped. It was faint, just a little bit of black on his waterline, but my god was it driving you absolutely insane. And as the show went on, and the more Jake sweat, the more the eyeliner smudged making it almost unbearable. The throbbing between your legs wouldn't cease and only got worse, the thin material of your underwear sticking uncomfortably to your core with the arousal that pooled there.

When they started to play Highway Tune you decided it was time to make your way down to the floor so you could meet them as they walked back to their dressing rooms. You were able to catch the last half of the song after their jam session break, and you waited patiently for them to come off the stage. Just by the way Jake had been playing tonight you knew he would be looking for some relief, and that thought alone excited you.

They had finally finished their set and were coming off the stage, Jake was first, nearly sprinting down the steps. Instead of handing his guitar to his stagehand Jake kept walking, one hand on the neck of the guitar to keep it from swinging about. His eyes were glued to your frame the moment he saw you standing there, the eyeliner extenuating his piercing stare. When he caught up to you, his right arm grabbed your left bicep, pulling you with him down the hall.

You didn’t say a word, knowing all too well what was going on. His guitar was covering the erection that had gotten increasingly worse throughout the night which is why he didn’t hand it off. His fingers dug into the meat of your arm, threatening to leave bruises, and it only turned you on more. The thought of him needing release so badly, and what he was about to do to you in the arena dressing room.

Jake released your arm once at the door, his hand flying out to twist the knob. He guided you inside the room with a hand on your lower back, and quickly shut the door behind himself. You wandered over to the vanity in the dressing room, finding the eyeliner he used still laying on the counter.

“The eyeliner was a nice touch, baby. Made all the fans go crazy.” You picked the pencil up and rolled it between your fingers. You watched through the vanity as Jake carefully removed his beloved guitar from his body and placed it on the spare stand by the couch. With the guitar out of the way, you could see just how badly he was straining against his pants.

He was quiet as he came up behind you, his left hand gripping your hip, the right brushing against your neck lightly to move your hair, exposing your neck. You watched his reflection come closer to you, his mouth right by the shell of your ear. His lips skimmed across your skin leaving fiery heat in their wake trailing from your ear down to the junction of your shoulder and neck where he began to place wet, hot kisses against your skin.

“And what about you, sweetness? You seemed to be enjoying the show more than usual tonight. I bet those lacey panties of yours are just dripping.” The sensation of his breath fanning over your skin was making your head fuzzy, and your limbs weak. You barely registered the sound of the eyeliner pencil dropping onto the counter from your hand.

You reached behind your head, tangling your fingers into his hair as your head rested against his shoulder, your back arching to push your ass further into his erection. With both his hands on your hips, Jake gave you what you asked for, rutting his hips into the swell of your ass. A whimper flew from your lips unable to contain just how needy you were for him.

“Jake please, don’t tease me. I need it, need you, bad.” Your voice was breathy and cracked when it came out, sounding like nothing more than a sigh. His hands traveled to the front of your denim shorts, popping the button and pulling the zipper down slowly. Jake slid the material down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.

“Oh don’t worry,” He nipped at your neck before pulling away, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

Jake pulled your hands away from him and placed them on top of the vanity, closer to the mirror. With the new placement of your hands he had you bent over the desk of the vanity, giving him the perfect view of your ass and your face. Not completely satisfied with your position, Jake swiftly nudged your feet wider apart with his own, spreading your legs for him.

“She’s all wet and ready for me, isn’t she?” He drug his middle finger over your clothed slit slowly. The minor action alone made your heat clench and your clit throb. You needed more, and Jake obliged. His finger peeled your underwear away from your sopping cunt, dropping them to lay with your shorts.

Once removed, his middle and ring fingers swept between your folds, stopping at your clit to rub tight, fast circles. His other hand was busy with the button and fly of his pants, doing his best to free his cock from its confines. You watched his dick slap against his tan and toned stomach that was still glistening with sweat as he pulled his boxers down. He grasped himself with his free hand and ran his tip through your folds, gathering your slick. Your high was building steadily the entire time, the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter. But in an instant it was gone. Jake’s ministrations on the hard bundle had stopped completely when he switched the hand holding his dick to pump himself a few times, covering him tip to base in your arousal.

You were ready to beg, and plead for him to do something, anything, when he slammed himself into you fully. The force with which he rocked into you caused your elbows to give out, your weight leaning solely on your forearms against the cold wood of the desk, and forcing your back to arch more.

“Fuck Jake!” You gasped in pleasure at the way he stretched and filled you just right. It was borderline painful, but that's what made it so delectable. His hips hammered into you, punishing and unrelenting. Just the way you liked.

You pressed your hand against the cool mirror to protect your head from being rammed into it, never taking your eyes off of Jake. Sweat trailed down his face and chest, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. The scene was like one you had seen almost a hundred times, but not restricted solely to the bedroom. He looked as he did on stage not too long ago, brows furrowed and pinched together, mouth hung open slightly, hips thrusting and eyes glued to the source of his pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” He nearly growled watching his cock piston in and out of you, “God you take me so fucking well. Like you’re made just for me, isn’t that right?” He tore his eyes from where the two of you connected and met yours through the reflection in the mirror. All of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The sight of his dark, lustful eyes rimmed in the black eyeliner had depleted you of all thoughts and oxygen. You could only stare back at him and nod with your mouth open.

Air quickly filled your lungs again with a sharp breath as his hand came down on your ass. The sound cracked loudly throughout the space, the motions of his hips never ceasing. You knew there was likely to be a full handprint, red and angry etched onto your skin.

“I’ll try again in case you didn’t understand the question,” He planted his hand on the vanity next to your elbow, the sweat that spilled down his chest now began to seep into your shirt as he leaned into you. His other hand gripped your hip, using it to hold you firm. You didn’t dare look away from him, holding eye contact while he spoke next to your ear.

“Who does this dripping cunt belong to?” He asked, his voice low and gruff. You couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled passed your lips even if you had tried.

Jake was always sweet and gentle with you. He would constantly whisper ‘i love you’s into your hair with a kiss, bring you flowers any chance he had, open doors for you and hold you like you were the most fragile thing on the planet. You knew he would never hurt you intentionally and loved the way he worships you.

Every now and then, though, you would get this side of Jake. He was demanding and rough and obscene. And you loved every single bit of it. This was exactly what you had been hoping for when you saw him on stage earlier in the night, and you were ready to feed into this side of him.

“You, daddy, it’s all for you. Only for you.” You cooed watching for his reaction. His jaw clenched, and you could’ve sworn the chocolate of his irises turned solid black.

In a split second he stood back up, both hands latched onto your waist. The speed on his hips never waivered, but his hands guided your hips to meet his with every thrust.

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly.

Your promise was quickly forgotten as his hips drilled into you faster and harder. The pace he set was absolutely grueling. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to your end, you couldn’t hold your head up any longer. Your chin dropped down to your chest, your eyes squeezing shut.

“What did I just fucking say?” Jake’s hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you upwards as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. When your back was fully flush against his chest, his hand moved upwards to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. With the new angle you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

Jake knew instantly. He knew your body better than anyone. Knew all the signs of your impending orgasm.

“I’m gonna-“ You were swiftly cut off with a smack to your left outer thigh.

“No you aren’t, you’re gonna be a good girl and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” Jake grit out through his clenched teeth next to your ear, hot breath cascading over your sticky skin.

Using the hold on your jaw he roughly pushed you back towards the counter top of the vanity. Your left arm shot down, your right catching on the mirror to stabilize yourself. Every breath, moan, and whine escaping your mouth fell against the mirror making it fog slightly.

“Jake please, please. I can’t- I need to- fuck, I need to cum, please.” You whine, giving him your best fucked-out-doe-eyes.

Jake’s only response was a groan coming from deep within his chest. His hand that was previously on your jaw wound tightly in your hair, drawing your head back sharply. The new pleasure that coursed throughout your body was heavenly. You felt him everywhere, and it was sinful bliss.

With the grip on your hair, he used the leverage to pull your body backwards to meet each unforgiving thrust of his hips. The only sounds that came from you now were choked back sobs as you did your best to keep your orgasm at bay. You did as you were told and kept your eyes on his reflection, his lust blown orbs staring back at you.

“Oh fuck babygirl, just like that.” The words came out low and breathy, sending you headfirst into your long awaited climax. Through your squinted eyes you watched as Jake’s head snapped back, his mouth hung open.

Before he reached his own climax, he pulled out of you quickly. His fingers circled your clit making sure to carry you through the rest of your high. When you finally came down, he turned you around pressing your ass to sit on the counter. Without warning Jake dropped to his knees in front of you and pulled your thighs around his shoulders, eyes boring into you the entire time.

He dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, gathering your release and groaning deeply, his eyes rolling backwards. The sight alone was enough to bring you to the edge so quickly. The smudged eyeliner underneath his eyes made him look so soft, yet dangerous. Like he could flip on a dime at any moment and split you in half just as he was moments ago.

With each pass of his tongue over your sensitive bundle the coil deep in your core burned hotter. Jake was steadily working you towards another orgasm with his velvet smooth tongue alone. Your nails raked against his scalp, pulling groans from him and sending the vibrations straight to your dripping heat.

You could spend eternity like this. Jake’s head between your legs, worshiping you the way he loves most. He looked absolutely divine. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and neck. The ends of his hair clinging to the wet skin. The look in his eyes was probably the best part. He looked like he was in absolute heaven, enjoying the way his tongue glided against you, gathering every bit of your sweet nectar.

Just when you were about to fall off the edge, Jake pulled back with a wicked grin. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean what he missed. You huffed a needy sigh in retaliation.

“What’s the matter babygirl?” He rose to his feet and placed his hands on the vanity, caging your hips between them. His eyes darted around your face in faux concern before his mouth broke into a smirk.

“Oh.”

Such a simple word, but it was mocking and condescending, “Did you think I was going to let you cum?” The arrogant smirk never left his face as he reached up to tuck the hair from your face behind your ear. His hand slid down your neck softly, landing on the juncture of your throat and shoulder.

“Only good girls get to cum more than once, baby. You haven’t been very good.”

“I’ve been good.” You whined with a pout, squirming under his gaze.

“But you haven’t. I told you not to cum until I said so and did you listen?”

“No.” You dropped your chin to your chest, your focus landing on his necklaces dangling from his chest. His hand snaked up your neck to the base of your skull, his thumb pushing under your jaw and forcing you to look up at him.

“No, you didn’t. Do you know what that means?”

“I need to be punished.” You whispered innocently and sweet, looking at him doe-eyed.

“That’s right, baby. Stand up.”

You did as he asked and stood from your seated position with a little help from Jake. He led you to the couch where he rid himself of his pants and boxers fully before taking a seat.

“You’re gonna ride me until I say you can cum. Is that clear?”

He looked glorious sprawled out across the mundane couch. His arms were outstretched on the back, legs wide open and cock pressed against his soft, yet firm stomach. Everything about him in this simple state exuded confidence and authority.

The cushions of the couch were plush, your knees sinking into them softly as you moved closer to straddle him. With your mouth practically watering you nodded frantically. You received nothing but a ‘tsk’ from Jake and a firm hand connecting to your backside earning a hiss from your lips as you sucked in a quick breath.

“I asked you a question.” He was stoic with an eyebrow cocked looking up at you, waiting for another slip up.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s my girl.” His hand soothed the sting it left behind and slid upwards to rest on your waist. You lowered yourself down onto his lap with your hand wrapped around his length, guiding him through your slick walls.

He wore the same authoritative expression as you lowered yourself all the way down. Cocksure and waiting. It was a sight that made you that much more aroused. Something about the way he emanated power while you were mechanically in control turned you on immensely.

With both hands on his shoulders for support you lifted yourself up while rolling your hips forward before taking all of him in again. The speed you moved was steady, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing and pulling against your clenching walls. Each motion of your hips wound the coil tighter and hotter, your second orgasm within reach.

It was at this point that Jake grew impatient. His fingers dug roughly into the flesh at your waist and he took control of your hips, lifting you up quickly before slamming you back down on him fully. With each descent of your hips to his, you were met halfway as he began to thrust up into you. Moans, and gasps tumbled past your lips with an occasional curse word.

Your body eventually gave up, letting Jake have all the power. The only thing holding you upright were your arms looped around his neck and his left arm cradling the entirety of your back, your head supported with the same hand. In this position he was all around you. There was nothing else, only Jake.

You kept your eyes locked on his, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, his lips drawn up into something akin to a pinched sneer.

“Is the pretty girl too fucked out to beg?” He mocked between thrusts. You couldn’t answer him, not a coherent thought forming.

“That’s okay baby. She’s doing all the begging for you, gripping my cock so tight. I know she wants it.” Your eyes rolled back at the way he spoke about your pussy. He was going to be the death of you.

“Go on then, let her have it. Cum for me, princess, give it to me.” Jake grit between clenched teeth, holding back his own climax just long enough to demand yours. For the second time he threw you over the edge into the vast pit of searing pleasure. The feeling was euphoric and relieving, the intense pressure that had been building finally released.

Though your senses were dulled through the haze you could feel water coating your thighs, ass and belly, soaking portions of your shirt.

“Oh fuck!” Jake groaned from below you the sound emanating from deep within his chest. He fucked into you faster somehow prolonging your orgasm and increasing the amount of liquid you felt splattering your skin.

“That’s it babygirl, keep soaking my cock. Such a good girl squirting for daddy. Goddamn.” Praises flew past his clenched teeth as he reached his own high only to fall on deaf ears. You were far too gone to understand any of what he was saying.

Violent muscle spasms rolled through your body while Jake did his best to support you through his release. He pulled your body into his with your chests pressed together and your cheek resting against his shoulder. The spasms faded into twitches before dissipating while you laid against him. You could feel every breath he took, his chest heaving up and down.

“Goddamn you are perfect,” Jake whispered breathlessly and turned to place a kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair with his hand, “I love you so much, baby.”

You peered up at him, not having the energy to move your head, and met his eyes. He was smiling softly at you and practically glowing. A smile etched its way onto your face, tired and completely fucked out.

“I love you too.”

The two of you stayed in that position for a little while longer until you were uncomfortable, your combined sweat beginning to dry. You sat up from his sticky chest and winced due to the soreness and him still being tucked inside you. Jake was about to help you off of him when you froze.

The entire couch was practically soaked. The cushions on either side of you were wet and you were positive the one below you had to be drenched. Your shirt was also wet, the lower half of it clinging to your skin, and Jake’s groin and belly showed remnants of liquid that had sprayed across him.

“Oh my god…”

“Made quite the mess baby, but it’s okay,” He pulled you closer with a hand to the nape of your neck, “It was insanely hot.” He flashed you a smirk and placed a quick kiss to your lips.

He helped you ease off of him and stand, holding your hands while you regained your balance on wobbly legs. When he was sure you could stand on your own he followed suit. Your guess was in fact correct. The cushion that had been below you was almost completely covered.

Jake followed your wide eyes staring at the couch. As if sensing your anxiety he pulled the cushion out of the couch, turning it 180° before flipping it over and placing it back on the couch. He did the same with the others before looking back to you.

“Good as new.” He pulled you into his side and kissed your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a thankful squeeze.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, baby. Now,” He squeezed you back before untangling himself from you to face you fully and hold both of your hands, “Let’s get you a new shirt and get back to the hotel so we can take a nice hot shower and clean you up. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven.” You sighed dreamily feeling your body relax at just the mention of hot water cascading over your aching muscles.

“Not quite,” Jake chuckled and shook his head, “You’re the only thing on this earth that’s like Heaven, baby.”

“If I’m like Heaven, then what’re you?”

He gave you a wicked grin and shot you a wink, holding his arms out as if presenting himself.

“Welcome to Hell, angel.”

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viennakarma · 2 months

Text

Everybody wants a taste

Pato O’Ward x Reader

Summary: Pato knows better than to push you, but sometimes he does. The punishment is bad, but sometimes he can count on you to be merciful.

Word count: 2.3k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, smut, +18, porn with very little plot, Dom!reader, Sub!pato, rough sex, slapping, biting, praise kink, degradation kink, jealous!reader, possessive!reader, brief aftercare, not beta read

Relationship: Pato O'ward x Reader

Note: This is a birthday oneshot for my best friend Sophia, who loves to lurk around in my blog (and she thinks I don't know what her user is)! Happiest birthday, Sophia! I love you, thank you for being my friend. [o que você não me pede sorrindo que eu não faço chorando? eu avisei que o tempo ia me inocentar, hehe]

If you are pato o'ward and is seeing this, LEAVE!

“Strike one,” you mumbled close to Pato’s ear as you watched him perk up to your voice. His hold on a champagne flute shook minimally but you knew he heard you and understood the warning in your voice.

Pato had been more socially involved in tonight’s party. Which usually wouldn’t really bother you too much, but when there were at least three random women openly flirting with him, and he didn’t do anything to stop it, it really got on your nerves. And he knew the only one getting punished for it is himself.

You left him alone and went to the bar, asking for a new mojito, but your eyes were trained on Pato on the other side of the room. He was aware of you too, the flush on his cheeks you knew was a reflection of your power over him.

He kept talking with the same women who were flirting with him before. You mentally gave him ten more minutes to pack up the conversation and come to you. When he didn’t, you raised your hand and showed him the number two.

Strike two.

He gulped, saying something to the women and scurrying away from them. He started walking up to you, but he was halfway through when one of the women stopped him standing in front of him and running a hand up and down his chest. It was only a couple of seconds, and Pato quickly held her wrist, told her off and kept walking up to you.

You sipped your drink, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes when he finally stopped in front of you.

“Strike three, Patricio,” you said with a saccharine smile and he shook his head.

“You saw that- she came onto me! I didn’t do anything!”

“Had you stopped her way before, none of it would’ve happened.”

“But she-”

You held a finger up, and he silenced. After finishing your mojito, you set it down and took Pato’s hand, walking away. He followed you into the taxi, and quietly sat down on the way home. You absentmindedly held a hand on his thigh. Pato tried to not to squirm, knowing that you were pretty pissed at his little stunt. You were the jealous type, and when he was feeling a little adventurous, he’d go out of his way to get a rise of you, but tonight had not been his intention to piss you off and risk not being allowed to cum, as you knew it was the one punishment he didn’t enjoy fully.

At home, you two removed your coats, and you sat on the sofa, seemingly relaxing against the cushions. Maybe you were in a good enough mood to not punish him.

“Can I take off your heels?” Pato offered, kneeling by your feet. You arched an eyebrow but offered your foot. He unlatched the straps of your heels, and you sighed as he massaged each of your feet softly.

Pato stood up and went into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water that you almost chugged down, he knew you always got thirsty after nights out. But you knew better, you knew he was trying to butter you up after hitting three strikes at the party. You opened your arms, and he fell face first into your chest, nuzzling his face on the low cut of your dress. You scratched up and down his back, and he practically purred into you, melting.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, baby,” you muttered and he just stood up, carrying you into the bedroom.

He only stopped when he placed you on the floor by the bed. You linked both arms around his neck, tiptoeing to kiss him on the lips. Pato’s hands circled your waist, and he palmed your ass just as you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth and feeling him sighing into your lips. You kissed down his jaw, then you held his face, kissing down his neck, biting softly. He melted, and you tightened your hold on his jaw.

“You think I don’t know you’re trying to evade your punishment? Being a good boy now won’t spare you,” you bit harder on his neck, and he groaned out loud, “take your clothes off and get on the bed. Boxers stay on.”

He whined because he knew his boxers only came out if he were to cum, and right now, he wouldn't. You went into the closet and got a pair of leather handcuffs, a collar and a crop. You took your clothes off, staying only with panties on. When you went back, he was laying on the bed, as instructed. As soon as he saw the handcuffs, he put both hands up so you could tie him to the headboard, you knelt beside him, placing the cuffs and then, the collar around his thick neck.

You sat on his lap, only two layers of fabric between your cunt and him. Leaning down, you kissed him hard, devouring him, sucking his tongue, biting his lower lip, nipping at his chin. You grounded your hips on his, moaning at the feel of his erection under you.

“I’m using you tonight, baby,” you told him, moving your hips up and down his covered cock, “be good, and maybe you get a reward in the end, yes?”

“Yes, please,” he moaned, bucking his hips up, into you. You sighed, slapping his face, not very hard just as a warning, but he smiled at you, all sweet and innocent. So you slapped him again, his face flush and he bit back a smile.

You scooted back until you were between his legs, running your hands up and down his muscly thighs. You leaned down, fully mouthing at his cock over his boxers, and he moaned pathetically. Letting your saliva drip down onto the fabric, you fully sucked on him, wetting him all over and making a mess.

“Ah, please, please, love-” He moaned out loud, trying to control his hips, shaking.

“I’m sorry? Did you say something?” You stopped, and he whined, shaking his head no.

You ran your nails up and down his chest, and his breath hitched. You kissed his chest, then you bit down on his skin until a red mark was left. Pato loved pain, he was so turned on whenever you marked his skin out of possessiveness. You knew he would never go for someone else, but a jealous part of you was satisfied that if he ever did, there would be bite marks and hickeys all over his chest to let anyone know who Pato belonged to.

You quickly stood up so you could remove your damp panties. On top of him again, you scooted over, until you had a knee on each side of his head, and the motherfucker smiled wildly as soon as he realized what you were doing.

He welcomed your cunt with an open mouth as you sat on his face, his tongue lapping up at your folds up and down. As a motorsports driver, he had great head and neck control, so you could fully sit on his face and he would be fine.

You moaned, holding on the headboard for balance. He sucked you as if he was making out with your cunt, and you quickly built up to your orgasm. You were so close that you started to ride his face full force, one hand on his head, pulling his hair as you rode him, his stubble was a good kind of pain against your sensitive skin.

When he fully sucked your clit, you were a goner. Moaning and writhing until that shaky haze left your body after you fully rode out your orgasm.

“Ah, baby! You’re such a good boy making me cum,” you said, moving from his head, looking at the complete mess you made of his face.

You held his face and kissed him, tasting yourself and he moaned into your mouth when he felt your hand cupping him over his boxers.

“What is your color?” You asked, breaking the kiss with a string of saliva between your lips.

“Green, baby. Please, please!” His hands bucked against the handcuffs. You hummed and squeezed his cock harder, his boxers wet with both your saliva and his precum.

“I’m not sure if you deserve anything good today, honey” you reached for the crop, hitting Pato’s thighs with it, and he squirmed.

“I’ll be good, mami. I promise I’ll be so good for you!” He pleaded, sweat coating his forehead and the bite marks already showing up purple all over his chest.

You pulled at his boxers, finally setting his cock free, and he moaned at the possibilities. Leaning down, you spit over his cock, not that he really needed, he had leaked so much precum already. You wrapped a hand around his girth, pumping him torturously slow, up and down. You watched his face contort into pain and pleasure, and he tried his best to not fuck into your hand. He failed, so you gripped the crop and hit each side of his face with it. Pato kept moaning and whispering his begging words.

Finally, you let go of the crop, got on his lap and lined up his cock into your entrance. He looked down, all hopeful.

“If you cum without my permission, you will regret it, Patricio.” Your voice was serious, and he nodded in agreement. You reached for his face and slapped him, and he groaned as you placed his cockhead into your warm cunt, “answer, me.”

“Yes, yes, yes! I won’t cum- cum without your permission, mami!” He nodded.

You sunk into him, at once and you felt so full you needed a moment. His eyes rolled back at the feel of your tight, warm cunt. You placed both hands over his chest for balance, then you started riding him, slow at first, up and down with your wetness coating his length. You were going slow, but so hard that he hit that one spot inside you that had you shaking with desire, the knot in your core tightening up before release.

Both of you were moaning obscenely loud, your falling on your face as your muscles started to strain from the movements.

“Ah, mami, please let me cum! I’m so close!”

“Hold it,” you told him, not stopping.

“I can’t! Feels too good- fuck- ah, I can’t-”

You pulled him out, scooting forward on his abdomen and away from his cock as he cried out, so close to his release.

“I told you not to. I’m going to touch myself and make me cum, and you won’t get any release today,” you threatened. He whined.

“No, no, I’ll be good! I won’t cum until you say so, please. Please let me fill you up!”

You chuckled at his eagerness, and you went back, spearing yourself on him once again. Tired of games, you started riding him, fast and hard, pounding both of you on the bed. Running your hands up and down your body, you pinched your nipples and rubbed your clit, until it had you cumming hard on his cock, your cunt clenching so hard on him that Pato thought he was going to pass out trying to hold back his own orgasm. He managed to resist the warm embrace of your cunt pulsing through your high, letting your moans fill the room and you recover from your own orgasm.

“You’re good, baby, so so good holding back f’me,” you said, breathless, “got your first reward.”

You leaned to the headboard, your tits pressing over his face, and uncuffed his wrists, massaging softly with your hands.

“Can I touch you?” His eyes shone like a boy in the park.

“Yes, baby,” you placed his hands on your hips, and started riding him again.

You kept the rhythm from before, snapping your hips, now with the aid of his own hands. It didn’t take much for him to start stuttering, his moans louder by the second.

“I’m sorry, so so sorry! I’m sorry-” Pato said between groans as his hips started bucking into yours.

“It’s ok, baby. You can cum,” you finally allowed him, pulling on his collar to choke him a little bit.

“Thank you, mami. Thank you, thank you!”

He came with a loud groan, his eyes rolling back and his grip on your hips bruising as he twitched inside you, and you clenched around his cock, milking him within an inch of his life. He was all flushed and fucked out, his face sweaty, rosy lips, teary eyed with his pupils blown wide. One of your favorite versions of him. You plopped on his chest, both of you panting and worn down.

You cuddled for a little while, then you managed to get Pato into the bathroom for a warm and quick shower to clean the two of you. He washed you and you washed him, softly and with much affection as always. Aftercare was such an intimate moment between you, always checking with each other if everything was alright. You ran a hand through his hair, down his back, up to his shoulders, and he sighed contently as you ran your hand down his chest. Before leaving the shower, he hugged you, kissing your head and holding you tight for a couple of seconds.

He was sleepy when you got back to bed, you checked his hickeys and bites to see if you had accidentally hurt him, then you put some cream on his skin.

You laid down and Pato laid on top of you, his face against your boobs just as he loved to do.

“Baby, you were very good today,” you told him, softly running a hand through his hair.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“We need to get water and a snack, come on,” you poked him, but he nuzzled further into your boobs.

“Just five more minutes?”

“Ok, five more minutes, then” you kissed his head.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” you pulled his head to peck his lips, “and I love you too.”

#formula 1 #smut #pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o'ward x you #indycar #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #arrow mclaren #patricio o'ward

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yandere-romanticaa · 3 months

Text

Dabi is such an interesting character to me. I find it so fascinating how he says that he does not care about some things, how he could not give a single crap about anything that's going on. With his easygoing attitude and flat tone, no one could blame you for thinking that way.

It was one of the many reasons why you wanted to break up with him.

Falling for Dabi to begin with was beyond unexpected. The man positively reeked of trouble. The second he stepped foot in your favorite coffee shop, you know that the only thing that guy could bring was chaos. The way he carried himself was a dead giveaway, even if most of his face was covered. You had no idea that he was a wanted criminal at the time and perhaps that was one of the reasons why you approached him to begin with.

Besides, life was just dull. Nothing was going on in your life, no sparks, no excitement. Every single day started to feel like the same shade of grey, the old colours of the world morphing into something so forgettable that it made you want to pull out your hair. So what if talking to this guy was a possible mistake?

It was better than nothing, you told yourself.

You can still recall his strong smell - smoke with a hint of some cheap cologne, perhaps a vain attempt to cover up that third metallic smell which couldn't be hidden no matter how hard he tried. Beneath that dark hoodie of his you could see his lips twitching and just as he was going to tell you off for bothering him, you introduced yourself.

The rest was, as they say, history.

Dabi was a bit of a weirdo but you didn't mind. You enjoyed his quirks and even liked to compliment his appearance from time to time, which made the villain wonder just how sick in the head you really were.

He never made any moves to shoo you away though.

And that stone cold fact was something which the League would often make fun of him for it. Dabi would usually end their jabs and jeers with an annoyed scoff and just leave the bar, hands in his pockets but no one was buying it.

Dabi wasn't sure if he wanted you near those clowns. The thought of someone else oogling you, in the same manner as he did, set him off. Dabi started to make the effort of seeing you more, whether or not you knew he was actually there was up for debate. He stuck to the shadows, tailing you day and night and he would reveal himself only if he saw fit.

Dabi wasn't sure why he was doing this, wasting his time with some weak little civilian.

When the day had ended and the sun was setting, Dabi would lazily walk back home. His mind would be rushing with thoughts of you, his knuckles in a tight grip as he kept them hidden in his deep pockets.

He could kill you whenever and however he damn well pleased.

Dabi had the terrifying ability to snuff the life out of you, and that thought gave him a rush of adrenaline, dare he say confidence.

Your life really was in his hands.

You often felt the need to explain away Dabi's red flags - he's just tired, that's why he's so cranky! Oh, he got mad that you went out with someone else? Well, um... There are so many bad guys out there, it makes sense that he would be worried. Because that is what a good boyfriend did - worry about his precious baby.

Dabi was smart (even a little kind) enough to keep his burn scars hidden away from you but the ones on his face were impossible to conceal. The villain would often find himself enchanted by your gentle touch as you'd trace your delicate fingers across the rough flesh, a stark contrast to the sheer softness you radiated.

He was often torn between two options - does he keep that softness safe or will he sink his fangs deep in your neck, claim you all for himself?

Day after day, the second opinion started to sound so much more appealing.

Dabi's love was all over the place. There would be times when you would hardly ever see him. No calls, no texts, no nothing. For all you knew he could have been dying in a ditch somewhere and you'd be none the wiser. You tried countless times to open up to you about his job but he would just shut you down in record speed. He would never get annoyed or angry with these questions but that did not ease your worries.

And with the prying eyes of friends and relatives, it got even harder to keep yourself so delusionally in love.

None approved of your relationship with Dabi. You shed countless tears due to their harsh protests, which often meant that you would run away straight into the arms of the main issue. Dabi would hold you in your bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you. His shirt would be covered in your tears and snot. Perhaps he would grumble about it later but not at the moment.

He was not a good person, but he did not want to be a complete monster towards you.

After these incidents, almost everyone who was ever close with you would start dropping like flies. All died violent, brutal deaths with the main cause usually being severe burns inflicted on the victims of various parts of their bodies. Sometimes the scarring was so deep that even days later the corpse would radiate heat, the disgusting smell or rot forever sticking to your nostrils.

To describe the experience of being forced to identify those bodies as "traumatic" would have been the understatement of the century.

The walk back home was excruciating, perhaps even a little otherworldly. There was no left in the world who cared for you anymore, no one you could run to for safety and comfort.

The only one who you had left was Dabi.

Maybe, it wasn't so bad, being with him that is. Yeah, he could be a little mean sometimes but he would always make it up to you. Dabi would call you his doll and pepper your face with gentle kisses, which often made you giggle. Sure, not knowing what Dabi was doing at the dead of night made you worry so much that you would sob until the cracks of daylight but that was okay because he would always cross the threshold of your home in one piece.

You only had Dabi to worry about, and that was... Odd to manage.

Gone were the walks with friends, meals with family. There was no living soul on this Earth which cared about you, wanted to see you happy and thrive.

Dabi was the only person left in your life.

And that was when the horrible realization hit like a bucket of ice cold water.

Dabi was the only person you had left.

Every single complaint, he had memorized them, each and every one. You knew that this was the case as he would sometimes bring up the most random things you had said months after you said them to begin with, proving the fact that he actually was paying attention.

The door opens with a powerful slam which startles the man. He asks you what's the problem but all hell breaks loose.

You scream, shout, cry. You accuse him of every possible crime he could have committed and he says nothing. Dabi sits on the sofa, his legs crossed as his cheek rests on the palm of his hand. You go on and on and Dabi doesn't bother to stop you.

Not until he lets out a deep chuckle.

Took ya long enough, he said to you. The tips of his fingers ignited with blue flames, a silent threat to keep you from screaming. You couldn't even bolt towards the door and there were no other escape routes.

He finally had you where he wanted you.

Dabi wasn't stupid. He knew that you planned on dumping him for a while now. He could not allow that, not now. Not when you had forced your way deep into his heart and made a home there. Dabi had nothing in this world and he made sure that you had nothing either.

Now, you had each other. And to him, that was more than enough.

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cod-dump · 5 months

Text

Invincible Like I’ve Never Been - Teen!Ghost AU

AleRudy

featuring trans!Rudy, Alejandro, and Alejandro’ father

TW: mentioning of domestic violence

This takes place when Rudy is 15 and Alejandro is 16, before Simon and Johnny start dating and before Farah comes to live with Simon and his family.

———

He felt like he had to choice on what to do. He couldn’t go to Valeria’s house, her parents would call his in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t be safe there. He couldn’t go to the police, they wouldn’t listen to him. So he went to Alejandro’s.

He walked on the wood’s line behind the houses to avoid being near the street, hand gripping his phone in a tight grip as his eyes darted between the woods and the houses. He was terrified of his father finding him, dragging him back home and sending him off somewhere. So scared that he’d never see Ale again, only see Valeria when his parents allow him to attend dinners with their friends.

Rudy stopped when he finally came to the house he was looking for. He shook as he walked around the house, knowing better than to knock on the back door. He had to breathe for a moment before he knocked, hand still gripped on his phone he had long powered off. He wasn’t sure why he still had it at this point.

Rudy flinched when the door opened and Alejandro’s father greeted him with his famous friendly glare. It softened the moment he saw Rudy.

“Lina? What are you doing out so late?”

Rudy swallows, heart hurting and voice small, “Can I see Ale?”

Leonardo looked him over before stepping aside, “‘Course, mija. Come sit.”

Rudy walks in, flinching when he feels Leonardo touching his shoulder as he passes and his hand immediately leaving when he feels Rudy flinch. Rudy mindlessly goes to the living room to go to the bedrooms down the hall, but he stops and turns to look at Leo.

“Please don’t call my parents… or tell them I’m here.”

The man’s jaw clenched before he nodded. Leonardo was a good man, very rough around the edges and tended to talk with his hands more than his mouth, but he was good. Rudy trusted him to not say anything if anyone came poking around or to make the right decision for the situation. So he left it up to him what to do if someone came knocking… he hoped no one did.

Rudy knocked lightly on Ale’s door before opening it. Alejandro was lying in bed watching TV. He jerked up into a sitting position when the door opened, blinking owlishly when he saw Rudy.

“Rudy? What are you doing here so late?”

Every ounce of composure Rudy had shattered and he started crying, Alejandro jumping off his bed to run to him, wrapping his arms around the boy as he cried. They were on the floor in seconds, Rudy clinging to Ale as he sobbed, unable to speak or stand. Ale said nothing, just held him, confused and worried.

He wasn’t sure how long they were there or how long Rudy cried, but he cried until there were no more tears, just an empty numbness. Alejandro held him the same and rubbed his back in a soothing manner that helped Rudy feel at ease.

“I told them.”

Alejandro was quiet, squeezing Rudy a little tighter which was the only thing showing Rudy he heard him.

“It was stupid. I should’ve known better,” Rudy muttered, wanting to cry but he didn’t have it in him.

This closeness between him and Alejandro is what led to the incident. His parents questioning him dating a boy like Ale, a boy who lived in a single parent household and worked with his father at his and his aunt’s store, his father being a felon with a bad history, with a gang of fellow criminals often in his company. They didn’t approve, didn’t like Ale or his father. It made Rudy angry, he felt the need to defend them both.

And other things came to light.

“He hit me.”

Alejandro tensed, “What? Your dad?”

Rudy just nodded, “He said he was going to ship me off, get me ‘fixed’. I got scared and ran.”

They were going to come looking for him, they were going to take him away and ship him off to some conversion therapy clinic and not let him out until he’s their ideal daughter. They don’t want him, they want their perfect little girl.

“They won’t get you, I won’t let them,” Alejandro growled, lips in Rudy’s hair and arms secure around his shoulders.

Rudy wanted to believe him, that he could keep them away.

Eventually Leo knocked on the door, stirring Rudy from where he laid against Alejandro. He didn’t open the door just spoke through it.

“I have some blankets for you, mija.”

Rudy blinked and Alejandro got up, going to the door. Rudy watched him step into the hall and hear quiet muttering between him and Leo. Rudy trembling as he stood off the floor, sitting on the bed. He wasn’t afraid of Leo calling them, not afraid of being kicked out. Yet he was still shocked by the man quickly determining he was staying the night… or maybe longer.

Alejandro steps back into the room with fluffy blankets, Rudy feeling honored getting something so soft looking. Knowing Ale and his father, that was a treasured blanket.

“I’ll get you something you can change into.”

Rudy took the blanket silently, words escaping him. He wanted to say so much, but he was so tired. So he took the soft shirt and pants Ale handed him and went to the bathroom to change. Rudy was used not looking at the mirror too long, used to ignoring its presence and what it shown. He just put the clothes on that smelled like Ale, thrown the ones he worn in the trash and went back to Ale.

And he laid in his arms, safe. He feared no one would take him in his sleep.

When they woke, it was to Leo banging on the door.

“Ale, get up!”

Alejandro just groaned as Rudy flinched away, sitting up and looking at the door, expecting it to swing open. But it didn’t, and Ale took his sweet time getting up. Rudy stared at him, Alejandro blinking before he even noticed.

“Sorry, Dad Alarm.”

Rudy huffs out a short laugh and Alejandro turns embarrassed. They left the room, Alejandro leading way to the small kitchen where Leonardo was, standing in front of the stove staring at a cooking pancake.

“Whoa, Dad at the stove? Is the world ending?”

Leo turns as Ale passes, swatting his shoulder. He then turns to Rudy, offering him a plate of fresh pancakes.

“Sorry for the fright, mija. Have to wake up that one somehow,” Alejandro glares, Leo matching it with a glare of his own, “Fix that face, boy.”

Alejandro only scowls deeper, Leo pointing his spatula at him in warning. Ale huffs before he goes to grab the orange juice out of the fridge. Rudy stood there awkwardly for a moment with the hot plate before he went and sat at the table.

The Vargas house was much different then the one he grew up in. Smaller, messier— But it felt so much more homey. Old wallpaper whose original color was long faded, old cracked tiles, the carpet in the hall with stubborn stains. Everything in his house was perfect. It had to be perfect. Not a single imperfection was allowed, nothing was allowed to be unique or dare to be different. A single hair was not allowed to be out of place.

Alejandro sits down with a grunt, a plate with a mountain of pancakes before him. Leonardo finally joins them after cooking the rest of the batter, plopping down across from Rudy. Rudy looked at the pancakes, the syrup in the middle of the table, the melting butter that Leo placed on top of the stack-

“It’s box mix, nothing special.”

Rudy blinks and looks up, meeting Leo’s gaze, “R-Right.”

“Bisquick, not allergic are you?”

“No, sir.”

Leonardo was undeniably an intimidating man. The tattoos, the muscles, the scars— He was terrifying. Narco, his mother called him. Rudy never was afraid of him, though. He was rough, but gentle. He loved his son, his community. Though tough love tended to be the way he showed that, according to Ale. But Ale never once doubted that the man cared about him, even when he was yelling at him, dragging him by his collar home after catching him running the streets. He didn’t want Ale to end up like him, even though that’s what he desperately wanted to be. Just like his father.

“Lina-,” Leo began but Rudy cut him off, though he wasn’t sure how the mumble that barely escaped his lips managed to do that.

“Rudy.”

Leo blinked, “Rudy?”

Rudy swallowed, nervously glancing at Ale. He didn’t look nervous, just taken aback by Rudy’s boldness. After last night you would think he would be more cautious with opening up to another adult… but Leo wasn’t his parents. While they stared in confusion, he just stared like he understood. And that gave Rudy confidence to continue.

“My name is Rudy, not Catalina.”

Leonardo hummed, “Rudy.”

He said the name like he was testing it, looking at Rudy like he truly saw him.

“I… My grandfather was Rodolfo…”

“Good name.”

Rudy swallowed and looked down, it was really too early to start crying.

“Rudy, why are you here?”

Rudy looked up, “I-… wanted to see Ale.”

Unconvinced, Leo stabbed his fork into his pancakes, “And you didn’t want me to tell your parents that? Be honest with me.”

Ale was silent and Rudy wanted him to not be. He wanted him to say something, anything, to get the attention off of him. Leo wouldn’t go to the police, he wouldn’t force Rudy to go back. But he didn’t want to repeat what had happened, it was hard enough telling Ale.

Like an ironic miracle, there was a knock at the door. Leonardo stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth before he stood up, going to the front door to answer. Rudy felt his heart start beating fast, anxiety creeping up on him as Leo answered the door. He saw his father and he scrambled out of the chair, trying to dart into the hall and into Alejandro’s room. But he wasn’t quick enough and the man spot him.

“Catalina Ortega! Get your ass over here!”

The moment the man tried to shove his way inside was the moment Leo decided he wasn’t going anywhere but on his ass outside. It was a quick motion of him grabbing Rudy’s father’s shirt and throwing him out the door, Leonardo marching out and slamming the door behind him. Rudy felt Alejandro come up and hold him, the shouting from outside was loud but muffled.

Rudy just held onto Ale, turning and burying his face against his chest. After a moment the front door opened and Leo stepped inside.

“I’m calling the police!”

“Go ahead! I dare you.”

Leonardo’s voice was threatening, a fire in his throat as he spoke. Rudy didn’t look, just let Ale lead him to his room. The fear was making him shake to the point he was sure he wouldn’t be standing if he didn’t have Alejandro’s support. They stayed in his room, in silence, for a while. Rudy just leaning against Ale as he stared at the door. They could hear Leo talking, but it definitely wasn’t to his father. He was on the phone, with who Rudy wasn’t sure. But Ale knew.

“The old man won’t let anything happen to you,” he assured him.

“Who’s he talking to?” Rudy muttered, resting his head on Ale’s shoulder.

“Probably to some… friends.”

Alejandro used the word lightly, Rudy understanding what kind of people be was referring to. But he wasn’t worried about them… or his father or mother. He felt secure where he was. Safe. The Vargas were good people, and Rudy trusted them to help keep him afloat.

———

#call of duty #modern warfare #teen!ghost au #rodolfo parra #alejandro vargas #alerudy #trans rudy #fanfic #fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

Am I the asshole for calling a (now ex-) mutual a stingy asshole?

So to start, I (NB20) am in a pretty rough situation, I'm facing homelessness soon, transphobia at home and work and my hours have been getting cut resulting in me making even less money that can sustain me. I have a toyhou.se forum post up stating I have emergency commissions open to help me out and to please support me if you can. This is where the situation begins. I have a mutual on toyhou.se who I'll call Apple (MTF22) I talk to sometimes to the point I'd say we are friends, not super close but friends nonetheless. She made a bulletin telling people about my commissions and to please comm me if they could which I'm very grateful for since I did get a few customers from her because of that. The thing is, a few weeks later, she made a bulletin talking about how happy she was so many commissions she bought were finished around the same time and posted all of them with the artists tagged in the post. It was honestly... quite a few, I'm talking like 9 pieces of art of her fursona and even a custom vtuber model she got of her sona. I was going to reply all happy for her, but it made me think... how much did she spend on those commissions?? So I went through all the artists socials to find their commission prices and came to a total of fucking $385!!! More than half of my current goal I'm trying to make through commissions to stay out of homelessness!! So I messaged Apple saying since I saw she bought a few commissions if she was interested in buying a comm from me. She replies saying "Ohh! I'd love to <333 but im just not in a place to buy any more comms right now :< sorry >.<!!" So I casually reply really? because it seems like your in the perfect place to help me out after already spending over $300 in commissions. She tells me she's sorry and really wishes someone would be able to help me out but she just wasn't that interested in my art or a custom to which I tell her she could've easily donated to my ko-fi which I have always had since she clearly has money to spend? To this, she straight up IP blocks me. So still fucking annoyed, I vented in a discord server I share with a few friends from being in a few shared CS together, saying how annoying it is rich assholes like her would drop half a thousand for a picture of their fursona but don't even blink twice at their so called friends. anyway, one of my friends takes a look at Apples th profile and notices she has a new bulletin up and sends me a screenshot, but anways the bulletin reads like "hey!! just saying, but please dont come into my dms acting like you know my financial situation better than i do, just because i buy a lot of commissions doesnt mean im made of money! and please dont think that me commisioning artist 1 means i hate artist 2? thats so weird, thanks!!!!!" and seeing all their subscribers just kissing her ass pissed me off so i made my own bulletin that just stated "i thought it was pretty fucking weird to know how bad ur friend's situation was and to go buy a bunch of comms instead of buying a comm from or even throwing a buck to help me out? like yeah im gonna think i know ur situation better than u, you stingy fuck!!!" Anyway, she mustve been block evading (which I reported her for) since she unblocked me, took a screenshot of my bulletin, then went on about how she lived in an abusive household; her dad had thrown her into a sink and chipped her tooth, bruised half her face and scarred it pretty badly. She bought a bunch of commissions immediately afterwards in a panic to make herself feel better, paying everything with her savings. Which to me.. isn't an excuse. Ive been hit and abused and still found scraps of money to pull together to give to mutuals who need it and Ive been bumping my own post like crazy and she had literal weeks to donate or comm me. Not to mention Ive had exmutuals of hers come to me saying that shes never donated anything to them either despite advertising their posts but always had money for plushies, comms and other crap, meaning Im not alone in thinking shes a stingy asshole. This is getting long, so here, tumblr AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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joonsmagicshop · 5 months

Text

Stress Relief

Summary: Taehyung gives you an offer you can't refuse

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Word Count: 2k

Rating: M/18+

Tags: Fingering, Fuck buddies

Author Note: This is a fic to get this series established. There is a small amount of smut. More info at the bottom

You could faintly hear water running in the background as you come back to your senses. You were still spread out on the bed, legs splayed open, fingers still clutching the fabric of your bed sheets below you, and chest heaving from orgasm number four.

Taehyung (Yes that Taehyung) usually fucked you good.

But today he was an absolute animal.

You let out a small whine at the soreness between your legs as you rolled on your side to fish for your sweater that had been taken off, well more like ripped off by Tae when he arrived at your apartment.

You didn't bother putting on pants because you knew how this went.

How it had gone for the last eight months.

He would text you asking if he could come over. You would reply, usually saying yes unless you were busy. He would pull up in an unmarked car to your apartment. Have mind-blowing sex with you then get you cleaned up and leave.

You had met nine months prior and both were immediately sexually attracted to each other. After a long discussion about what you both wanted you started to become fuck buddies.

Tae didn't want the drama of a relationship but still wanted to get laid and you had just gotten out of a relationship at the time and had no desire to jump back in.

It was perfect.

You sat up on the bed and frowned at the closed door.

He was usually back from the bathroom by now with a damp washcloth.

You slowly got out of bed and hobbled to the bathroom where you saw him on his knees getting a bath ready for you.

You cocked an eyebrow in confusion

He never stayed longer than he had to, and sure as hell never did this.

He must have felt you staring because he turned around and shot you a boxy grin, adorned back in his sweatpants and oversized hoodie

“Hey, uh what's all this?” You asked trying to keep the suspicion out of your voice.

“I-shit you hate it don't you?” He said boxy smile falling off his face.

“No! Not at all. I just. We don't do this? Ever? I'm just confused.” You admit as you lean against the counter and he turns off the water.

The bath does look heavenly with steam rising from it and the smell of lavender bubble bath in the air.

“Well I feel like I owe it to you, I was pretty rough this time.” He says with a cocky grin eyeing the bite marks he had left all over your thighs, which were starting to turn a beautiful shade of dark red.

“Tae it was fine, I would have said the safe word. But thank you.” You say as you remove your sweater and slowly climb into the bath.

He watched as you settled in.

You closed your eyes, fully expecting him to leave like he always did, but instead he closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it watching you.

“Tae…everything okay?” You ask watching how nervous he suddenly looks.

“Yeah, I…are you okay?” He responds, playing with his long fingers and not looking at you.

“Yeah, I said I was fine.” You say and a light blush covers his cheeks.

“Okay, Taehyung.” You say, which has his eyebrows shoot up. You never call him by his full name.

“What's going on? I don't want to sound rude, this is all very nice but you never do this. You clean me up and go. I'm not complaining at all! It's not a bad thing. I'm just..well… still confused.” You admit staring at him as his gaze finally catches yours.

“I want to talk to you about something.” He says slowly, carefully.

You stare him down and wait for him to speak. He looks so uncomfortable and nervous, picking at his fingers.

“Go ahead Tae. The floor's all yours.” You say softly waving your hand.

“I, well I know I've liked this arrangement we have and I know you do too. It works. And I think it's good for both of us. And god you are the perfect fuck buddy like I could not have asked for better, honestly.” He rambles.

“Tae. If you want to stop this arrangement you could have just said. You didn't need to butter me up with a hot bath or anything. We agreed to be open with each other.” You say.

“No! Oh god, I'm making this worse! I want…the opposite actually.” He says running his hands through his fluffy brown hair.

You stare at him.

He stares at you.

The room is thick with tension and steam from the warm bath. Even though he has seen you naked many times you still feel slightly vulnerable as you sit there and try not to let your mind run wild.

“Tae please, whatever it is just tell me.” You plead as he slides off the toilet and sits on the floor right across from you.

“I know what I want to say I just don't want it to offend you that's all.” He admits.

You let out a little laugh.

“Like twenty minutes ago you called me your little whore and spanked me raw. I don't think I'll be offended.” You say with a soft laugh as you see his features soften a bit.

“I-yeah you're right. Okay. So as I said I love fucking you. I love having someone I can text who can get rid of my stress. Again, you are the perfect fuck buddy. Really I couldn't have asked for better.” He starts, staring at the floor, once again not making eye contact.

Which has you nervous.

You feel like you are on the edge of a very tall cliff, you know something is coming but you don't know what.

“I-Well. The guys know about you. Not who you are or anything! Just that I have…someone on the side. They know about our…arrangement.” Tae says pausing again to gauge your reaction.

You weren't surprised. You knew how close they all were and you expected Taehyung to tell them about you, hell, you expected him to brag about his arrangement.

However, the both of you had a set of rules when you started this whole thing, one of them being he would never talk about work, or the other band members. So you were surprised he was even mentioning them to you at all.

“Anyway. We have been training for our tour, we leave in three months and everyone is very stressed and high-strung. Hobi almost hit Namjoon yesterday because he got a dance step wrong and nearly took him out.”

“The last couple of weeks have been very long and very tiring. I'm sure you noticed I've been calling on you more, and being a little more….rough.” He admits with a shy smile.

“Tae believe me it's hot as fuck. This is what our arrangement was for right? Stress relief. For both of us.” You remind him.

You didn't mind that he was calling on you more. You knew once he went on tour he wouldn't call on you at all so you were relishing all this until he came back.

“This is why I'm glad to have you. I love going on tour. I love seeing our fans but the prep can be…well. A lot. Everyone is feeling it. Everyone is at maximum stress. And you're like my oasis from all of it.”

“Well after our last practice, some of the guys mentioned… how they wish they had… what we had. An… arrangement where they could blow off some steam. Have someone to help with all the stress.” He says cocking an eyebrow.

Your mind is running a million miles a minute and you are sure your eyeballs are about to pop out. Is he suggesting what you think he is suggesting?

“I really don't want to offend you, and you can yell at me if you want. But I was wondering if you would be willing…to share the wealth. Help my bandmates with their tension. Let them fuck you.” He finishes finally staring at you.

Your jaw drops and even in the hot water of the bath, you feel yourself shiver. Goosebumps cover your arms and legs.

How could you possibly say no to that?

There was no universe or timeline where you would say no to that.

You knew the members of BTS of course, from what you had seen online as you had never met them but a slew of dirty thoughts started racing though your mind.

“You still with me?” Tae teases which has you snapping out of your thoughts and looking down to see some of the bubbles have disappeared and Tae can clearly see you clenching your thighs under the water.

“I-um sorry I think my brain stopped working.” You admit with an awkward laugh.

Tae leans down and presses a kiss to your collarbone as your eyes roll to the back of your head. His lips are soft and warm against your skin as his hand comes to palm your breast. It feels so good and you already feel yourself throbbing. You weren't sure if it was because of him, or his suggestion but you felt a moan fall from your parted lips.

His hands traveled down your wet, naked body and settled between your legs, which you opened obediently for him.

He darkly chuckled against your throat as he felt how soaked you were.

“God you really like that idea huh?” He mutters as a finger enters you and you buck your hips up at the sensation of him slowly thrusting his finger in and out.

“Tae. Fuck.” You cry out as he curls his finger under the water and rubs against that spot inside you that has you moaning out his name and gripping the side of the tub.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like to be Bangtan's little slut. Let all the members fuck you. So naughty Y/N. So dirty.” Tae growls out as his finger speeds up and you are a moaning, whining mess under him.

Soon enough he coaxes you through an orgasm that has you shaking and moaning below him. You bury your face in his sweater to muffle your cries as your wall flutters around his digit.

Once he removes his finger you throw your head back and try to catch your breath.

He is above you grinning as he watches you try to recover.

“Fucking hell Tae.” You say breathless as you stare him down.

“So I take it you like that idea?” He asks with a lick of his lips as his fingers dance around the water, swirling the leftover bubbles around.

“Yes. I do. Very much. Mhmm.” You say trying not to show how excited you are.

Tae laughs, he can see right through you. But is nice enough not to comment on it.

“So here's what I'm thinking. I talk to the members. Make sure they are okay with it. It will be the same arrangement we have. I give them your number. They text you when they need you. Sound good?” He asks.

“Sounds good to me.” You reply.

“Yeah seems like it sounds very good to you. Don't make yourself cum too much tonight thinking about it yeah?” He teases which has you flicking water at him.

“You are the one who suggested it!” You tease back with a laugh.

“I didn't want you to be offended and here you are, enthusiastic as ever. I love it.” He says removing his hands from the water and wiping them on your bath towel.

He stands up and adjusts his sweater, pulling it down to cover his hard-on. You smirk and Tae shoots you a look.

“Well, I should get going. Just remember who you belong to babe. I was here first.” He reminds you pointing to your thighs where the red bite marks are starting to turn into small bruises.

You nod at him and he winks at you.

“I don't think I'll let you know what they say. I think I'll let it be a surprise. If you get a text from an unknown number…well you'll know. Now be a good girl and don't be glued to your phone too much.” He says over his shoulder as he turns to leave which has your mouth hanging open in shock.

You hear him chuckle and slip his shoes on as he leaves, you lay back in the bath and close your eyes, mind reeling with what the next couple of months are going to be like.

-------------------------

Authors Note #2- Firstly, thank you for reading! I do plan to make this into a series! Here's how it will go, on the last day of each month (Starting January 2024) I will release another part

Seven parts total for Seven members (because let's be real Taehyung deserves a full fic not just a small intro)

I spun a wheel to decide the order (but purposely saved Namjoon for last for...reasons)

The Order that was decided was

Jimin, Jungkook, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hobi, Namjoon

If you want to be put on a tag list send me a message and I'll add you.

This series ends at the end of July 2024

#bts #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #bangtan #bts smut #bts fic

316 notes · View notes

everythingne · 5 months

Text

marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6

Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.

piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating

warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?

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01 JULY, AUSTRIA.

I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.

But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.

First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.

So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.

And then got immediately swamped by reporters.

Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.

"Ollie!"

Thank god.

"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.

"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.

"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.

"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.

"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"

"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.

"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.

"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.

"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.

"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.

"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.

"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin.

Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?

"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters.

"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."

I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me.

So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."

"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.

"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."

"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"

"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.

"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.

"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well.

"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."

"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.

"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."

"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.

"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.

"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"

"Did you hear what he said?"

"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"

"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.

"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"

"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.

"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"

"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.

"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"

"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."

"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?"

"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"

"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.

He can only whisper, "Why?"

"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.

"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.

"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,

"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"

Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this.

"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.

Do I ask Christian..?

"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."

"Ollie, wait!"

I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.

“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.

“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”

“I—“

“—Now, Christian!”

The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.

I don’t even know why I’m crying.

An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.

Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.

Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.

Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point.

Brothers.

Just like Oscar.

Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.

"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though.

“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.

"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"

"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.

"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"

"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."

"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.

"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."

"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.

"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.

"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.

Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.

01 JULY, TWITTER ↴

written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.

Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.

"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."

"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans."

"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."

When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.