#yes the phone is the light source
Text
prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
-
Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.
Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.
He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental.
And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.
Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—
He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.
In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing.
The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.
Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets.
And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one.
It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling.
They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed.
“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise.
Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”
Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment.
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside.
Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on.
Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl.
Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see.
So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out.
It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.
Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact.
“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks.
“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well.
“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.
“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm.
It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them.
Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her.
Breathe in and out.
“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.
She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well.
“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains.
“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words.
“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—”
“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.”
Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now.
He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it.
“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits.
It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding.
“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”
“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.
“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”
“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.
“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”
“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in.
Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.
He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick.
“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize.
Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”
Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite.
He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.”
Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground.
“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”
“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?”
Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”
Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”
“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.
He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave.
And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie.
Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being.
“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down.
Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way.
On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet.
Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.”
His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give.
Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous.
It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—
Even the thought makes him see red.
He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased.
“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion.
She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed.
His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.
She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room.
He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.
He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.
Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor.
The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”
Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world.
“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.
He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#soap/reader#ghoap x reader#ghost/soap/reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tangerine
Oscar Piastri x reader
Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2
Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?
Word Count: 6.8k
Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo
The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.
You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.
Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.
He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”
You raise your brows right back. “Working?”
You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.
“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”
He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.
“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”
He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”
You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”
You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.
It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.
“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”
He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”
You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.
“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”
Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”
You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.
He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.
He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”
“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.
“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.
“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”
“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”
“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”
You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.
“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“
He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.
“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”
You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.
“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.
You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.
“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.
He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”
You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”
You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.
You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.
You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.
…..
You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.
You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.
“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.
“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.
Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.
Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”
Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.
…..
Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.
“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.
“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”
You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”
When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.
You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.
What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.
“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.
“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.
“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”
You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”
He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.
“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.
You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”
Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”
He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.
“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.
He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”
“Right, we established that.”
“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.
You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”
“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”
“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”
“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”
“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”
“No, you won’t.”
You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.
…..
Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.
You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.
You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.
You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.
“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.
“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. ��Look at the time stamps.”
You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.
“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”
To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.
“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”
“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”
Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.
“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”
“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”
…..
Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.
When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.
The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.
You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.
He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”
You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.
“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.
“No judgement?” You ask.
“No judgement,” he promises.
You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”
He nods. “Sleep?”
“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.
He nods again. “Can I come with?”
You blank, staring at him. “What?”
“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”
Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.
“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”
“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.
You hook yours with his and seal the deal.
…..
You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.
“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.
It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.
After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.
You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.
“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.
You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“
“Insomnia,” he suggests.
“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”
You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.
You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.
Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.
“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”
You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”
He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”
“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.
“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.
Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.
You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.
“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”
Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.
By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.
“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.
He smiles. “Are you tired?”
You sigh. “No, but you are.”
“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”
You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”
He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”
You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”
He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”
“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”
“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“Me neither.”
You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.
The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.
He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.
The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.
“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”
“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.
“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.
Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.
“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”
Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.
Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“
“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”
He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.
It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.
“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”
“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”
He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”
That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.
“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”
You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.
You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“For what?” He asks, voice steady.
“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”
Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”
You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.
“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“
“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“
He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.
“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”
He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”
“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”
You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”
Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.
“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”
You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.
“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”
“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”
“Why would you want to?”
“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”
You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.
“If you want that,” he says, voice low.
You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”
He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.
“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“
You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.
…..
Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.
He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”
Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.
You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.
You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.
“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”
You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.
You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”
He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“
“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.
It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.
“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.
You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.
He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.
When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.
…..
“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.
You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”
Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.
You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.
check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here
thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#formula 1 fanfic#f1 oneshot#f1 fanfic#Oscar piastri oneshot#pls be gentle I am tired#honeywrites#op81#Oscar piastri#tangerine!verse
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Actions have consequences (Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN Civilian! Spouse! Reader) Part 1
Summary: In a heated argument between the two of you, Simon says something he will regret for the rest of his life.
CW: Simon being an asshole, Swearing, yelling, emotional hurt, heavy angst, car accident, descriptive writing of injury, Character death (?)
Simon truly wanted to be a good husband.
But nothing ever seemed to go smoothly in his life. From his fucked-up childhood, his own demons, to his role as the infamous Ghost. Everything had to eventually come to bite him in the ass.
You, his loving spouse, had always tried to ease his pain in any way that you could. It would vary from cuddling on the couch, to taking him somewhere to lay in the grass and watch the clouds go by. However, he'd been away longer. The world beyond the walls of his cozy home made him more bitter, jaded, and cruel when he returned home.
It was today that he finally snapped.
It was a small disagreement at first, something that had already felt foreign to you. Then it escalated. The both of you kept just kept going back and forth, spitting venom at each other from a supply with an unknown source.
"All I have been trying to do this whole time is make sure that you don't have to deal with the pain alone. I'm only trying to fucking help, Simon!" You yell with hot tears streaming down your face, the grip on your shirt so tight it makes your knuckles turn white.
"Marrying you was a mistake." He snarls. The way your face twists into an expression of pure horror at his words makes him want to take it all back. A choked sob leaves your trembling body as you bolt into the direction of the door. You ignore the frantic calls of your husband as you snatch your jacket and the car keys in one swift motion, not even bothering to look back as you slam the door in his face.
You make your way to the red sports car, unlocking the vehicle before plopping yourself down in the driver's seat. There was no going back now. You start the car, glancing to the side at your shared home with Simon one last time before you hit the gas.
"Fuck…" You whimper while running a hand over your tear-stained face. Simon's words echo through your mind over and over again, the feeling of knives stabbing into your heart becoming more and more evident with each and every loop.
'Marrying you was a mistake.'
Your eyes dart to the side as you catch a flash of bright lights, the booming horn of a truck being the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Simon sat on the couch, fingers dinging into his hair, as the tears finally stopped. It had been an hour since you stormed out the door, the look of pure horror on your face branded into his mind like the scars that decorated his body. How could he have said that to you? You, the love of his life, were the only person who had let him feel human in the times he needed it most.
"I'm such a fucking idiot." He scolded himself while smacking the sides of his head. The sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table was the only thing that brought him out of his self-pity. He reached out to the obnoxious device that tried to get his attention, turning it around to find the word 'unknown' flashing readily on the screen.
Alarm bells began to go off in his brain as he pressed down to answer the call. A sweet elderly voice was greeting him from the other side. "Hello? Is this Mr. Riley? I am calling from the Clementine Churchill Hospital." The moment the word 'hospital' registered in Simon's brain, he immediately froze.
"Sir?" The voice on the other side called again, to which this time he did respond. "Yes, you are speaking to him. Why did you call me?" Deep down, he already knew why. "Your spouse has been in a car accident. Do you have the possibility to come over?"
Simon's heart stopped beating.
The time between him rushing to the hospital and finally reaching your room was all but a blur to him. He now sat at your bedside, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the damage he had caused. You looked so frail, all wrapped up in bandages, with all different types of tubes and machinery hooked up to you.
There was only one thought that crossed Simon's mind at this very moment. It was all his fault.
If he hadn't yelled at you, if he hadn't let you walk out of that door, you would've been cuddled up on the couch together. You would be smiling at him, those beautiful eyes he came to love looking up at him with pure joy when you told him about your day. But you weren't. You were lying here, fighting for your life. All because of him.
"Sweetheart? I don't know if you can hear me… but I-" Simon had to swallow as he felt his world crumble around him. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've never allowed myself to say something so fucking horrible to you." Hot tears streamed down his face as he reached out to caress your cheek. "Please… please don't go. I can't-I can't lose anyone else." Simon wept as he held onto your hand, his lips brushing against your bandaged knuckles.
"Please…" He kept begging. He was hoping that someone, anyone, would hear his plea not to take you away from him.
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#ghost x reader#cod x reader#gender neutral reader#no use of y/n#HonourDoesWriting
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
pregnancy was never easy. if it was, fathers could do it.
and truly it was something that toji had learned throughout being married to you and seeing your belly swell with your baby girl. the constant mood swings, back pains, cravings and all. but toji is a wonderful husband. for that, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
anything you want, you get even if your midnight cravings hit. toji will still get up and get dressed before drive to the nearest store that has your favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
but being pregnant also means that toji has gotten far more protective than usual. more staying by your side, more checking up on you through his phone, more hiring security cameras and guards to keep you safe. despite your protests, he still thinks it’s necessary.
“sweethea—what the heck?” toji grumbles, eyes almost popping out of his sockets to see you’re not beside him. eyes glancing left and right and that’s where the panic begins to seep into him. “fuck” he scrambles out of the bed, seeing the clock hits at two am,
“no, no, no—“ he feels bead of sweats racing on his temples before slipping on his shoes and a shirt over his head. thinking that something might have happened to you.
god, i can’t go through this. not again. not you. please, please, not you.
toji may not have been the most religious man that has ever walked on earth. but he will beg on his knees and plead to the man up above to never take you away from him,
and just as he about to grab a gun off his safe, he hears the refrigerator door shut downstairs. the sounds making him halt as he quick to whip his head to the source of it.
his eyebrows then furrowed, putting the weapon down carefully before stepping out of your shared room. sometimes he curses himself for buying a home far too big because now he feels like it’s an eternity coming down the stairs. but again, he bought it for you.
the living room lights are already turned off, the only dimmed light he could see is from the kitchen. not only that, but he could hear the metals clinking. so slowly, with ever so confusion written across his face, toji approaches slowly
and there you are ever in your glory, body draped in your favorite pink silky robe sitting on the floor with your back against the fridge. a plate of not one but two red velvet cake slice in your hand as the other forks your way through the delicious treat.
toji heaves out a breathe of relief, knowing that nothing had happened to you. and the noise is loud enough for you to stop chewing and look up. eyes widen at your husband’s figure standing only a few feet away,
“hi” your voice sounds small. almost like embarrassed because you feel like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie off the jar,
“sweetheart” the nickname falls from his mouth like he’s happy to see you after being a part for so long. “what are you doing?”
your mouth slowly begin to chew, a cute smile making its way as your eyes glinting with innocence that toji can’t deny but feel like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
“the baby is hungry” is the only thing you can muster to a response, like it’s an obvious thing. “she wants cake” you giggle quietly,
oh yes, he is definitely falling harder for you again
“the baby is—“ he sighs, hands coming up to rub his face up and down. not because he’s upset but rather amused. “she wanted red velvet cake?”
“mhmm!” you nod vigorously, taking another big bite of the dessert. “and cream cheese frosting!”
and for the first time in a while, toji laughs with his head shaking at the sight of his beautiful wife eating cake at two am. “she told you that?”
“yes! i heard her whisper to me before i go to bed ‘mama.. can we eat the cake? but wait until dada goes to sleep’ because she knows how dada doesn’t allow mama to eat cakes” you smile at him, doing your best of baby voice. licking the cream off the utensil,
toji is grinning so hard he feels like his cheeks are hurting, his eyes are full of love when he looks at you and the little girl you’re growing in there,
“well dada is just taking care of mama so she will be healthy. she needs veggies and whole foods” he takes another step closer, sliding next to you. his eyes never leaving yours, looking at you so lovingly by the way you eat. “i thought something happened to you.. i was panicking”
you pout, not wanting to cause anymore distress on him. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that. but i couldn’t wake you up, you looked exhausted”
he frowns, bending his knees close to his chest. “you should’ve. i would gladly grab the cake for you hence you asked, baby” he leans forward and kiss your temple,
a grateful smile places on your lips, humming in a contentment at the feeling of his soft mouth on your skin. “hmm, i know—“ you cradle his cheek with your free palm, thumbing against his cheekbone and down to his scar.
he used to be so insecure about it until you made him not to be. giving so much praises and kisses about the scar that you think look so hot on him.
“want some?” you extend a spoonful of the cake towards his mouth, in which he opens almost immediately, biting onto the sweet goodness. “how lucky i am to have you, mr. y/l/n”
he laughs, wiping the walnut crumbs off the corner of his lips. “i should be the one saying that to you, doll”
maybe second chances do exist. and it’s a privilege for a person to earn one. toji may had done very questionable things in the past that would make a person think twice in befriending him, let alone married to him but change is real.
and the flaws are what makes it him. it’s one of the reason you are drawn to this beautiful man. because despite every negative seed he may have in him, he still tries. trying and trying to be the person you deserve and the father that your baby girl deserve.
it upsets you to no end knowing that everyone can’t see that. they just see him as a cold, reserved, selfish man who keeps himself closed from the world to see. they don’t see the tears he had shed almost every night for failing to be perfect, they don’t see him having a small banter with you because he wanted to take your last name, they don’t see the amount of times he locked himself in his room because of people talkinh, they don’t see him always rushing out of his office on fridays because he wants to get home before you do just so he can cook your favorite dish,
they don’t see all of that but toji doesn’t care. he doesn’t need their validation nor approval. he just needs yours.
because it’s you he always comes home to. you are his salvation. you are his peace. you are his dream came true.
you, you, you, you.
before you could protest, he presses his lips against yours and move his hand down to your bump,
“happy doesn’t even begin to describe how grateful i am to be your husband”
#lmao idk how it got from pregnancy cravings to angst#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff
934 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin men Instagram HCs
Ft. Xiao; Scaramouche; Zhongli; Childe; Alhaitham; Kaveh; Tighnari
(gender neutral reader but wears a dress in Scara & Zhongli's parts)
Xiao // @ a1atus
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Very rarely posts
Never pictures of himself, you’ll only see his face in tagged photos
If he does post, it’s probably a new album cover of a band he likes, a particularly good plate of almond tofu from his favorite café, or—if he’s in a particularly good mood—a cute stray cat that befriended him on the street
Never edits anything but still takes pretty decent photos because he understands basic composition rules
Never tags anything but will sometimes write simple captions like “new guitar”
His pfp has not changed since he made his account and its literally just the blandest selfie you’ve ever seen—but he’s effortlessly photogenic so even when he’s just staring at the camera with a blank expression he looks hot
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Xiao will unintentionally do his loyal boyfriend duties and like all of your posts but he never actually leaves a comment unless you specifically ask him to but you have to tell him what to say or else you’ll just get something like “your hair is nice” LOL
Maybe makes one post related to you but it doesn’t have your face—just picture of your hands holding each other or a photo he secretly took of you from behind as you admire some paintings from when he took you on an art gallery date
Still doesn’t write much in captions but if the post includes you, he always adds a little black heart emoji 🖤
Scaramouche // @ balladeer
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Vehemently claims he’s not chronically online but he definitely is
Def has a dark / emo aesthetic profile and puts more effort into it than he’d ever admit
Uses stories pretty frequently
Usually to show off his game stats and victories or to vent about some annoying inconvenience that's just happened to him
balladeer Jfc the train is late again I may as well just walk home everyday ffs
All his late night gaming photos are so highly saturated in his pitch black bedroom, the only source of light being his screen on max brightness and his violet RGB keyboard. If you raise the screen brightness on your phone you might be able to make out some empty Monster cans and ramen cups on his desk—he absolutely gives Discord / Reddit mod vibes 🤢
Definitely has a story archive just for Valorant 🤮
I wanna fuck him so bad it makes me look stupid—
Posts a few selfies to show a new piercing or the very rare occasion where he’s feeling really confident in his looks
unintentionally thirst traps the emo boy lovers; yes, I am talking about you and I—
Lightly edits photos or uses filters to make them look good but nothing extreme or super aesthetic, mostly just for decent contrast
Usually the first one to see any of his friends posts but never ‘likes’ them
Will leave snarky or sarcastic comments when the mood strikes tho
His pfp is a candid picture someone else took that he thinks he looks decent in—sticking his tongue out and giving double middle fingers to the camera
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Makes a post or story for every date you guys have, even if it’s just a vague picture of your shoes together
He likes to show off that he has such an attractive s/o but also lowkey just wants to have a memory to look back on for the nights he feels lonely
Doesn’t post just you though, he’s always in frame holding you or touching you in some way—he feels the need to put some sort of claim cause he thinks people are gonna shoot their shot with you—he’s kinda paranoid and insecure, pls have patience w him
Likes and comments on all of your posts. Sometimes it's a snarky quip like if you post about you and your friends doing something funny he might comment “lmao ur so dumb” but if its a selfie or something you’re proud of, he leaves a little compliment and heart emoji.
YN0103 [bedroom mirror selfie of you shyly posing in a dress]
YN0103 Bought a new dress today…it’s not my usual style but I rlly like it 🥺
balladeer cute 💜
If anyone ever confronts him in person about his nice comments on your posts tho he’ll get flustered and claim his account was temporarily hacked LOL
His heart def flutters when you post a picture of him on your own account
He kinda can’t believe you’re proud enough of him to publicly post about him
Changes his pfp to the two of you together and, if you zoom in and squint, you can tell he’s kind of smiling <3
Zhongli // @ rex_lapis
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
I’m sorry but I have to do it…
He has Facebook grandpa vibes
Like he has no idea how to use half of the features; stories are an absolute mystery to him. What is a reel?
But he tries to be supportive of his friends and will leave way-too eloquent comments with a Wikipedia levels of supplemental information
a1atus [ photo of a shiny Fender acoustic guitar laying on what seems to be a bed]
a1atus new guitar
rex_lapis Lovely new instrument, Xiao. You seem to have quite good tastes – that particular model is popular among many professional musicians. It is well renowned for its clear sound and beautiful mahogany exterior. If you wouldn’t mind, I would love to hear you play it someday over tea.
a1atus @ rex_lapis thanks
the way I cackled writing that exchange ygweyufgwyu Xiaos just like ‘thanks for commenting dad’
His pfp is not him—it’s probably a famous painting he likes or a beautiful white flower from a garden he visited
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
If you want him to improve his Insta game, you’re going to have to teach him, I’m sorry
On the up side, Zhongli is a great student and is eager to learn anything you teach him
Will try to post pretty regularly; usually somewhat mediocre photos of beautiful scenery like sunsets and flowers
Like Scaramouche, he enjoys the idea of documentary your time together so he posts something at the end of each of your dates
Your heart lowkey melts when Zhongli, very earnestly, asks after dinner if you’ll allow him to take a selfie with you to post on his Instagram
Regularly asks for feedback on his posts to ensure he’s properly taking your advice and improving :,)
He even starts organizing and naming story archives on his profile—simple titles like “tea,” “nature,” “friends,” and “my dearest”
Likes and comments on every single one of your posts and replies to all of your stories, even if he was there with you
Usually just lathers you in compliments on your beauty or tastes but they’re so thoughtfully written that it’s obvious he’s not “just saying it” and genuinely believes all the kind things about you he writes
YN1231 [photo of you twirling in a summer dress amidst a colorful of bed of flowers in a botanical garden, take by your friend]
YN1231 It’s finally starting to feel like spring! 🌸🌼🌺
rex_lapis While the camelias are lovely, they pale in comparison to your radiance. Your yellow sundress is also quite lovely and compliments your complexion in the morning sunlight. Truly a divine sight.
balladeer @ YN1231 @ rex_lapis ugh can you guys keep it in the DMs
- Changes his pfp to a selfie of himself smiling after you told him he should. The angle is a little odd but he’s so naturally attractive that he still manages to look good.
Ajax // @ tartaglia_on_top
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Doesn’t post too often but when he does, it kinda gives stereotypical frat boy
Like, lots of parties and shirtless beach photos with his friends
The surprise is the occasional posts of his little siblings and kids he volunteers with in between
He sometimes posts championship and practice photos from his martial arts competitions with captions thanking his team and mentors
Is pretty popular—has a few thousand followers, many are people he met just once or twice at parties or genuine friends and classmates, but the vast majority are online fans who just follow cause he’s hot LOL
Is the type of person you followed once after meeting a long time ago and never talk to again but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow cause he’s nice and his updates are kinda interesting and he’s hot
Isn’t online that much so he doesn’t like/comment on his friends’ every post but usually tries to leave congratulatory messages when someone accomplishes something or graduates
His pfp is a closeup of himself with a boyish grin he cropped from a group photo
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
It is super obvious when you guys start dating cause almost every post from that point is about you in some way LOL
tartaglia_on_top [photo of Ajax, sweaty and exhausted but clearly excited as he holds a trophy in one hand with the other wrapped around your waist while he presses a kiss to your cheek]
tartaglia_on_top Officially a 3 year championship winner! Thanks to my biggest supporter @ YN0720 😘
He’s not even consciously trying to post you all the time, it just happens because you are either always together or any memorable moment he thinks are worth an Insta post involve you in some way
You’re the only person, aside from his family - that he actually likes/comments on all posts for
Is the type of boyfriend to leave those super dramatic, embarrassing comments on your selfies like ���DAAAMN BABE 🥵 finna make me act UP” and, in one particularly shameless case, “god youre so hot pls step on me queen 😍”
Please block him
He shamelessly liked all your past posts from before you too met as well—you were kinda mortified to wake up one morning to a notification that just said “what a lil cutie ❤️” on a post of yourself from seventh grade.
Changes his pfp to a couple selfie he took of the two of you kissing on a winter vacation in the mountains
Kaveh // @ kaveh.designs
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Obsessed with having an aesthetic profile
Like, the color palette of the background and clothing in his pfp selfie are carefully matched with the cover of each of his story archives, down to the hex code
He carefully edits every post and uses filters to make them all fit with his theme no matter how inaccurate to real life they may become
“Huh…I thought your bedroom wall was a bit more orange than this…”
“Oh, that’s cause I use 30% Juno in all my bedroom photos for a warmer finish.”
“???”
Despite his aesthetic profile, he doesn’t come off as particularly vain or narcissistic—only posts selfies when he’s has a particularly good hair day or changed his accessories
Most of his posts are of places he travels to (museums and big cities with interesting architecture) or his own sketches and rendered design projects
Online pretty frequently, always checks insta when he wakes up, before bed, and during lunch breaks
His stories are often project updates, interesting things he encounters throughout the day, or food photos
Only likes posts he actually likes and sometimes comments with photography critiques
tighnar1 [photo of a cluster of three bright blue mushrooms clustered against vibrant green grass and patches of dark, wet soil]
tighnar1 Proof the forest is an amazing place: found this beautiful little cluster of juvenile Rakkhashava mushrooms on my hike today. Great spotting by @ colleeei. Check my story for some cool mushroom facts. 🍄
kaveh.designs great photo composition, Tigh, perfect golden ratio on the caps.
tighnar1 @ kaveh.designs Thanks I guess…
Has a decent number of followers, many of whom are also artists familiar with Kaveh’s reputation from the Kshahrewar. Others just like his OOTD stories and charming smile
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
Kaveh revamps his entire profile once you two become official
His pfp becomes a candid taken by a stranger of the two of you together at an aquarium, holding hands as you point something out to him through the glass
It was taken by a photographer working at the aquarium as part of a promotion—the photographer showed you two the photo and asked for permission to post it on their official website and Kaveh was absolutely obsessed with the photo—it’s still one of his favorite and it doesn’t even show your faces
He still matches his archived story covers to his new pfp but his actual feed had become a lot more relaxed and natural now
He still slightly edits photos so they look as good as possible, but he doesn’t like using filters on photos of you or the two of you together because he thinks it would be a disservice to your natural beauty
Like Ajax, his posts and stories naturally become mostly about you whether scenes from your dates—candid photos he takes of you where he insists you look like art even though you’re just in pajamas with an unmade face—or even photos of things he sees throughout the day that remind him of you
Sometimes he posts stories of funny reels or art pieces he knows you’d like and tags you in them with messages like “@YN0709 omg remember when we were talking abt this?” and “me & @ YN0709💕”
Similar to Childe, leaves the most downbad, dramatic comments on your posts
YN0709 [swimsuit selfie]
YN0709 happy summer! ☀️🌊
kaveh.designs Oh my god my heart– 💘 I cannot believe I get to come home to this every night 👅💦
YN0709 @ kaveh.designs omg kaveh pls 💀
al_haitham @ kaveh.designs Every time I see one of your comments I regret ever learning how to read.
Alhaitham // @ al_haitham
★ ★ pre-relationship ★ ★
Only made an account so his friends would stop bothering him about not keeping up with things tbh
Checks his feed a few times a day but skips through stories if they’re too long/too many
Absolutely hates concert stories the most cause they’d loud, long, and filled with off-key drunken singing
Never likes or comments on anything unless it’s really interesting to him
Occasionally shares reels in his story that are like interesting history facts or official Akademiya announcements
Has a few posts (and only cause Kaveh would not shut up about it) but they’re mostly just pictures of book covers he’d just finished reading with a detailed review or literary analysis as the caption—but he’s mindful of avoiding spoilers for those who haven’t read it
However, he does have one post that stands out quite a bit
He posted an unintentional gym third trap because he just happened to be working out, as is routine, and thought it might be nice to share some tips on proper rope pushdown form
If you’re not a gym babe and don’t know what this is, I beg of you, please look up a gif or video and imagine Alhaitham doing this, shirtless. You’re welcome.
It has become his most popular post by far
His pfp is probably taken straight from his faculty ID card: plain background, bright lighting, neutral facial expression
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
After you two have become official and are pretty comfortably established in your relationship, he’ll post a photo of the two of you—probably one you took - with a simple caption like “Late night at Puspa Café with my favorite person 💚”
Everyone who knows him freaks out in the comments with variations of “omg hathie got an s/o???” and “wow he finally posted a normal pic of himself, y/n is a good influence” but he doesn’t reply to any of them lmao
If you use Instagram a lot, he’ll naturally become more active too because he enjoys learning more about what you like through your posts and stories
He likes all of your posts but never comments—if one of your posts interests him, he’d prefer to wait until he sees you later to ask you about it in person
He just wants an excuse to talk to you more
As he becomes more active, little bits and pieces of your relationship naturally infiltrate his feed
His latest book review post has your favorite mug in the background because the two of you had breakfast together
His informational story post of an antique Sumerian emerald he found at a street vendor is being modeled by your pretty hands because you were with him when he saw it and later given to you after the vendor insisted on Alhaitham gifting it to his “beautiful spouse”
He changes his profile picture to the two of you from one of your many reading dates, comfortably lounging on a loveseat in a quiet corner of the library—and this time, he’s softly smiling
Tighnari // @ t1ghnar1
Surprisingly active on social media
He thinks social media is a great way to share information about the importance of forest conservation and get people to appreciate the beauty of Avidya forest
Makes one post almost every day and multiple stories
Needless to say, 90% of his posts are of plants or small animals he finds on his hikes or while working
His most popular posts are those of cute squirrels and birds that are being nursed back to health after being found wounded—animals just seem to naturally love him so the pictures are usually taken by his coworkers because his arms are full with cuddly animals that refuse to move
The other 10% of his posts are from the occasional hang outs with friends or coworkers after work—snaps of iced fruit teas from Puspa café or colorful clay plates overflowing with Collei’s homemade pita pockets.
He makes sure to reply to or at least like every comment, particularly those from people asking questions about the plants he posts or how to become a forest ranger. Even simple “wow that's so cool” comments often get at least a “thanks, glad you liked it” from Tighnari
He tends to use some cute forest or food emoji when they fit with his posts. For example, 🍄,🥙,🦊,🐦, etc.
Also tends to use “:)” when replying to his followers because he knows it can be difficult to read tone in text-based communications
Tigh is basically a social media manager at this point oops
Because he is online so much, he naturally keeps up with almost everything his friends post and will like or comment on things he finds interesting
His pfp is a selfie of himself with a small yellow bird perched on his shoulder from one of his patrols
★ ★ in a relationship ★ ★
All Tighnaris written by me WILL follow the “fennec foxes mate for life” trope regardless of AU, it is an indisputable law of the universe
If you’re in a relationship with Tighnari, you should be prepared for stability and commitment in general
While he doesn’t go out of his way to make an official announcement post or anything like that, you become a regular feature on his page
Will tag you in anything you’re related to, unless you specifically ask him not to
t1ghnar1 [photo of a small, cream-colored fox brushing itself against Tighnari’s leg and looking up at the camera with large eyes]
t1ghnar1 On a walk with @ YN1229 this morning we spotted this cute little kit without her mom. 🦊 While adorable, foxes - even kits - are wild animals and should never be approached unless by professionals. We have informed the local animal control where she will be taken care of until we can locate her family. Photo by @ YN1229
He never outright announces you as his lover but he seems to spend so much time with you and refer to you so casually that his followers who don’t know him just assume you’re his spouse LOL
He doesn’t bother to correct them either :,)
bennie_boy Wow, that mountain is so high up - wasn’t ur spouse scared to go up there?
t1ghnar1 @ bennie_boy Y/n has been on so many trips like this with me that they’re pretty used to it. :)
Likes your posts as he see them on his feed and occasionally leaves a short comment like, “beautiful <3”
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagine#genshin scenario#genshin hcs#tighnari x reader#scaramouch x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#ajax x reader#tartaglia x reader#kaveh x reader#alhaitham x reader#zhongli x reader#sm au#genshin sm au
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
thoughts on perv!hoshi 👉👈
18+ / mdi
content: perv!hoshi, f2l!hoshi, he has a huge crush on you, he's a tiny bit pathetic, some second hand embarrassment, panty sniffing, afab reader, smut, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1310
a/n: finally a hoshi request!!!!! everyone cheered
masterlist
"o-oh fuck, fuck! it's so good, so fucking good ..."
all that could be heard in the dark room was the slapping of skin accompanied by soonyoung's pathetic whimpers as he yet again engaged in such a shameful act.
he was unable to help himself despite knowing how incredibly ashamed he would be if you were to catch him in what had now become a daily endeavor.
soonyoung groaned and whimpered as he jerked himself off with a pair of used panties he had swiped from your room during his last visit, all while his eyes focused on the latest thirst trap you had posted on your close friends stories on instagram – okay, maybe it wasnt a thirst trap in itself, but your tiny little dress allowed him to see just enough skin to get him going.
was he embarrassed? beyond so. but his carnal needs could not be helped when his best friend happened to be the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on. you were the softest and most beautiful thing soonyoung had ever seen, but being your friend was entirely torturous.
as your best friend, soonyoung had to constantly hold back from letting his eyes wander into places they didnt belong. he had to restrict himself in being as touchy with you as he was with other friends, not wanting to risk the inevitable boner that would arise. and the worst of all? he had to jack off in the darkness of his room any time you facetimed him late at night when you were bored, growing far too horny at the sight of you in your skimpy pajamas, laid in bed all pretty for him.
yes, maybe restricting himself in such ways was dumb. maybe not confessing to you years back when he first met you was one of his biggest regrets. but it was too late now for him to ever get you to be his in the ways he wanted you to.
in a perfect world, he liked to imagine the day he'd finally grow the balls to walk into your life and sweep you off your feet, but for now he was stuck finding satisfaction in the form of some lacy panties and the pretty pictures lighting up his screen.
thats how the following few minutes went by as soonyoung edged himself, picturing your pretty eyes staring up at him as you jerked him off, sadistic in the way you'd coo at him any time you'd rob him of his orgasm.
oh, how badly he wanted you to mock him and torment him as he begged you to give him his release. there was nothing in this world he wouldn't do to get you to use him like a toy and steal all pleasure from him for your own selfish benefit. his biggest desire was for you to claim your high on his cock time and time again as he-
"soonie?"
soonyoung's movements halted immediately, somehow not having noticed the new source of light coming from the door you had just opened, peaking into his room as you got the perfect view of his shameful act – him in his underwear, one hand digging into his boxers while the other held your panties to his face, phone lying in front of him at full brightness as it displayed a photo of you.
there was no good way to explain this situation without incriminating himself further.
"y/n, i- it's not what- it's not what you think!" he scrambled to get himself presentable, throwing the phone to the side in hopes it evaporated somehow and letting your panties fall to the side of the bed. unfortunately, his cock still remained tall and proud under his boxers as his hands attempted to cover the sight from you.
you hesitantly stepped further into the room, closing his door behind you as you stared intently at him, no readable expression in your face.
"i swear, this isnt as bad as it looks, i- i was just, uh, fuck. this is the first time i ever do this, okay? i wouldnt- i would never want to make you feel uncomfortable or disrespected or-"
his nonsensical rambles seemed to finally come to and end when you decidedly started marching towards him, putting your hands on his cheeks to press your lips against his own in a rather aggressive kiss.
soonyoung, still extremely horny and never one to turn down a good time, wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you onto the bed, causing you to naturally straddle him as the two of you made out.
his pathetic whimpers filled the room as your tongue invaded his mouth, fighting and suckling his own. your hips began moving against his own the moment you felt his boner pressing up against your crotch.
oh, fuck. how was he supposed to survive against you like this? how, when you were grinding against him so sensually and letting him get his fill of your body as his hands explored and squeezed at every delicious curve?
soonyoung was a gone man already, but he absolutely lost his mind when you disconnected from him, throwing off the boy shorts and tank too you had been wearing – had you come over in your pajamas? – before helping him rid himself of his boxers. without warning, you sat on him, throwing your head back as he filled you up.
wordlessly, you bounced on him, rendering soonyoung completely powerless under you as he did not dare question your sudden appearance nor your sudden thirst for him. he would take whatever you have him with no question.
"soo- soonie, fuck. so fucking pretty ... is this what you wanted? huh? wanted me bouncing on you like this, baby?"
you patronized him continuously as you rode him, knowing he was too drunk on bliss to form a coherent response. your hands explored his body, pulling at his nipples and scratching at his chest in order to optimize the cries he let out for you.
his orgasm came embarrassingly fast, but to be fair, he had had a head start before your sudden arrival. luckily for him, your hand had gone down to play with your clit halfway through your fucking, making your high arrive just on time with his own.
"s-so good, fuck. it's so good ... such a good pussy, fuck. always wanted this p-pussy ... my perfect fucking pussy ..." he whimpered, pressing his head against the bed as he writhed under you.
when it was all said and done, you laid yourself on his chest, not taking him out as you enjoyed the fullness be provided. your lips found his chest, pressing loving kisses against it as he sighed in contentment.
"does this mean-"
"you're far too obvious, soonie," you giggled, "you've stolen five pairs of panties and never given them back. plus, i got a notification when you took a screenshot of my story."
"oh, ah, i-"
"i didnt think id catch you in the act, but i thought id catch you off guard, and man, did i ever," you laughed (at him or with him, he wasnt sure).
"so ... you're not mad?", he turned the two of you around, making you lay beside him as he held you in his arms, dick still plunged inside you.
"no, soonie. i have to admit ... it was kinda hot how much you wanted me," a small blush made its way to your cheeks, not too noticeable for the naked eye, but soonyoung was an expert in all things you, so he caught sight of it.
"oh?", he grinned, "you know that means i'm just gonna keep stealing your panties, right?"
slapping his chest in jest, you leaned up to kiss his lips, whispering against them, "why steal my panties when you can have the real thing?"
oh, fuck.
thank god you arrived unannounced.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen#svt#seventeen oneshot#seventeen smut#svt smut#hoshi smut#hoshi fanfic#hoshi x reader#hoshi scenarios#hoshi imagines#soonyoung smut#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung fanfic#soonyoung scenarios
579 notes
·
View notes
Text
strangerprompts: turn back time |eddie munson x reader|
prompt: #8 you step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.
from strangerprompts writing challenge made by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing <3 this was so fun!!! please check it out and consider writing for yourself!
warnings: language. time travel. but nothing crazy.
“It should be illegal.” You huff, nails digging into the leather of your steering wheel. The GPS shouted at you another robotic turn, drumming out the sound of your roommate on the other line.
“I mean, seriously? Making me travel alone to- to the middle of nowhere. Ro, I’m not even kidding, it looks like the town Deliverance was filmed in. It’s the middle of nowhere.” You scoff, looking at the rundown building passing by you, all crumbling with desperate need of a renovation.
“No, it can’t be Deliverance. They didn’t have hotels there.” Roslyn snicker floated through your car’s speakers. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”
“It is.” You grumbled. “And then they want us to meet at this bar for mingling. I don’t even know if I’m going to the right place!” You threw your hands up, smacking them on the steering wheel dramatically, turning it as the GPS announced you’d arrived.
The Hideout- or at least, that’s what you could make out from the peeling sign above the building. “Jesus Christ, I’m getting murdered.” You muttered, sending Ro howling in laughter. “I’m not even joking. I’m about to be a topic on a fucking podcast.”
“Stop.” Roslyn wheezed through laughter. “You’re not gonna get murdered.”
“I don’t- This place doesn’t even look open.” You exhaled sharply, flicking through your phone, ensuring this was the right place. “Ro, you have to swear to me if I get murdered, you’ll make sure the true crime freaks won’t make Etsy merch about me.”
“Calm down,” Ro laughed. “You’re not gonna get murdered. It’s just not the hipster ass bars you’re used to.”
“No,” You muttered, locking your door quickly, clutching your purse to your side. “I really might. Stay on the phone with me.”
“What?” Roslyn’s voice broke through the static. “I can’t- You’re cutting ou-”
“Fuck.” You hissed, looking down at your phone as you climbed the stairs. Call Failed flashing back at you, no bars to be found.
Turn around, get back in your car, and say fuck it. You do not need this job this bad.
Yes, you actually do.
A painful reminder of your maxed credit card, student loans, and rent flashed before your eyes, silencing your bitter thoughts. Sliding your phone into your purse, you clung to the strap tightly.
“Just stay fifteen minutes, then say you feel sick.” You muttered to yourself, reaching for the rusted handle.
The entryway was dark, eerily quiet to be a bar. You almost thought it wasn’t one, if it wasn’t for the bright neon sign shining at the end. Welcome! Glowing in blinding red letters, underneath it in blue, the piercing glow that read: Stay A While.
“So weird.” You muttered, your arms wrapping around yourself.
The air turned colder with every step you took, following the bright signs- the only source of light, down the dark hallway. Your heart hammered in your ears, clutching your purse close to you. Just as you were about to panic, chest swelling with fear, veins icy as the air- you heard it.
A muffled roar of an electric guitar, a tiny sliver of golden light peering beneath the heavy door. You pushed the door open, met with a sudden wave of warmth, the dim lights of the bar blinding you still.
“Watch it, sweetheart.” A man with a tray of beers muttered, swiveling past you.
“Sorry,” You squeaked, looking around the crowded dive bar. You scanned the packed tables for anyone from the conference, shimmying in between tables, peering over teased hair for anyone.
“Fuck me,” You huffed, settling at a sticky bar booth, still littered with half drank beers and peanuts- the only one available. “No way I’m the first one.”
You plopped your purse on to the seat of the booth, an iron grip still on the strap. You could feel the cutting glances still cast on you from the others, they’d had followed you from the moment you walked in. Judgemental, all accompanied with a lifted brow.
Should look in the mirror, You thought bitterly, rummaging through your purse. They’re the ones wearing that outdated, ugly shit.
“Where the fuck- I know I put it in here.” You muttered, taking out the wrappers, your wallet, desperately trying to find your phone.
“‘Scuse me,” You jumped, eyes wide when you looked up, clutching your purse to your chest.
Dark eyes met yours, a dimpled smile joining them. “Sorry,” The man lifted his hand carefully, the other balancing a black bucket stacked with glasses. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if it was ok if I clear this outta the way for you?”
“Y-Yeah, sorry.” You muttered bashfully. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”
A ringed hand passed in front of you, the light catching in the skull before it grabbed a glass. You moved back to your purse, furiously checking each pocket, chest growing tighter and tighter with fear.
“You alright?” The busboy asked, swiping another glass, stacking it into the bucket with a soft rattling clank.
“Yeah- I mean, not really.” You turned, head craning towards the door. “I think I lost my phone in that hallway.”
“Hallway?” He laughed, his name tag flashing towards you- Eddie, decorated with sharpie drawn bats and devil horns. “Phone’s on the wall over there.” Eddie nodded towards the bar, an old dial up phone mounted there, a sign that the charge is a quarter above it.
Your brows creased. You didn’t even know those things worked, you always assumed they were decoration for the… edgy aesthetic of the place.
“No, I mean my cell phone.” You shook your head lightly. “I think I dropped it in that hallway back there.” You pointed towards the swinging door.
Eddie frowned at you, stilling as his eyes scanned your features. “Are you- Are you feeling ok?” He asked.
“What?” You snapped defensively.
“Did someone slip something in your drink or something?” Eddie asked carefully. “Gotta be careful with those old guys. They look harmless but they’re gnarly-”
“-What? No.” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I haven’t even had a drink. I just got here. I’m supposed to meet some people from a conference, but I can’t find my phone-”
“-Your phone?” Eddie’s nose crinkled in confusion.
“Yes. My phone.” You barked in irritation. “My cell phone?”
Eddie blinked at you. “What is that European?” He shrugged.
“What? Are you fucking with me-”
“-No,” Eddie held his hands up. “No, I just- I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He laughed nervously. “And I mean you’re dressed… different. Not that it’s bad!” He added frantically.
“I just assumed you were European or something. Not from here anyways.” Eddie muttered, leaning against the table.
You blinked. It felt like you were in a dream, like everything you were saying was mute, confusing, in Wonderland and entirely discombobulated.
“You… You don’t have cell phones here?” You asked slowly.
Eddie shook his head, curls bouncing. “Nope. Not here, sweetheart. Hasn’t made its way to Hawkins, Indiana yet, but sounds pretty-”
“-What?” You hissed, chest booming with a fear filled ache, sure your heart had stopped entirely. “What did you just say?”
Eddie’s face fell, his flirtatious grin disappearing. “Hawkins? Indiana?” He said slowly, eyes narrowing when your face paled. “Hey, are you ok? Did you take something?”
“N-No, I-I don’t- I d-didn’t-”
“-Look,” Eddie slid into the booth beside you. “You’re not gonna scare me off if you did somethin’, alright? I’m not nearly as conservative as these other bogus losers.”
You couldn’t speak, mouth dry, heart caught in your throat, hammering away so fiercely your ears were ringing. “What’d you take? Blow? K? Pills or somethin’?” His arm brushed yours, head ducking towards you. “It’s fine, whatever it is, I’m- I’m really good with dealing with this sorta thing, if you can believe it.”
“I-I didn’t take anything.” You droned, nearly automated. “I just- I-I was walking down the hallway, and-”
“-Hey, I’m just trying to help you.” Eddie said softly, his tone pulling your attention back to meet his gaze. “Did you hit your head?”
“N-No, I- The hallway-”
“-That,” Eddie pointed towards the swinging door. “Is a bathroom.” You watched as the door swung open, as if on cue, a girl with blue painted lids and crimped hair piled high stepping out.
“The closest thing to a hallway here is to the dumpster out back.” Eddie grinned at you softly. It was sweet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile back, body trembling with fear.
Eddie felt it, frowning at you softly. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? Call someone for you?”
“No,” You swallowed hard. “I-I need to leave. I have-I gotta get out of here.” Panic rose through your chest, trying to push him out of the booth, climb over him, anything.
“Hey, easy,” Eddie slid out of your way. “Hang on-” You ignored him, pushing past him towards the door.
Outside, the sun was still just beginning to set, that was the only thing that was the same.
Your car was gone, in its place a line of cars- old cars, but still shiny? Still new, not rusted with wear or dulled colors from age. The buildings were no longer crumbling, signs still new and displayed proudly.
“No, no, no, no.” Your chest heaved, fingers threading through your hair. “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck is going on?”
“Hey!” Eddie grabbed your shoulder, pulling your attention towards him. “Hey, I-I don’t think you should be driving-”
“-My car.” You gasped. “Where the fuck is my car? I-It was right here,” You turned, throwing your hands out. “Right here!”
Eddie looked around, a blush rising to his cheeks at the judgy looks the passersby were giving. “Maybe you should come back inside-”
“-No.” You barked, shaking your head furiously. “No. I-I’m not-” Through the window, a glimmer of a photo caught your eye.
Your walk back inside felt nearly trance like, everything underwater, Eddie’s voice droning out with the others. A painting of two cartoonized children waving fistfuls of flowers gleefully- though that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the printed lettering underneath it that made your blood run cold.
“Hey, why don’t you take a seat, an-and I’ll call someone-”
“-Is this,” You swallowed, pointing at the wall. “This isn’t right, r-right? Thi-This isn’t- There’s no way.”
Eddie frowned, looking at the wall. “I mean, yeah, it needs to be changed now. I guess it’s technically May now, Mick just hasn’t gotten around to flipping it-”
“-No, this-this says…” Your finger traced the numbers, glaring at you in bright red. “1986?” You squeaked.
Eddie blinked at you. “Yeah,” He nodded slowly.
Your vision filled with dark splotches, fading in and out of focus on the calendar in front of you. Your knees buckled, purse slipping between your fingers before you fell limply, Eddie’s frantic voice ringing in your ears the last thing you heard before your consciousness slipped.
#strangerprompts#oneforthemunny#munnytalks#eddie x fem!reader#eddie stranger things#eddie my love <3#eddie x reader#eddie munson#writing challenge#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson au#eddie munson au#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader angst#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader
423 notes
·
View notes
Text
(What's The) Hot Topic?
HotTopicWorker!Gyu x Fem!Reader, Strangers to Lovers(?), Suggestive!
♡ Summary: In search for a birthday gift for your friend, you stop by your local Hot Topic where you stick out like a sore thumb. A certain employee sees a pretty girl in need of his assistance, so who is Beomgyu to say no? (In which emo gyu takes a liking to the girl dressed in delicate ribbons and bows.)
♡ Warnings: Things move a little fast here, makeout with a stranger, cursing, reader gets called fem nicknames, etcccc not proofread!
♡ A/N: ty for the request! I got so motivated to write this I hopped on my pc so quick LMAO (this user loves oreo beomgyu with a passion n will do anything to write for him) so more coquette x txt !!!! lmk if u guys want me to do other members too! Hope u enjoy~
The mall was quieter than usual today. A perfect time for you to show up in your cute heeled boots and winter coat, perfectly lined with white fur and ribbons. The sound of your shoes clicking mixing in with the atmosphere of the mall. You found your way to the store you were looking for. As you stood in front you stared at your phone with furrowed eyebrows. How were you supposed to find Yeonjun’s gift again?
You walked in with eyes glued to your text messages. Nirvana, yes. You wanted a Nirvana shirt for your good friend Yeonjun’s birthday. Easy right? Or maybe he wouldn’t like that? It was hard to figure out what he had and what he didn’t have in his collection.
You bit your lip as you looked at the t-shirt section in the back of the dark store. You could practically feel the stare of another shopper which made your uneasiness grow.
Though you couldn’t blame them, you sort of stood out like a sore thumb. Pretty pearled headband with light ribbons tied, and a purse in the same color to match. Your whole outfit screamed sweet pastels and spring while you stood next to the bloody horror movie merchandise.
You sighed in relief as you saw the previously mentioned customer get helped by an employee. Yet to your luck, you were left standing waiting like a lost deer. Maybe you should’ve just ordered something online–
“Hey there, has anyone helped you yet?”
You turn to see a taller figure standing by you, his black long hair chopped into a wolf cut with platinum blonde highlights to further highlight his pale skin. He was a guy your age for sure, and he had quite an eccentric appearance. Which made him even more attractive.
“Hi! Um yes sorry, I do need help with something if you don’t mind? I’m looking for a gift for a friend. I don’t really have the same style so..” you trailed off, noticing how his eyes look over your figure, a tinge of pink blooming on his ears.
“Sure thing. Just tell me what kind of stuff your friend likes and I can help you, pretty girl. Name’s Beomgyu.” he grinned. You felt your heart nearly stop as you choked out an “Ah! I’m y/n.. th- thanks..” and proceeded to show him Yeonjun’s list of favorite artists and demands for his birthday.
“Hm. I think I have the perfect thing for him. Follow me please.” you watch him swiftly turn around as he walks deeper into the back of the store… into the employees-only room?
You stood there dumbfounded, were you supposed to go in there too? Was this a normal thing for Hot Topic? You hardly came to the store but you swear the employees-only room should be for.. Well, employees only.
“Don’t worry doll, you can come back here.” He chuckles as he watches your big eyes scan around nervously. You nod and walk in with him, the door closing behind you.
The room was dim, a single light bulb being the only source of light for the two of you. It wasn't too large of a room, with an employee bathroom towards the end of it, a desk with a computer sitting in the corner, and tons of shelves filled with extra merchandise waiting to be set up.
Beomgyu hummed as he dug through the boxes with various artists’ names labeled on them. The room was quiet and the atmosphere felt thick. You played with the ribbons on your soft coat as you waited for him to find what he was looking for.
“I have a question for you. You ever visit this store?” Beomgyu asked as he dug further, you tilted your head at the question. Was he trying to say something..?
“Yes.. but I’m not really a common customer..” You nervously laugh and Beomgyu stands up with a set of items in his hands. “Mhm, I figured. No offense, but you really stick out in here. That dumbass was staring at you like you were a zoo animal.” He laughed.
“Though I mean that with no offense- I wouldn’t blame him. You’re a pretty girl y’know?” He smiled as he handed you the merch in his hands. Your face flushed at the compliment. “Ah, thank you. You’re really kind.” You smile.
Neither of you move.
You’re looking at the floor, you really want to say something more. Ask him for his number, tell him he’s attractive as hell, or that you want to just stay in here a little longer. Alone with him.
Suddenly, you feel a hand stroke a strand of your hair. You look up to see Beomgyu admiring your soft locks with gentle eyes. “Such a pretty girl.. You have a boyfriend?” He tilts his head, lips forming a smirk with tongue in cheek.
You could almost pass out. Your eyes were locked on Beomgyu’s expression, his face scanning yours as he waited for your response. You could tell he was taking his time analyzing your features.
You felt yourself shudder under his intense stare, you shook your head. “No actually.. I don’t..” Beomgyu’s smile widened. “Really? An angel like you? Surely I’m not your type though, someone like me with a angel like you?”
“Well..” You looked away, staring at Yeonjun’s present that was still in your hands. He did have a point. You were just a sweet little thing, dressed in bows and frills, while Beomgyu wore ripped jeans and dark shirts with multiple band pins, all while sporting multiple bandaids from his skating endeavors. “I could say the same about you…Beomgyu.”
His name sounded like candy coming from your glossy pink lips. He just had to hear you say it more.
Beomgyu decides he’s had enough and closes the gap between you, pulling you in for a kiss.
His lips are warm and soft, leaving you craving for more. His hands snake their way around your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer. You find yourself tilting your head, deepening the kiss and he groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him.
“Wanna hear you say my name..” he mumbles against your lips and your mind is growing fuzzy. “B- Beomgyu..” you whisper and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth the second you say his name. You spend minutes like this, his hands roaming your warm and soft coat, your fingers tracing the choker on his neck. Yeonjun’s gifts long forgotten on the ground.
When you both finally separate for air, Beomgyu presses his forehead against yours, admiring the way your eyes have darkened, pretty lashes glistening in the dim room’s light.
“I get off in an hour babydoll. You want my number?” You find yourself nodding profusely and he smirks. “I’ll see you when I get off then.”
“Promise?” You tilt your head cutely, voice soft and sweet like cotton candy, and he feels himself drawn more to you by the second. You separate from each other's arms and he helps you pick up your items. After all, you still had to head to check out. “I prom-”
The door swings open as Beomgyu’s coworker walks in. “Beomgyu! What are you doing? There’s like two customers out there and- oh what-” The slightly taller male who’s nametag read Soobin tilts his head in confusion. His brows knit together as he sees your slightly disheveled hair and Beomgyu’s face smeared in your pink lipgloss.
“Oh my- get the fuck out of here! Jesus man, it makes sense for Taehyun to pull something like this but you?” he groans as Beomgyu’s shit-eating grin moves him to the side, walking out with your wrist in his hand, guiding you to the counter to pay.
#binniebakeryorders#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt fluff#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu fluff#txt x reader#txt x y/n#beomgyu x y/n#BakeryTreat♡
476 notes
·
View notes
Text
When you’re home
A request by @shauna-carsley ☺️
Summary: She always texts or calls him when she’s home safe. But when she doesn’t, Evan gets worried. Until he goes on a call and meets her there. But not in the way Evan hoped to see her.
9-1-1 Masterlist
………………………………………………………………………………
“Yes, I did bought you cocoa powder like you asked me to. But you do realise it’s a little bit too hot outside to be drinking hot chocolate right?” (Y/n) said as she walked through the exit of the grocery store. Her phone was in her right hand, holding it to her ear. While a paper sack filled with groceries was resting between her body and her left arm.
Evan chuckled through the phone at her words. “Yeah I know. It’s not for hot chocolate though.” He answered her question. A confused frown appeared on her face as she continued to walk down the street. “Well.. Are you gonna tell me why you made me buy it?” She asked him. “Hmm. You know what? No, you’ll see it for yourself tonight.” Evan’s voice answered back. “Wh-“ As (y/n) wanted to react at what Evan told her, she hears a loud alarm through the phone. “Oh, shit. Gotta go. What did you want to say?” his voice sounded through the phone.
A soft chuckle left her mouth as she shook her head at Evan’s sudden rush in his voice. Somehow, whenever Evan was on shift and called with (Y/n) on the phone, the alarm would go off.
“Nothing, just.. be careful, and I love you.”
A smile appeared on Evan’s face when she said those exact words. It made his heart melt right on the spot, just like it did when she said it the first time about 10 years ago. They met when they went to high school together. In senior year, to be exact.
As Evan wants to say something to end the call, he hears a familiar voice calling his name. “Buck! Quit chit chatting with my sister, we’ve got to go!” Eddie’s voice sounded through the station. “Yeah, yeah! I’m coming Diaz!” He yells back at his best friend. He hears (Y/n)’s giggle through the speaker of his phone which he was holding against his ear. He sighs.
“I love you too. I’ll see you tonight. Text me when you’re home, okay?” Evan says. He always wanted to make sure that she’d get home safe. Even if it was just a small text that contained an emoji of a house, or the exact words, or just a phone call. “Hmm, I will... be safe out there.” and with those words she clicked on the red button to end the phone call.
(Y/n) locked her phone again and put it into the small shoulder bag she had with her. It couldn’t hold much, but held the necessary things such as her: phone, wallet and keys. That was enough. She readjusted the weight she was holding between her body and her left arm, and switched it to her right arm. That was the arm that had more strength and endurance.
She continues her way home, which was maybe fifteen to twenty minutes away. She passes by street after street in the LA weather. (Y/n) comes to a stop when she clicks the button to turn the pedestrian traffic light to green. She waits for a few seconds, but when the lights jumps from red to green, she steps with her feet on the asphalt and starts walking towards the other end of the pedestrian crossing.
She hears the sound of squealing tires coming from not too far from her. Her head shot towards her right, as she sees the source of the sound turning around the corner with a rapidity definitely above the speed limit. The car was swinging from the left to the right like it was possessed. (Y/n) has no time to react to what is happening.
But before she knew it, the bag with groceries was blown out of her right arm and she was facing the blue sky.
Her ears are ringing. An annoying high frequency noise is ringing through her ears. (Y/n)’s vision was blurry and partly overexposed. It was like someone was shining a flashlight in her face, and wouldn’t turn it off. She could hear muffled voices, but she couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying. It was like her ears were underwater. Her head felt like it was beating out of her skin.
She squeezes her eyes shut to try and let her eyes get used to the bright light. But it wouldn’t stop. Until a figure starts hoovering over her body.
Evan hopped down the steps of the truck following Eddie out. His mouth left a sigh, as he shrugged off his florescent jacket and hang it underneath his last name. Before he could let go of his jacket, the loud alarm rang again through the firehouse. His eyes closed as he sighs again. “Ah come on!” he says with a defeated look. He just wanted to take a shower. He felt dirty, his body was sweating, his face was full with ashes from last call.
He could hear Eddie laughing at his reaction. “Okay who said the Q-word?” Evan says as he looks at every person around him now. They didn’t answer, they just put on their jackets and hopped back into the truck. Evan sighs as he rips his florescent jacket from the hook and also took place in the truck.
The drive was quiet. Everyone was tired from last call, they wanted to eat, drink and relax for a bit. “Somebody must have said the Q-word. Otherwise this would not have happened.” Evan says, still sure of his conclusion. Nobody reacted to his words, Evan looked around him in the back of the truck. Waiting for someone to respond to him. “Ravi.” Is the only thing what left Eddie’s mouth. “Yeah I know right! It must’ve been him! I told hi-“ Evan reacts. “No. Ravi.” Eddie cuts him off as he points outside the window.
When the truck came to a stop, they immediately left the rig. Evan saw Ravi walking towards Bobby. “Buck, Eddie, stand by. Hen and Chim follow me.” Bobby ordered. Eddie and Evan had to stay back because if they needed equipment, it was faster. Instead of them running back and forth.
Evan in the meanwhile had now time to check his phone. He let his back fall against the truck as he grabs his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks his screen to take a look at his notifications. “Hmm” he made a think-full noise. Eddie lets himself fall with his back against the truck too. “What’s up?” Eddie asked when he heard Evan’s confused sound. “Before our last call, I was calling with (Y/n).” Evan started. “Yes.. and?” Eddie answered with a confused look projected on his face. “I always tell her to text me when she gets home. But it has been.. what?.. One hour since we called and she still hasn’t texted me.” He tells with a worried voice. “Maybe she went to another store? Or simply forgot.” Eddie tries to calm him down before he makes any other conclusions like the Q-word from a few minutes ago. “Eddie, Buck, I need a backboard and another medic bag here.” He hears Bobby’s voice through the radio. “Copy that cap.” Eddie answered Bobby through his radio, and he patted his hand on Evan’s shoulder.
He nodded. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe Evan was just seeing things that weren’t there. He clicks on the on/off button to lock his phone again and let it slide back into his pocket. He opens the compartment to slide out the backboard while Eddie gets the medic bag. As suddenly Bobby is walking towards Buck and Eddie.
“Something wrong cap? Do you need anything?” Buck asks, while he closes the compartment. “I think you both may want to sit this one out.” Is the only thing Bobby says. A confused look spreads over Evan’s and Eddie’s face. Bobby never said that to him. The only time he said that was when he got back from revalidation, after the fire truck accident. Evan and Eddie look at each other, asking each other without any words what the hell was going on. “Uhm.. why?” Evan asks Bobby. As he looks to his side to try and peek at the scene. “You both are too personal involved at this call, I’m just trying to look out for you.” Bobby says.
Too personal involved? What did that mean? Who was close to Eddie and him? The question was ringing through Evan’s head while Eddie was talking with Bobby now. Until it hit him. Literally a minute ago he was talking about his girlfriend, his guts were telling him something wasn’t right.
Shit.
Bobby ends the conversation with both Eddie and Evan and turns to walk away. When Evan stops him in his movement by grabbing his arm. “Is it (Y/n)?” Evan asks with a trembling voice as he lets go of his captains arm. Bobby’s eyes shot from Eddie to Evan. And softly nodded his head. “Yes. It’s (Y/n).” He confirms.
Evan felt like the world was suddenly on fire and broke down piece, by piece.
Evan grabbed the backboard he had already out and put it underneath his arm. “Too personal involved my ass.” Evan’s voice spoke as he passed Bobby and ran as fast as he could with the backboard he was carrying. As he comes closer, and closer. He recognises the dress out of a thousand. It was the dress (y/n) wore this morning when he left the house to go on shift this exact morning. It’s the dress she wore on their date night two weeks ago. The green dress that made him go crazy. But that green dress was now partly underneath a car. Her groceries were spread over the whole scene. He was sure he passed by a package of cocoa in his speed.
Evan drops the backboard he was carrying when he was close enough to his girlfriend. She was sobbing. Chimney was sitting at her side, while Hen was in the car dealing with the driver. Evan kneeled down on the ground next to the side of (Y/n). “Hey.. hey, I’m here. I’m with you.” Evan says as he grabs her free hand. “Buck?” She cries. She has a neck brace around her neck. “I’m here baby.” He says softly as he brings his mouth towards her hand and plants a kiss on it. He was panicking. “You’re gonna be okay.” He reassured her.
The driver was already evacuated from his car. “Vitals are trembling downwards” Chimney says as he rips his stethoscope from his ears. “Alright, let’s get her out from underneath the car. Get her on the backboard and transported right now!” Bobby orders his crew. Evan grabbed the backboard he had dropped beside him just a minute ago. And put it down right above her head, so they could slide her from underneath the car on the backboard in one smooth movement. “Ready? On three. One.. two… three.” And with that she was on the backboard. The puddle of blood from her head was still lying on the asphalt.
One more time they counted down to three as they pulled up the backboard and put (y/n) on the gurney. The gurney gets pushed into the back of the ambulance.
(Y/n)’s eyes starts rolling as she goes unconscious. “We’re losing her! We’ve got to intubate her.” Eddie says as he rips off his stethoscope. Chimney stops Eddie from getting a tube out of one of the compartments. “When you put that tube in, there’s a chance it will never come back out.” Chimney warns Eddie, it was his sister after all. Eddie looks at Evan, waiting for his answer. Evan closes his eyes for one millisecond. As he nods in agreement to intubate her, he knew that if they waited any longer, he’d lose her. “I’m going with her.” Evan says as he joined Eddie in the back of the ambulance, and the backdoors closed.
_________
Waiting, waiting, and more waiting. Evan feels like he is going crazy. Eddie and Evan have been here for hours, drinking the grossest hospital coffee to stay awake. The rest of the 118 stops by every now and then, with food and drinks.
“(Y/n) Diaz?” A doctor calls through the waiting room. Eddie and Evan both stand up, and walk towards the doctor. “Follow me please.” The female doctor says as she walks through the hall way. This was weird. This has never happened before. Normally they would tell the family the results in the waiting room. Something wasn’t right. “Take a seat.” she says as she points at the two chairs in front of what Evan assumed to be her desk. Both of them take place, as Evan’s heartbeat started to fasten. The doctor sat down in her office chair and flipped open the folder with documents. She shortly introduces herself to the two men, as she continues to bring the news of (y/n). “Due to the accident, mrs Diaz suffered a severe head trauma, together with a broken left leg and a possible spinal injury.” the doctor says. Both Eddie and Evan are silent. Evan’s heart starts pounding like it was trying to leave his chest. And he starts tapping his feet at the ground in a fast rhythm. “Im sorry I don’t have any better news than this now.” She continued as she tries to fill the silence in the room. Evan sighs as he tries to calm himself down. He was scared.
“Okay but.. how is she doing? Is she awake?” Eddie asks the doctor. The doctor is looking down at the documents. “We’ve worked on her left leg, she has now pins and screws helping to heal the bones in her leg. Due to her spinal injury, I’m afraid she may suffer paralysis to the lower body.. I can’t say if this is temporary or permanent. As for your question if she’s awake, I’m afraid she’s not. She’s in a coma, because of the head injury, and she’s also still intubated.” The doctor explains the situation.
It felt for Evan like the world was falling apart. At this moment, everything that was being said turned into muffled sounds. The kind of sounds you’d hear if you were falling a sleep. “How did this even happen?” Eddie asked the doctor. “We did a few tests on the driver, and it turned out he was under the influence of alcohol.” Evan looked up at the doctor, but he doesn’t say anything. A thousand different emotions are projected on his face and rushing through his veins. His heart tightened in his chest at the words that just came out of the doctor’s mouth. Evan could hear his breathing become more and more rapid. He could still hear how Eddie and the doctor were talking, discussing some things.
But for Evan it’s becoming all too much. He has the feeling that he needs to leave the room. Right. Fucking. now. In one fast movement he stands up and storms out of the room. He hears how the door slams shut behind him, as he grabs his chest to try and calm himself down. He walks down the hall and slams with his fist on the first wall he sees. Tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
He lets his back fall against the wall and let himself slide downward. He closes his arms around his knees, as tears rolls down his cheeks. He sobs. He couldn’t believe how his world got turned upside down in a flash.
“I think it’s better for you if you take a break, Buck.” Eddie told Evan. He hasn’t left the room since he came in this morning. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder, and gave him a soft squeeze. Evan knew Eddie was just looking out for him, so he knew it was best to not go against Eddie. Evan just nods, leaves a soft kiss on (y/n)’s hand and patted Eddie on his shoulder before he left the room.
“Hey sis..” he starts, as he takes place on the chair where Evan was sitting just a few seconds ago. He sighs. “Mi dios, I don’t even know what to say..” he continued. He lays his right hand on hers, which was connected with the IV tube. He lets his eyes wander over her bruised body and the tube that was in her mouth. He sighs at the sight of it. “It breaks my heart, seeing you like this..” he goes on after a minute of silence. It was his little sister, lying in the hospital bed. He was closest to (y/n) than to any of his other sisters. He could tell her everything.
Eddie takes a look behind him and sees how Evan is standing in front of the window with his back towards the room. Eddie could sense that Evan was struggling with himself, he didn’t know how to act or how to feel.
“You know how Buck is with emotions. But I can see he’s reaching his breaking point.” He says as he turns back towards (y/n). The beeps and other sounds make Eddie feel sick. It felt like Eddie was reliving everything what happened with Shannon all over again. “I can tell you, it’s not just Buck who’s reaching his breaking point.. I’m trying to stay strong for you and for Chris.. but the truth is, I don’t know how much longer I can do this (y/n).” Eddie continues. His voice is breaking, sounding like he could burst out in tears with a snap of his fingers.
It has been a week since the accident, both Evan and Eddie were here for as long as they could each day. Eddie still had Chris to look after, but luckily his Abuela was there whenever he needed her. Chris went on and on asking about his aunt (Y/n), where she was, how she was doing.. But every single time Chris would mention her, Eddie could feel his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t want to worry Chris. So he just told him that she was busy.
“Please.. I need you to fight. Fight to come back to us. Because.. I don’t know if I can survive another loss. Especially if it’s you.” He tries to wipe away his tears with his left hand, while he squeezes hers with his right hand. “Buck can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Not like this..” he cries. He couldn’t stop his tears.
He cried until there weren’t any tears left to cry, Eddie is still sitting in the chair. His left elbow leaning on his left knee to give him some support, as his right hand still remained on her hand. Eddie was just looking at his feet, thinking about all different kind of scenarios of what could happen. Eddie flinched as someone touches his shoulder. It was Evan with two cardboard to go cups in his hands. “Here..” Evan says as he holds out the cardboard cup towards Eddie. “Thanks.” He says as he accepts the cup from Evan with his left hand, and puts it on the small table next to the chair he was sitting on.
As suddenly the fingers of her left hand he was holding, started to move. He could feel the small movements underneath the palm of his hand. Slowly he moved his head, so he could look at her hand. Her fingers were definitely moving. His eyes shot towards her face. Eddie stood up from his chair as he took place next to the side of her bed. “Eddie? What’s wrong?” Evan’s voice said when he puts his coffee down on the same small table. Evan took place next to the other side of the bed.
“She moved..” Eddie says, not really knowing if this was real or not. “Wait. what?” Evan reacts as he looks at Eddie. “She moved her fingers Buck. Look.” Eddie says as he removes his hand off hers. Evan takes a look at her hand, he could see her fingers twitching.
Evan’s eyes wandered towards her face. Her eyelids were slowly opening. Eddie pushed the alarm button in the room for a doctor or nurse to get in and help. Step by step, her eye lids opened wider and wider. Until she was fully conscious. A smile appeared on Evan’s face when his eyes met hers. But her face went to a scared look when she realised what was happening. Her leg was torturing her and it felt like her head was about to explode. She wanted to scream but feels like she can’t. Panic rushed through her veins. She wanted to feel what was on her face, connecting to her mouth. But before her right hand could touch it, Evan stopped her by grabbing her hand. “No.. no.” He whispered when he grabbed her hand en put it on his chest. Tears are leaving the corner of her eyes.
___________
Temporary paralysis to the lower body. That is what she got from crossing the street with a green light. Together with some cruel nightmares. Every time when she closed her eyes she would relive that same moment. She would wake up crying, screaming and sweating.
(Y/n) is sitting in her wheelchair as she tries to reach for her keys, which were lying on the kitchen island. She reaches out as far as she could, basically pushing her body almost into the wooden construction of the kitchen. She sighs. This isn’t gonna work. Evan was sleeping, he came home late from shift last night. She didn’t want to wake him and ask him to grab her keys if she was so close to getting it herself. (Y/n) just had to push through. She could do this.. right?
The last weeks she had appointments with a physiotherapist, to try and get her ability to walk back again. But there weren’t any results yet. She was getting impatient, it was like everything she did all the trouble she went through, didn’t do anything for her legs.
(Y/n) puts her hands on the arm rests of the wheelchair she was sitting in, and with all her strength she has in her arms pushes herself to her feet. For a second, it feels like she’s the old (y/n) again. But then with all of gravity’s help, she falls to the side with her butt on the ground. “For fuck sake!” She yells, as she pushes the wheelchair with every single piece of annoyance and anger she has in her to the other side of the room. She didn’t want to have anything to do with it. She can walk. She knows it. She did it before this stupid accident so she can do it again. She didn’t need a wheelchair.
A loud bang roars through the room.
Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She feels like a failure. Frustrated she puts her hands in her hair and starts pulling some hairs from her scalp.
Evan shot up at the sound of a bang. With sleepy eyes, which were still half closed. He sweeps his arm beside him, searching for his girlfriend. “(Y/n)?” He says softly as he now takes a look beside him and doesn’t spot her. He pulls off the covers and steps out of bed as he makes his way through his house, searching for his girlfriend.
“(Y/n)?” Her name sounds through the house. His eyes fall on the wheelchair which was now in the corner of the kitchen. He furrowed his brows, as he notices it. Evan hears a soft sob. He follows the sound, but then he sees his girlfriend between the kitchen island and the counter, on the ground. With tears falling down her face.
“Hey! Hey! hey! What happened?” Evan asks with a concerned voice as he rushes to her side, letting himself fall down on his knees. She didn’t answer. He puts a hand on her shoulder, as he tries to make eye contact with her.
Still no answer.
Evan lets himself sit down on his butt next to her, as he crosses his legs. His hand which was on her shoulder, now makes its way towards her back as he makes small circles on it. Once again he tries to make eye contact with her.
“I can’t..” she sobs.
“You can’t.. what?” He asks confused. She wipes her hand underneath her eyes, as she tries to wipe away some tears. “Do simple shit. Like getting my fucking keys from the damn’ kitchen counter.” She cries.
Evan’s mouth left out a sigh. He moves himself to sit more across of her. Pieces of hair were sticking to her face because of the tears. He brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. His fingers trace down from her ear towards her cheek.
“But.. We’ve come so far..” he starts. “Buck! I’ve been doing this for weeks now, maybe months.. and I still don’t see any fucking progress.” she yells as she bangs her fist on the side of the kitchen island.
“That time will come. You just need to be patient.” Evan tried to reassure her. “Time. Yeah.. sure. How much fucking time does it need?!” she continued on. “(Y/n)-“ he starts. “And don’t you dare to say ‘I know how you feel’ because you fucking don’t!” (Y/n) snapped back at Evan.
Evan shook his head.
“Oh so.. I haven’t been pinned down by a firetruck? I haven’t broke my leg and not been able to work for months, just like you? I haven’t been stuck in a wheelchair just like you?” Evan shot back at her. “It’s not the same.” She said under her breath, as she started fidgeting with her fingers. And looks down at her hands.
“You know what.. you’re right…” (Y/n) looked up at Evan as he said that. “I don’t know how it feels to be stuck to that chair. To not feel your own legs. But what I do know is that I had someone to rely on. And that person was you. You dragged me through that horrible period of my life.” Evan said while he intensely looked into her eyes. He had to make sure the message came over. “So right now. I need you to do the damn’ same. So go ahead, push me away. Punch me, I don’t care. But I will still be here at the end of the day. For you. Because I love you.” Evan ended his speech.
She just looks at him. A moment of silence seemed to be created in between the yelling of (Y/n) and the speech of Evan.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers. As tears were again rolling down her cheeks. “Come here..” Evan says as he reels her into him. He cupped one hand on the back of her head, and rested the other hand around her waist. She sobs into the crook of his neck, a wet spot seems to be created on his t shirt. He plants a kiss on the side of her head.
“We’ll be alright..”
#911#911 fox#911 imagine#buck imagine#buck x reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#evanbuckley#imagine#911 abc
493 notes
·
View notes
Text
katsuki wakes you up from your midday nap with his yelling.
it isn't exactly a rude awakening - you just turn with the sudden ruckus coming from outside your bedroom - but it's enough to cause you the tiniest bit of alarm, even if being together at home is the safest place you can imagine on this earth.
it's saturday evening and he thankfully will not be gone for patrol, so you could afford the extra time to sleep off a worsening migraine. you shift out of your bed, satisfied that a combination of ibuprofen and extra z's have done their work, and make your way out towards the source of the fuss. as you get closer, you're happy to know that it's nothing serious - rather katsuki is simply speaking at loud volume into his phone, presumably irritated, but not devastated by something.
he doesn't hear you coming as light as your footsteps are, and you stand at the doorway to observe him.
"what the FUCK do you mean 'there's nothing you can do'?! i spent hours making these arrangements and you expect me to just accept a gift card like my anniversary is replaceable?!"
you blink, suppressing a yawn still, and watch him. he's agitated and you're pretty sure he's justified, although it probably isn't great for him to yell so much, even if your ears are somewhat attuned to it given your many years together. it's not like when you met him he was exactly the stoic and silent type at all times, although he could be if he wanted to.
but why would you want him to be any different than himself?
you step forward after a few more moments of him hunching over, gritting his teeth as he hears whatever palliating excuses the customer service has on the other end, then press a hand to his shoulder. he stiffens - in fact, he almost pales at your touch and his voice drops nearly to half the number of decibels, a barely audible whisper. reassessing his anger, he nods to you, then to the agent he cannot see, and clears his throat.
"i'll be a little more uh..." he glances at you, and you're smiling at him, but you're giving him the look that pleads him to be nice, and he sighs, "judicious about my willingness to do business with you in the future, but i'll accept a gift card. for now."
with that, the conversation ends. katsuki looks red for a different reason, the gentle sting of embarrassment in his cheeks. you decide not to rub it in, and find a way to settle into his lap.
"what's going on, baby?" you ask. he makes a sound of displeasure, then adjusts your position balanced atop his knee, running a hand through his hair. he then looks at you again, appraising your own emotional state before deciding to change the topic. after all, it's probably best you don't know why he lost his temper.
"did you nap well?" he asks first, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
"not with you hollering," you tease as he lets his teeth graze gently on the skin of your collarbone. he looks up and frowns.
"was it that bad?" his voice is quieter now, lower. you tilt your head.
"you yell all the time. it's fine, i'm used to it. partially deaf at this point."
he frowns again, then mutters a "sorry."
your hand cups his chin. that one word is spoken too softly.
"hey, i'm not made of glass. speak up." you say, squeezing. he smiles, circling his own hand on your wrist before pulling it towards him to kiss the underside.
"sorry, princess!" he says louder, and you giggle, turning your head.
"what? can't hear you?"
he pulls you in and yells directly in your ear, and you scream, and he holds, both of you laughing together. once the two of you calm down, he sighs and leans back into the couch, making sure to take you with him so that you're resting on his chest.
he exhales deep and you wait, knowing he has more to say.
"you know," he starts, tracing circles into your palm, "i had an ex-" you bristle for a moment, and he grins at you, then kisses your forehead, "that thought i was too loud."
"loud, yes. too loud? i'm not sure," you reply.
he shrugs. "she would bristle any time she heard me talking. i would never yell at her, but i guess i scared her in some way just by the tone of my voice."
"mm." part of you wonder what they expected; he's always lived boisterously, with no pretense otherwise, but you keep mum.
"so i felt like i couldn't really be myself around them. obviously not the way i can be with you."
katsuki looks away from you for a moment and in space as though he is thinking, and then soon time is up, and his focus shifts back to you, giving you a cheeky grin.
"thanks for putting up with me," he says. again his voice is soft and quiet, because he addresses you with care, not because you've demanded him to adjust for you, but because he wants to.
you peck his nose. "well, when i go deaf in both ears, i'll reconsider."
he rolls his eyes playfully, and you pull his ear and yell, "i love you!"
he threatens to throw you off of him again, and you playfight until you're both rested on the couch, content in each other's arms.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Cooking together | Chris Sturniolo
Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N teaches Chris how to cook a typical sweet from her country.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by @gfgcgntxrhg
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Honey?" Y/N called in a low tone. Her steps were light and almost muted by the orange socks that reached up to her calf, which she had grabbed from Chris's drawer.
Her eyes darted around the kitchen briefly, before finally finding her boyfriend, who was standing between the dark brown table and the open refrigerator, his right hand holding the door while his left rested on his chin, a thoughtful look on his face.
"What are you doing?" The girl asked, approaching her boyfriend as she looked into the fridge, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I wanted to make something different for us to eat." His arms fell over his body and hit his hips in frustration.
Chris and Y/N were getting ready to start a movie marathon. The two were already lying on the double bed, their bodies covered by the fluffy duvet. The lights were turned off, the television on being the only source of lighting between the four walls; when the boy had the idea of popping popcorn to accompany them.
About 15 minutes had passed and Chris still hadn't returned to the room with the snack, and Y/N had no choice but to see what he was up to. She knew that her boyfriend had a childish soul and that if he was left unsupervised for too long, he could destroy the whole house.
"Didn't you want popcorn, baby?" Y/N questioned, moving closer and closing the fridge door.
Chris turned to her with a sigh, shaking his head.
"I wanted to, but I'm hungry, and I want something sweet." The boy said, leaning on the table behind him and crossing his arms.
He didn't know exactly what he could have made for them to eat if Y/N hadn't shown up, he didn't know how to cook anything at all and he would have definitely burned any idea he had.
"You know bakeries can cook for us, right? I can order delivery, honey. That bakery you like is still open." Y/N informed, taking half of her phone out of her hoodie pocket and quickly looking at the time before putting it away again.
"No, I want something homemade." Chris continued, tapping his right foot lightly against the floor. He really could act like a child when he wanted to.
Y/N sighed as she looked around, her mind trying to come up with ideas of something they could cook that was sweet and got ready quickly.
She took a few steps towards the cabinet on the left side of the refrigerator, opening the doors with her hands and looking through the items, a smile appearing on her lips when she saw exactly what she was looking for.
"We're making brigadeiro." Y/N informed as she grabbed the ingredients she would need.
"Briga- what?" Chris tried to utter, moving closer to his girlfriend as he looked at the items in her hands curiously.
Y/N let out a laugh, placing the ingredients on the counter next to the stove, turning to her boyfriend.
"Brigadeiro." She spoke slowly and clearly. "It's a Brazilian sweet, I sent you a picture of it once when I was back in São Paulo, but you saw it in the birthday party format, which is a small ball with sprinkles."
"Oh, I remember!" The brunette spoke excitedly, nodding his head. "But are there other formats?"
"Yes, you can use brigadeiro in everything and in every way, literally. But the easiest and quickest is to make it in a pot, also known as spoon brigadeiro, which is what we're going to do right now." Y/N turned to face the ingredients, arranging them in order of use. "Get me a medium pot, baby. Please."
The girl took her phone out of her pocket, resting it on the counter behind where the ingredients were, so that the screen was staring back at her. Her fingers worked on opening the camera and going to the video tab, clicking the red button to start recording.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked after standing up again, having bent down to pick up a pot from the cupboards on the floor, placing the requested object on the stove while looking at her phone recording them in confusion.
"I need to record this moment. My boyfriend is going to learn how to make his first Brazilian cuisine, and it's my favorite sweet." Y/N smiled big, turning to her boyfriend and sealing his cheek with her lips, stroking the skin lightly with the tip of her nose.
Chris smiled back, pulling her by the waist and kissing her forehead softly, before releasing her so they could begin.
"Okay, for this recipe, we'll only need butter, chocolate powder, and condensed milk. Thank God I brought some condensed milk from Brazil when I went last time. The ones here don't turn out the same." The girl explained to Chris, who was watching her closely.
"Butter and chocolate?" He asked as he wrinkled his nose in discomfort.
"Honey, butter is part of the ingredients of at least 80% of the cakes we eat anywhere." Y/N's tone was obvious, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Alright, chef." Chris raised his arms in surrender, earning a laugh from his girlfriend.
She opened one of the drawers on the counter and took out two tablespoons and a silicone spoon, which they would use to stir the brigadeiro over the heat, placing the three items on the counter before turning to Chris.
"What?" He asked, looking at her suspiciously.
"You will do it, and I will watch." Y/N replied, shrugging her shoulders and receiving wide eyes in response.
"Do you want to kill us both?"
"Don't be dramatic!" She smiled in amusement before pointing to the ingredients. "First, you'll need a tablespoon of butter."
Chris took the jar of butter and opened the lid carefully. His hand reached for one of the spoons and dipped it into the contents before looking at his girlfriend, waiting for the next step.
"You can put it in the pot." She indicated, pointing to the pot as she leaned her hips against the counter, watching him carefully.
Chris tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot a few times until all the butter contents were in before throwing the spoon into the sink.
"Perfect, now you're going to need four tablespoons of chocolate powder." The girl instructed, pushing the chocolate towards Chris.
"Four of chocolate for one of butter? Won't it be too thick?" The boy asked, wrinkling his nose as he lifted the chocolate powder packaging, looking briefly at the label.
"No, baby, there's still the condensed milk. I normally only add three tablespoons when I make it in Brazil, but because the one there has more sugar than the one here." She explained, waving her right hand for him to continue.
The boy raised his hands in surrender before opening the lid of the package, dipping the spoon into the brown powder and taking it out before throwing the contents into the pot. He repeated the action three more times, counting low each time so as not to get lost in the count, earning a laugh from Y/N.
"That's it. Now it's condensed milk." Y/N took the chocolate powder and the spoon from Chris's hands, throwing the spoon in the sink next to the other and closing the package before taking scissors. "You can cut off the top and throw everything into the pot."
"Everything? Do you want to give me diabetes?" Chris's blue eyes were wide as he stared at the condensed milk packaging as if it were a monster.
"Enough with the drama." The girl spoke with a smile in her voice, pushing the condensed milk and scissors into Chris's hands, who took them.
"If I die, it's her fault." The boy whispered to the phone's front camera, looking sideways at his girlfriend, who was rolling her eyes.
"Hurry up." She ordered, pushing the boy's hips with her own.
He sighed, cutting off the top edge of the package before returning the scissors to Y/N, turning it over the pot and squeezing the wrapper, watching the pasty liquid drain completely.
"That doesn't feel right." The boy muttered, placing the empty package on the counter next to him and staring at the ingredients together inside the pot, before grabbing the handles and turning it on its side, showing it to the camera. "It looks like-"
"If you drop it on the stove, you'll be the one cleaning it all up. This is full of sugar. Ants will come, and Matt will kill you." Y/N interrupted, slapping Chris on the shoulder and pulling his arms so he could put the pot right on the stove again.
"But it doesn't make any sense." He scratched the back of his head with his right hand, looking at his girlfriend with uncertainty in his eyes.
"When it's done, you'll see that it will look better than it does now." The girl spoke, dipping the index finger of her left hand into the condensed milk before taking it into her mouth, sucking out all the contents.
"Hey! Don't touch my work." He shouted, looking at Y/N with an offended look.
"If you don't turn on the heat and start stirring, it will never become a "work"." Y/N snorted while making quotation mark gestures with her fingers before pointing at the stove.
Chris rolled his eyes, turning to the stove again and turning on the heat under the pot before taking a step back and looking at it.
"Are you just going to watch and wait for it to be ready by itself?" Y/N's voice came out loud, her hand working on quickly grabbing the silicone spoon and placing it inside the pot, lowering the heat before it burned. "You have to stir constantly, baby. Otherwise, it will burn, and sugar burns very quickly." She informed, taking Chris' right hand and leading it to the spoon, before taking his left and bringing it to the left handle of the pot, keeping it steady there so that it didn't move with his movements.
"Ah, obviously, I already knew that." He said with a shrug, his cheeks turning red as a smile appeared on his face due to Y/N's laughter.
"Okay, that's it. Wait, you have to move it like this." Y/N murmured, positioning herself behind Chris and taking his right hand with her own, standing on tiptoe and placing her left hand on his waist to maintain her balance, starting to move the spoon with her boyfriend.
Her head was the only part of her that the camera captured, being shorter than Chris, his body covered her completely. She had her head tilted to their right side, next to his covered shoulder, looking intently at the stove.
Chris briefly looked at the phone screen that showed them back, letting out a laugh at their position.
"It seems the roles have changed." He teased, pushing his ass back so that it pushed Y/N's body slightly. She firmed her grip on her boyfriend's covered waist to keep from falling, pinching the skin lightly.
"Hey, if it burns, I won't do it again, and you'll eat it burnt!" She exclaimed, joining Chris in his laughter seconds later, rolling her eyes and turning her attention back to the pot.
It didn't take long, and soon the brigadeiro was at the right point. Y/N let go of Chris's right hand and turned off the heat, before starting to move away from his body, but her action was interrupted by him, who turned and pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in the crook of her neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin for a few seconds, before sealing the area momentarily.
"Thank you, baby."
The girl let out a laugh at the tickle that Chris's beard caused on her skin, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head, squeezing him lightly, before taking a step back.
"Come on, silly. Let's eat." She spoke, taking his right hand and making him stand next to the stove before picking up a round ceramic plate and two smaller bowls.
Y/N lifted the pot by one of the handles with her left hand while holding the silicone spoon with her right, turning it onto the plate.
"Hold the plate for me, baby. Please." She asked, and Chris didn't take long to do so, watching the way her tongue escaped between her lips in concentration, a smile appearing on his face as his blue eyes traveled over the features he loved so much. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to drop it on the counter." The girl whispered, her cheeks taking on a red hue.
Chris let out a laugh, suppressing his desire to shower her with kisses.
Y/N tipped almost all of the brown content onto the plate with the help of the spoon before straightening the pot and taking it over the two bowls, dividing what was left inside each one.
"What are these for?" The boy asked, dropping the plate he still held on the counter and looking at the bowls in confusion.
"Nick and Matt." She responded simply, finishing all the contents of the sweet before placing the pot in the sink, filling it with water and making a mental note to wash it before going to sleep, so as not to get ants from the sugar. "Would you like to taste it?" The girl asked, bringing the spoon closer to Chris's face, who had a soft smile on his face.
Chris felt himself falling in love with Y/N all over again every time she remembered her brothers when they were doing something, including them even if they weren't there; he loved the way she took care of the three of them with so much love and affection, like a family.
The boy nodded, opening his mouth slightly and bringing his face closer to Y/N's hand, wrapping his lips around the silicone spoon and licking the contents. His blue eyes instantly widened at the taste. It wasn't extremely sugary like he thought it would be. It was just the right amount of sweet.
His hand quickly took the spoon from Y/N's hand and finished licking it all, as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted - and maybe it really was.
The girl leaned over the counter and took her phone back, waving at the camera before stopping the recording, making a mental note to rewatch it the next day and, perhaps, post a snippet for the fans who loved seeing videos of the two of them together.
"I told you it was good." Y/N spoke as she laughed at his reaction, putting her cell in the pocket of her hoodie and opening the cutlery drawer, taking out four small spoons and placing one in each bowl and two on the plate. "Now, help me take this to your brothers."
"Yes, ma'am."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Extra - comments:
"I'm so happy she posted this moment for us all to see together 😭"
"chris is such a drama queen 💀"
"omg that must have been so good 😫"
"Y/N separating a little for Nick and Matt, this is so sweet 🥺"
"Y/N standing behind Chris to help him make the brigadeiro LMAO that's so cute"
"Chris counting the spoonfuls of chocolate so he doesn't lose the count 😭😔"
"they are so beautiful together omg"
"I want what these bitches have 😔"
"petition for Y/N to make TikToks of her teaching Chris how to cook different things ✏️📄"
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu
(If you want to be added to the taglist, comment here, please)
#x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#love#imagines#chris sturniolo fanfiction#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x yn#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris x reader#chris fanfic#chris au#chris#cooking#couple cooking#brigadeiro#brazilian reader#brazilian#fluff#youtuber
613 notes
·
View notes
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can
— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).
warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)
currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!
masterlist ✢ next
By Alana Blake
YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.
Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.
But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."
RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.
You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".
"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.
One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.
SEE ALSO:
→ Victoria Presley's inauguration after party at the Grand Havana Room, you just had to be there.
→ Taylor Swift defends y/n y/ln: ''All of you have learned nothing!"
→ Aidan Kim on Charles Leclerc: "Never heard of him until my girlfriend cheated on me"
𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!
You're seeing the top comments.
Anonymous – 4 hr ago
They're both so shameless! and charles was liking tweets saying they were friends like he could really trick us.
kollhha – 3 hr ago
I hate her, Charles dump her ass for the love of god.
adriennewells – 40 min ago
no but seriously what is it about y/n that has men brainwashed?
Anonymous – 10 min ago
They WOULD be cute together, i don't think they're dating though.
June 10th, Los Angeles, California
You fit your life for the past months into two suitcases, and a carry on. Your room at Vic's house is messy and it feels strangely empty without your discarded shoes and dirty laundry on the floor. But it's time to go, you cannot impose your presence in this enormous house anymore. You have felt like an intruder since you started traveling to Formula 1 and coming back every week like this is your hotel and not your best friend's home.
"Are you really going back to New York?" Vic asks from behind you, voice low with sadness.
"Yes, Vic, I have to." you sigh, turning to meet her. She's dressed up in her fucsia workout gear, holding a light ring in her left hand and her phone in the right. Your flight leaves in the evening and you were hoping to have a meal with Vic before parting to the airport, but it looks like she's all booked.
"No you don't," she argues, entering the room. "Hollywood is here, y/n why do you need to go back to New York? You're an actress!"
You feel like a lot of things, except for an actress right now.
"I don't think Hollywood wants me right now, Vic," you say, going back to the unmade bed to lie down. You asked the cleaning lady if she could leave your room for last so you could finish picking your stuff up, and she agreed gently. "Plus, I really miss New York."
"y/n you haven't even visited my store, you can't go!" Vic's tone changes in octave, and it's not her whiny 'please don't do this' tone you're so used to. "I asked you for ONE favor and you're running to New York and you can't do even just that?"
"Woah, Vic, what the fuck?" you use your elbows as support to lean up and look at her. "Calm down. It's okay." you know her tantrum comes from the fact that she truly believes you could boost her beauty line sales and make her store a 'hot spot'. And it would work, for the wrong reasons. You don't want Vic being dragged down into this mess too. Mati and Charles are enough casualties.
"NO IT'S NOT!" Victoria is full-on yelling now, the light ring has been tossed aside. "I have given everything you've asked from me in the past months since your life started falling apart. I think I deserve something in return."
You ignore the bite of her words. She's angry, which is understandable to some level. She doesn't mean it, right? That she always expected something in return.
"Vic, listen, I know how important your store is to you. But I promise you, you don't want the attention I'm bringing to anyone close to me right now."
"Oh, so you're doing this for my own good now?" she scoffs, ponytail flying in the air as she turns around. "Are you fucking Charles Leclerc for his own good too? Or do men's reputations don't matter?" she spits.
You halt completely, halfway out of the mattress. "What did you say?"
"Oh, please y/n. You really want me to believe you don't want to be seen with me to 'protect me'" she throws the quotations in the air, "And yet you went on your pretty vacation with that bitch Matilde, and you talk to fucking Charles Leclerc every day!"
"Victoria, stop," your brain is a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. You’re having trouble catching up to the where the conversation is going. "That was different, Vic. In case you haven't noticed, things can't stop getting worse. My life is not good right now." You choke on the last words, because it's the first time you say such things out loud. You have never been more miserable.
Victoria scoffs yet again, and it’s a tear in your heart. She's really not backing off. "Of course your life isn't good y/n wah, wah. You have money and beauty and a pilot boyfriend, it sucks so much to be you!"
"Why are you so bothered about it? Why is Charles the main problem here?" you wipe the tears from your cheeks, scratching the skin with one of your rings. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"
Everything was alright this morning at breakfast, when you reminded her you were leaving and your luggage was almost done. When you thanked her for taking you in and told her you could never really repay her support.
"Because you get everything you want all the time!" Victoria stomps to you, her face inches away when she stops. "You always get what you want no matter what. It didn't even matter that I said you view him as a fucking piece of meat! He still went after you."
The world moves in slow-motion as her words cascade on you. Your lungs close and your throat tightens again, and you want to fight the panic attack because you just know Victoria is not going to help you. How could she? If she's the one who betrayed you.
"How–Why–" you stutter, the hem of your shirt on your fist. You can fight this. "How could you do this to me?"
Victoria finally comes to the realization of what she let out, and covers her mouth. "y/n no– look–"
"Who told you about the ring?" your jaw is locked and you're trying not to lose focus. "How could you tell them about the ring?!"
"How could you not tell ME?! I'm your fucking best friend, you bitch!" she's raising her voice again, her surprise pushed aside because you're still fighting. "I had to find out through Aidan, months later."
The Cannes party. Of course.
You thought about asking her about it. Telling her it hurt you that she hung out so happily with Aidan when he was the reason you arrived at her house one night in February, frightened, sad, and confused. But you didn't because you trusted her. You would have trusted Victoria with your life at some point.
"It really is you, then," tears are streaming down your face again.
You feel stupid because only yesterday, in another rage-scroll through Twitter, you noticed people were already making theories about how it was Victoria who was selling information about you. And you felt so offended, how could they think your best friend would do that to you?
"How could you, Victoria? How could you make all that shit up?"
You talked to Victoria about the articles. You cried and told her you were sorry you didn’t let her in on the failed proposal, it was something you were still processing and couldn’t bring yourself to talk about, still wondering if it had been a mistake every now and then. You told her how sorry you felt to Charles because he just wanted to hang out with you—to be friends with you—and people marked him down as a home wrecker when he had nothing to do with it.
“It was definitely Mia though, wasn’t it?” She said as she rubbed your back and passed the box of tissues to you. “She always hated you, so weird. It was like she loved Aidan in a fucked up way.” Victoria even shuddered exaggeratedly, trying to make you laugh.
“Yeah I’m sure it was Mia, Aidan just won’t admit it.” You let her wipe your tears and smooth your hair down. Nobody could convince you that your ex-sister-in-law didn’t run to People and spewed shit. It was the most logical conclusion that Aidan was protecting his little sister.
This had been three days ago, she lied and made fun of you, to your face.
"So now I'm a liar? You are fucking Charles Leclerc! Or what, you expect me to believe all you do is hold hands and peck each other's cheeks?"
Again with Charles, it infuriates you.
"You told the press I'm a cheater! And I am NOT with Charles, God you're so stupid!"
"How would I know whether it's true or not? You never tell me anything anymore, do you? You don't care about me! I'm your best friend. I deserve to be your priority!"
"You deserve to rot in hell, you lying bitch." you don't even raise your voice anymore, "How could I ever love you?"
Victoria laughs, and your heart finally shatters. "I would do it again, y/n, because it's what you forced me to do."
The apartment is a mess, and you know it's on purpose. Your clothes are everywhere, the dirt from the plants you kept on the balcony is all over the floor, the coffee table is broken and your room looks like a hurricane passed through. Your coffee maker and your Specialty coffee both lie on the floor of the kitchen, and there is a horrible smell coming from the fridge. Aidan hasn't been gone long enough for things to rot to that extent, especially because every appliance is plugged in.
You don't want to look at the rest of the house, or your belongings. All you do is lean down to pick up your Moka pot, and make time to think, but you're unable to stand straight again. It's like the pain is pulling you down. How did your life become this?
A ruined apartment, a rejected engagement and a backstabbing best friend are things that happen in the movies. You would know. This wasn't supposed to happen to you.
Crying in that ruined kitchen, holding a Moka pot like it's your greatest treasure and not some piece of trash that you will never be able to use anymore, you get angry, furious. Because this is not your life and it was never supposed to be. And it's about time you start doing something about it.
You are sick of running. Of having people question you for not 'defending' yourself when you have no reason to be attacked in the first place. Relationships die, and yours had been past its time to be buried. Saying no is not a crime. And it never will be.
Victoria had burned her own thread with you in the worst way possible because you didn't make her the only person in your life. And you had overlooked every time you felt used by her, unloved, and tossed aside. Friends can break your heart too, and Victoria had ripped yours out of your chest.
Nobody has to tell you who you are, because you know. And you are nothing of what you've let tabloids, netizens and reporters say. You cannot keep running and you cannot keep hiding, and though you wish you had understood that earlier. It's never too late to pick yourself up.
Mildred and Walter are going to be pissed, but their advice was that you remained lowkey for however long it took Hollywood to get their next big scandal. Weeks, months, years.
And you're not about to scurry away into darkness like a rat.
FROM “JUST WATCH THIS” POSTED IN Y/N Y/LN'S YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED JUNE 12TH
[y/n,minute 01:30]: ❝...So I've finally decided to come here and tell you everything that has been happening for the past months. It's the truth, but whether you believe it is a personal choice.❞
[y/n,minute 05:56]: ❝It was a three-year dead-end relationship. You cannot, and should not, have a future with someone who laughs at your dreams, and tells you how you should behave and how to look to exalt him.❞
[y/n, minute 07:15]: ❝I said no. And I have not regret it for one second. I didn't tell anyone because I respect Aidan, although I don't think that is reciprocal by now.❞
[y/n, minute 10:01]: ❝I never cheated on him, and I know the source of those rumors. It breaks my heart to know that someone I trusted made up stuff about myself, and a part of my life that was so important to me. I am not telling you who it was, however, I will take legal action against them if the defamation continues.❞
[y/n, minute 14:54]: ❝Aidan decided to tell this person about our failed engagement, and I do not know if his intention was that this all became public. But I wish he'd been mature enough to handle it privately, like the adults we both are.❞
[y/n, minute 16:59]: ❝I started attending Formula 1 races because of an Ambassador contract I held with Elix until three days ago, when they decided to rescind it.❞
[y/n, minute 18:07]: ❝That's where I met both Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, back in April. Since they are the drivers for Ferrari, we spent a lot of time in the same place, which led to us becoming friends.❞
[y/n, minute 19:04]: ❝Charles Leclerc is my friend and we are not romantically involved, I urge you to stop making stuff up about him too. He never messed with my past relationship, we did not know each other.❞
[y/n, minute 21:55]: ❝When all of this started, I believed—naively— that it could just die down on its own. I am an actress. I was not only 'Aidan Kim's girlfiend' and I am not only his ex-girlfriend now. I am y/n y/ln.❞
[y/n, minute 23:31]: ❝I should have spoken sooner. I should have shut everything down the moment I started feel miserable and out of control. But I also know, I was being crucified so badly because I am a woman.❞
[y/n, minute 26:00]: ❝You have made me feel miserable and anxious, I have suffered from panic attacks and sleepless nights. And I'm not saying this to make you all feel bad and regretful, because the one thing you lack the most is empathy.❞
[y/n, minute 28:45]: ❝But I want you all to think that, if it had been the other way around and Aidan hadn't wanted to marry me, you would have said 'he wasn't ready' and you would have let him move on and find "The One" in peace.❞
[y/n, minute 31:35]: ❝If it was Timothee Chalamet—whom I also have a deep appreciation for—doing RomComs and nothing more, you would call it 'his specialty' and never question his talent.❞
[y/n, minute 33:17]: ❝If I was a man, this wouldn't have killed my reputation.❞
[y/n, minute 36:21]: ❝I will not remain quiet anymore while you step on me and diminish my work. I do not owe anything to Aidan Kim except for the drama the past months have brought me.❞
[y/n, minute 38:11]: ❝I'm going to focus on the future. And I am well aware this will be continue to be a topic of conversation, but I am not scared anymore. Because I know who I am and who I can count on.❞
[y/n, minute 40:12]: ❝If it weren't for my fans, who have been fighting my battles so hard, I wouldn't be here either. They're here for me, and I can never repay such pure love.❞
[y/n, minute 42:22]: ❝If you watched up to here, I'm sure you're wondering whether you should believe all of this, and like I said, it's all up to you❞
[y/n, minute 44:50]: ❝I will not be speaking about Aidan Kim again, so I ask you to refrain from asking about him. It's all been said and done, and I'm eager to move on.❞
[END]
You are looking at the all the comments.
aidanbabes WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH EVEN ON
flowerbedkim Oh so now Aidan forced her to be with him? Bullshit. You are never saving your lying ass y/n, fuck you!!!!!
thatbitch123 You are absolutely right y/n if you were a man this wouldn’t have happened it's so sad
ynbabes2 my queen i waited for you to speak for so long!!! WE HAVE TO MOVE ON FROM THIS
leclercstar you all have made this girl's life absolute hell, i hope you never find peace!! I'm glad she's friends with Charles and Carlos.
presleyvibes wait and you thank people but not Vic who let you stay at her house? you're an ungrateful bitch
albstappen I saw her pic with Lily Muni and I just knew she was one of the good ones
ynmybeloved EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST YN SHALL FALL
kim41d4an IT'S YOUR WORD AGAINST AIDAN'S YOU CHEATING WHORE
June 12th, SoHo, New York.
You are trying to clean the mess around you as best you can. And although you could call someone to help you, sweeping and scrubbing keeps you busy and distracted. The first message you received after posting the video was from Mati a 'proud of you xx, tell me all about it later please!' text that made you take your first deep breath of the afternoon. You made an appointment with a doctor first thing in the morning, you want the panic to go away, you need it to.
Thoughts of how they're destroying you again, calling you a liar and a whore, swarm your brain and you try to toss them in the trash along with your ruined Dolce & Gabbana coat, mysteriously cut up with scissors. You told the truth, and not even the whole of it.
The video is being shown everywhere, you're sure you'll see it tomorrow in Good Morning America where they'll dissect every single move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth.
It's almost 9 pm when you finally stop wiping the apartment down, trying to get rid of every sign that Aidan Kim was ever inside it. It's not true that he paid for the apartment, you picked it yourself and made it a home and then he chose to come and live here, paying the rent once every three to five months. This is your home and you are reclaiming it.
Your phone rings and you take another deep breath before picking it up. Mildred and Walter have resorted to communicate with you through email, so you wonder who it is. Victoria called a few times during the weekend, left voicemails and text messages until you blocked her. Each of them with a new excuse and a more creative way to pin all of what she had done, on you.
It's a FaceTime call from Charles.
"Charlie!" you greet with a smile, before the image of him loads completely. "It's 3 am in Monaco, what the hell are you doing awake?"
Charles shrugs and you notice his bare shoulders, he's shirtless. You're suddenly self-conscious about the way you look. With your hair sticking up from the sweat, your greasy face and ragged shirt. It's a silly worry.
"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and you know he's tired. "I saw your video earlier, but I was doing something else."
"Oh, you saw that."
"I'm proud of you y/n, you are brave for speaking your mind like that. I know it must have taken some effort." Charles moves again and you see his chest, he's already in bed.
"Charles, go to sleep, we can talk about this later," you chuckle, heat is rising to your face.
"I wanted to see you y/n, it doesn't matter what time it is. And I really wanted to tell you I'm glad you posted that video."
"Thank you, Charlie. I should have done it sooner."
"The only one who knows what timing is right for you, is yourself."
"Yeah, I guess so." you sigh, you're exhausted too and you blame it more on the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through than deep cleaning your apartment.
"Are you tired?" he asks, suppressing a yawn.
"No more than you," you retort, but can't help yawning as well. It's a scientific fact that yawns are contagious. "Go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow."
You talked yesterday too, and the day before, and you cried so much on the phone again you thought he would eventually hang up until you calmed down. But Charles soothed you through the phone at 1 am Monaco time and told you to let it all out, and listened without interrupting you once how you called Aidan and Victoria every name in the book.
"Fine," Charles says, rubbing his left eye carelessly. "Will you give me a tour of your apartment tomorrow, then?"
"Yes! I finished cleaning it today!"
Charles laughs softly at your excitement. “We’ll talk tomorrow then, just because you need to sleep.”
“Sure I am the sleepy one,” you roll your eyes and Charles smiles, both dimples showing. “Goodnight Charlie, sweet dreams.” The last part you say it in a slightly mocking tone but Charles doesn’t take it as such, smile widening.
“Goodnight soleil,” he says and waits a few seconds for you to react to your newly given nickname before hanging up, anxious but satisfied.
─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are liking the story so far. We're slowly getting to the y/n redemption. Once again, i really appreciate all of your interactions they mean the world to me. Also check out the series playlist if you haven't♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @sassyheroneckgiant @flowerchild-96 @fangirlika @shegotboreddsoo @roseamongthorns13 @cissyp @chimchimjiminie16 @saturnsrinqs @roni-midnights @gayyvodka6 @studioreader @its-ash-not-grey @lu-morningstar @ferraribabe @reidsworld @feelslikestrawberries @celestialams @kosmosgalore @heeseung-baby @missenclod @buendiabebeta @mycenterfold @aces-tattooartist @burningrred @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @rainybabe25 @ru-kru @lazybot @teenagedreams-cl @cool-ultra-nerd @kuskumu @formulakay3 @bisexual-desi @somanyfandomsbruh @icarus-nex @haziefairy @xjval @xoxoloverb @sainzleclercs @headinthecloudssblog @incoherenciass @bookophiliac @torrie421 @nooshytushie @azxulaa @steephanie07 @anonymous8462 @tbisloneely @pukklv @bn7921 @be-your-coffee-pot @fdl305 @lovely-blackinnon @landonorizzz @ruleroftheuniverse @ivegotparticulartaste
want to join the paddock club? click here!
if you are not tagged please check your blog settings because tumblr isn't letting me tag you
#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#cl16 fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
don't kiss and tell: part 3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader
summary: maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated. if you knew, then why did you let it get this far?
content: non-idol au, explicit smut, cursing, pet names, angst, foursome with switch! reader, switch! mark, switch but sorta sub! haechan, sorta dom! jeno, unprotected sex (pls be safe), hair pulling, fingering, oral sex (male recieving), creampie, there is plot (please read parts 1 and 2 to fully understand!)
wc: 10.2k
masterlist
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
18+ minors do not interact !
!¡
“no.”
“but mark-”
“absolutely not.”
“mark, please.”
“we end up doing this every time.”
“this is the last time, i promise!" you plea, one hand resting on his tense arm, "and if i remember correctly, the last two times we did this, it was your idea!”
with the heaviest and most dramatic of sighs, mark’s shoulders sink down in defeat, head rolling back. the last syllable is dragged out as he complains again, "but we've seen this episode before!"
"yes, but it was so long ago that i don’t even remember what happened, please!" you insist, black remote clutched stubbornly in your hand. when he takes longer than two seconds to conjure a convincing argument, your finger presses the middle play button without missing a beat, just in case the boy next to you decides to protest again.
as revenge, the bowl of buttered popcorn, still warm from being recently made, is snatched off of your lap and clutched between mark's palms as he settles under the blanket.
"alright, fine. but pay attention this time so that you don't start asking questions," he's only half-joking, even when he tilts the bowl away and out of your reach playfully. incapable of really denying you anything, mark notices your puffed out cheeks and snorts, compliantly setting the bowl between your bodies. you're busy rolling your eyes, muttering something under your breath close to the effect of "i don't ask that many questions."
while your right hand reaches in to grab a few pieces and pop them into your mouth, you train your eyes on the tv in mark's room. it's the only source of light in the otherwise dark space, illuminating the sharpest points of your faces in cool-toned hues of blue and purple.
maybe it's because he has already seen this episode and is only re-watching it to appease you—and reinforce your lacking memory of the plot—but mark's dark orbs find themselves troubled with the task of concentrating on the screen. instead, they're fixed on you, swimming over the curves of your features.
he's caught himself thinking about you more often these days: jumping for his phone in hopes that it's your name that appears when he gets a text, or staring at you with no intention of looking away unless there's a chance you may catch his eye. at first, he considered knocking some sense into himself and snapping out of this risky habit he's developed, but how could he do that when the very mention of your name provokes a whirlwind of thoughts?
without tilting his head too much in your direction and giving himself away, mark watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. much like his gaze, his mind is preoccupied with all that is you, disregarding the content on the screen.
he finds his mouth salivating as a quick flash of you hovering above him crosses his mind, suddenly reminding him of the way your weight felt on his face, shaking thighs on either side of his head as his tongue swirled around your folds to savor your taste… thank god, he's under the blankets.
and the sounds you made for him? the sweet sounds you made might very well be responsible for his newfound infatuation. mark catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to remember the way his name slipped off your tongue like velvet-
"mark?"
just like that.
"mark!"
ripped from his daydream and forced to return to reality, mark quickly blinks, eyes snapping to you and widening slightly as he orients himself, "what? sorry i-"
"i asked if this is the guy who was caught with the killer last episode?"
mark gawks at you, a certain amusement or perhaps endearment behind his eyes, be it intentional or not.
it takes him a moment to register your ask because, well, he fully expected you to ask questions because you always ask questions, regardless of what's playing—but for reasons unknown, your little quirk felt particularly familiar today, wholesome even. it's enough to make his heart slightly swell.
"or wait, no! isn't he the one who- why are you looking at me like that?"
he shakes his head softly, unaware of how beguiled he looks, and mutters out "no reason." as his lips press together again, they curve into a little grin.
you raise a brow in confusion, "i know you said not to ask questions, it's just that i wasn't sure if-"
"oh, i don't mind."
as you inspect his face, trying to pick apart what's going on with him, mark's attention starts dwindling once more. why had he never noticed how pretty you are? i mean, he's always thought you were pretty, but something feels so distinctly different now. so, what changed?
for starters, the kiss—no. it wasn't the kiss. he had already doubled back to check if that was the moment that you decided to take a piece of his heart for yourself, and it wasn't. that day, nothing that you did or said solidly implied you might have wanted to be more than friends.
then, there was the time you sat on his face. as exceptional and undeniably revolutionary as that moment was, he wasn't the only one who ate you out, and mark is almost positively sure that he started feeling like this after you deliberately singled him out; something you had done had distinguished him among the other boys and made him feel as though there was a connection between you, more than just the sexual aspects of the bet.
Or, perhaps he's just deluded, searching for any minimal interaction between you that justifies how his ever-waking thought is you. he considered that possibility, also, but it doesn't feel as likely, or at least he sincerely hopes it isn't the case.
so when? when did you make mark lee feel so special that his heart decided to beat wholly for you? it's on the tip of his tongue.
he hasn't uttered a single word in two minutes, despite your burning gaze. "okay, seriously," you sit up, ceasing the playback at once, "what? do i have popcorn in my teeth?"
"no."
"then, what is it?"
baby. that's what it is.
when you called him baby, that's when he started feeling this way.
he's never been keen on pet names, they sounded foreign or misdirected when others would use them on him. but when it came from you? it was heavenly.
ever since you called him that, voice airy and thin as you drowned in the pleasure he gave you, mark had never been the same. moreover, he could not seem to forget a single, minute detail: all three of the boys ate you out, but the only person who you called baby was him.
"why did you call me baby?" he surprises you and himself, the question leaving the safe space of his mind before any consultation is made with his better judgement.
your eyes flicker between his, "what?"
"you called me baby."
quick to object, you lean back, "no i didn't. when?"
"not right now," he shakes his head, "but that day... the day you, uhm- sat on my-"
"oh." in the wake of your realization, your heart begins to wildly leap in your chest.
it's impossible to forget the events of the game night; in fact, any time you're in the same room as any of the boys, you can't help but think of it and wonder if they do, too. often times, the memories follow you even in their absence, at moments where you're alone and randomly dwelling over your exchange with mark.
the two of you cuddling while you were fully naked and in still your post-orgasmic bliss, right before he left to grab you some clothes for the night and offer you his bed, tugging a long a blanket so he could crash on couch for the remainder of the evening...
yes, that exchange. you proceeded to not sleep a wink that night, despite the lingering smell of him on his sweats and sheets that lulled you to comfort.
however, not once since that day had any of you dared to bring it up in conversation, especially as bluntly as mark just had. so, naturally, your cheeks are blossoming, sporting a bright shade of red that is evident even under the tinted blue glow of the tv.
in your shock, you can't tear your eyes away from mark's. you're frozen in place, blinking at him as your brain urges you to spit out any moderately coherent response.
when you finally find your voice, you're a stuttering mess, "well, it's just that, uh- it just felt right, i guess. i mean, why are you asking?"
"because," he pauses, the nerves finally catching up to him, "from the moment that word left your lips, i haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
"mark..."
"please tell me i'm not crazy." he interjects, fearing there's a rejection coming. if he doesn't speak out now, he might never get the chance to, so he continues, using every last bit of courage he has, "i really, really like you," his voice cracks slightly, "but, if you can look at me and tell me that you don't think about me the way i think about you, i'll never bring it up again. we can forget this all happened,"
you've been staring at him the entire time but somehow, you failed to notice the way he had inched closer at some point during his confession. when you don't pull away or immediately refuse his feelings, he starts to lean in, letting his eyes freely travel down to your lips. very carefully, he reaches up to hold your face, wary that a single wrong move could rob him of the virtue that is tasting your lips again.
little does he know that not one single fiber of your being intends to interject or stop him. when your eyes flutter closed, giving him silent permission, he presses his mouth to yours gently.
god, if you thought the first kiss you shared with him was slow and torturous, nothing could have prepared you for this one.
tenderly and gingerly, mark moves his mouth against yours, finally free of any distractions or time constraints. his fingers disappear into your hairline as he rotates his head to revel in the feeling of your warm, plump lips finally grazing his.
with no hesitation, you reciprocate his affection, sinking into the warmth of his touch. it's as exhilarating as ever to kiss him, even with the slight awkwardness that radiates off of both of you.
at first, he's modest about using his tongue, but it soon swipes against you a few too many times, pleading for entry. his eagerness becomes increasingly evident when he delivers a slight but sharp tug at your hair that causes your lips to part and his tongue to freely swipe at yours.
fuck, everything he does is so hot, and you're suddenly bursting with the need to get closer to him in any way possible.
without breaking the kiss, you reach to move the popcorn to the bedside table behind you, hoping it doesn't fall although you can't be bothered to care if it does. slowly, you move to straddle him, the skin at your waist heating up under the contact of his guiding hands that place you right over his lap.
by now, there's a growing arousal between your legs, made so much more apparent when his hardened cock brushes against your cunt and you feel how cold your wetness is, pressed flush against you. it doesn't help that he's feeding breathy whimpers into your mouth.
unintentionally, you whine out the pet name in return, and he pulls away for the first time, checking if he heard you correctly. baby: four letters and he instantly feels his heart rattle against his ribs.
"holy shit, say it again."
"fuck, baby, please."
"please what?" his eyes stare into yours—deeply, attentively, like an unbreakable trance—he's hanging on your every word, disposable to fill any demand.
with a soft batting of your eyes, you mutter, “kiss me,”
he doesn't need you to ask twice; a guttural growl leaves his throat and mark dives back in to capture your lips, bucking up to rub his erection into you. with a seemingly insatiable hunger, your hands start busily exploring his chest and shoulders, clawing at his shirt running through his hair, grabbing everything you can reach. your fingers slide up from the expanse of his shoulders to his locks, where they settle, allowing you to pull him even closer.
in this moment, mark is thinking about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. turns out, he didn’t imagine your affection, it was really there the entire time. his mind is racing; he thinks about how the swell of your breasts feel against pressed against his chest, how your tongue licks his teeth and wets his lips, meanwhile you're grinding yourself down to feel more of him— sure, you two were already on the same page about one thing, but there’s still an issue at hand, an issue that won't leave his mind even with all the wonderful things distracting it.
when the air is beginning to run short in his lungs, he pulls away again, chest heaving. leaving his forehead pressed to yours, he mumbles out a question that makes you instantly dizzy.
"do you wanna do this?"
you quickly nod, but the weight of his question isn’t clear.
"no, like, do you want to do this,” he emphasizes what he means with an index finger that points between you and his implication clicks. the sigh the breezes past your lips makes his shoulder’s immediately tense up. mark fears he may have completely ruined the moment. that is, until you answer.
"i think so," you nod slowly, taking him by surprise. a small smile sits on your lips, thumb coming up to swipe his cheekbone affectionately. he leans into your touch as you continue, "we can talk about-"
"-no, because there's no way that you actually think the earth is flat." distantly, a set of voices are heard, along with the sound of the apartment door closing. the first belongs to jeno, obvious despite the way it's muffled.
"i'm just saying, bro, there's a possibility."
"you're actually an idiot, donghyuck, oh my god," their footsteps are rapidly approaching, heading straight towards you.
"watch, i bet you mark agrees that-"
you and mark don't have time to scramble off of each other before his bedroom door swings opens with a thud. simultaneously, you both turn to face the boys who skid their heels to a stop, taking in the scene before them.
hyuck's eyes widen, but he masks his shock by simply striding inside and letting his hands sit at his hips, "woah, what did we just interrupt?" his tone is mocking and accusatory, and jeno rolls his eyes.
"oh, we were just-" you finish climbing off of mark, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
the boy looks between the two of you and the tv, nodding in understanding, "netflix and chilling?'"
jeno shakes his head, "i don't think they got to the chilling part, hyuck."
"then it looks like we got here just in time. got room for two more?" he scoffs playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at his own lewd comment that more than likely, isn't a joke. at your silence, the youngest boy sits at the edge of the bed, ready to state his case.
"i know how that sounds," he sputters quickly before you or mark can object, "but seriously, think about it: it’ll be full circle! we started with the kiss, then i proved i'm the best at head, and now we can- ow!"
you've lost count of the amount of times jeno has had to smack him over the head recently. "what hyuck is trying to say," he explains, "is that he's a horny fuck who can't keep it in his pants. come on, bro,"
mark snorts, slightly amused at the situation. he can tell you're a little flustered from being caught, even more from being proposed such an offer. he knows hyuck can be quite relentless.
the boy in question shrugs off the hand that jeno placed on his shoulder to pull him away, stubbornly whining out, "you're telling me you're not even a little bit curious about what it's like to fuck all of us at once? think about it, princess. we'll be at your disposal, again."
no because when you put it like that...
fuck, fuck, fuck.
how do you always find yourself back in the same situation? in fact, why are you even considering this?
your first instinct is to turn around and look at mark, since you're not entirely convinced that after tonight's confession he'll be jumping at the chance to share you. the two of you are stuck between friends and something more, as a result of the boys interrupting before you could continue your conversation. still, there's no denying what you feel for him.
it's not any less true that your panties are soaked and ruined at the mere idea of having all of them in palm of your hand, competing to pleasure you for the third time. even so, your decision remains an easy one: if mark isn't okay with this, then you aren't either.
you want to prove to him that you're serious about him, not blatantly disregard him and agree to hook up with his friends right after he told you about his feelings.
when your eyes land on him, however, whatever resistance you're expecting to see is nowhere to be found. mark's slumped posture implies he's completely relaxed, and he's looking back at you through a low-lidded gaze.
“what do you think?” you ask him timidly.
“is this something you wanna do?” he no longer refrains from touching you in front of the boys, letting his hand reassuringly slide under your shirt and the tips of his fingers rub circles on your lower back.
shuddering under his touch, you blink, “is it alright with you?”
the fact that you’re even checking with him reinforces that you really do like him. it boosts his ego, gives him a certain sense of ownership over you. now, he knows that if he told you he wanted you all for himself, you'd be his without a second thought.
surprisingly, there's a lack of jealousy bubbling in his chest; the idea of you bouncing on his best friends' dicks doesn't bother him. if anything, it pushes him to fuck you even better.
if they can make you moan, he'll make you scream.
"if you want to, i don't mind doing this one more time," his lips curl up to small smile, "but it's the last time."
when you turn back around, hyuck can't seem to contain his bubbling excitement. laughter rumbles in his chest, a devious expression taking over his features.
even jeno, who originally wasn't as persistent with the idea, is taking long steps over so that he can quickly come up to stand beside where you sit. it's not in his nature to overstep boundaries or even push them, and you've noticed he always seems more apprehensive when things escalated to this point. weirdly though, despite his initial shyness, he always seems to surprise you.
unlike mark and hyuck, he wears a bit of a nervous smile, but you can still see the outline of him in his pants where he grows harder and harder.
you shake your head, laughing breathlessly, "you're all crazy."
"maybe. but if that pussy feels half as good as it tastes..." hyuck trails off, licking his lips, "what do you say, princess?" he leans closer until he's slightly hovering above you, propping himself up on his hands. he's not shy about the way he gawks at your lips with unfaltering focus, waiting for them to mold and utter a yes.
so you give him exactly what he wants.
between your legs, your clit throbs, and you don't know it, but the innocent, doe-like look in your eyes makes the precum leak angrily from his tip.
the word has barely left your lips before hyuck leans in, pressing his lips to yours roughly. the first thing you notice is that it's so different from your recent kiss with mark. hyuck has always been greedy with his affection, that much you know, but it's made painfully obvious in the way he kisses you now—it's like he's in a frenzy, edged on by how hard you make him, furiously turned on and desperate to sink himself in your folds.
you were so busy molding your mouth into his that you almost missed the sensation of all their hands on your body, each with a different placement and intention. one of hyuck's hands made its way between your legs, palm pressing into your clit while the other grabbed his own erection to grope it over his jeans.
on your left, jeno comes in, rolling your shirt up so that your boobs are exposed, nipples boldening when the cool breeze hits them. his thumbs flick the buds distractedly.
mark groans quietly from behind you, squeezing the skin on your ass and thighs between his fingers before running his hands up and down your spine. he sits up to remove your shirt.
you and hyuck break the kiss for a moment as the material comes up and over your head, and he takes the opportunity to remove his own shirt, but before he can dive back into the sanction of your lips, jeno's grip on your throat turns you to him.
he lets his mouth brush over yours, a thumb tugging your jaw down. you're practically panting in his face, and you may have otherwise been embarrassed if he didn't look to be so absorbed.
"i'll try to be gentle, but every time we end up back here," his breath is hot, "i get the urge to ruin you."
indeed it seems that he plans to surprise you this time around, too.
there is such intense fervor and impatience burning though your veins right now, and his provocative words aren't helping. you want to be devoured right now, to have your clothes ripped off so that you can be used.
he casts his gaze all over your features, "speak up. what's running through that pretty little head of yours?"
you speak with the absence of shame, letting the need drip off your lips, "i want you to make me feel good,"
"you're so fucking hot, fuck," he praises, voice resembling a growl. an involuntary whine escapes your throat, perhaps out of frustration because he's still teasing you with a kiss, or maybe pleasure, since hyuck's hand is still rubbing into your core, setting you aflame with want.
or, it's could very well be because behind you, mark's hot tongue has started sliding across your skin, over your shoulder and into that sweet spot where your collarbone meets your neck.
"alright," mark breathes the words into your skin, pulling you slightly toward him, "i go first."
hyuck is quick to object, getting up on his knees, "why should you get to go first?"
"i don't know if you recall," the clanking of his belt being unbuckled makes you drool, "but you two interrupted us,"
"wait," you insist. mark looks at you expectantly, pausing his movements, "let me,"
something about the way his eyes flutter, softening as he watches your fingers inch closer to the waist band of his pants, drives you absolutely mad. it tugs at your heartstrings to see his cheeks so flushed, his features suggesting that he's both taken aback and contented by your sudden initiative.
you're basically crawling over to him now, lowering your face so that you're eye-level with his crotch and your ass is up in the air—don't worry, this new position doesn't go unnoticed by the other boys.
while you busy yourself tugging down his jeans so that they're looped around his upper thighs, jeno mirrors your actions. in less than two seconds, your shorts are slipped down and pooling where your knees meet the mattress, leaving you in only your panties.
when haechan reaches to slide it off, jeno's blocks him, "not yet. look at this," a single finger prods you, swiping down the tiny piece of fabric that covers your folds. he's pointing out the blotch of wetness to the other boy, a darker shade than the rest of the material around it.
mark's eyes are set on you, unmoving, watching the way your comparatively small hand wraps around the shape of him. he had made you feel so good last time, and because you were unable to return the favor then, you felt the need to impress him now—you wanted to see his eyes roll back as he came down your throat.
in an effort to tease him just a bit, your tongue darts out, licking a stripe across the outline of him over the black boxers he's wearing. his pouty lips form an 'o', right hand brushing your hair from your eyes.
"quit teasing and take this off for me, baby."
obediently, the tips of your fingers hook his waistband and pull it down, letting his hardened length spring free. your eyes widen slightly, meeting his, and the first thing you notice is that all of him is pretty. tussled hair, soft eyes, hollowed cheeks that suck in a breath, pink tip that glistens with silky pre-cum.
you waste no time, letting your lips slide against him, tongue collecting every drop of his arousal. as soon as your hand wraps around his base, he lets out a hiss through his teeth.
as much as you'd like to keep your focus, it proves to be slightly difficult, considering the way jeno's fingers are rubbing you, still refusing to discard the last piece of clothing that remains covering you. he's simply spreading your wetness, getting off on the fact that you're so aroused and barely anything has happened yet.
"you like that?" hyuck asks you.
you can only hum, lips wrapped around mark's slit. he hisses again, bucking up at how sensitive he is while your sounds vibrate against him.
"we should prep her," jeno thinks out loud. you clench around nothing at the thought, "how else is she gonna be able to take all three of us?"
"let me take her panties off,"
"no," he simply tugs them to the side, exposing your slit.
hyuck huffs with exasperation, "why?"
"don't you wanna watch her panties get ruined?"
from the silence, you can only assume that he's been convinced. before you know it, one of jeno's long digits is pushing into your entrance. you lift off of mark with a pop, letting out a soft moan.
it's been months since you've had sex, so you're grateful that they've decided to ease you in. you don't know how you would've handled the burning stretch otherwise, especially now that you've seen mark's impressive size.
jeno pumps in and out of you slowly, watching the way his finger becomes coated with your juices. you cry out as he adds another finger, then another.
returning to the task at hand, you replace the thumb rubbing mark's head with your mouth, sinking down as far as you can until he's disappeared past your lips.
"oh, yes, baby, just like that. your throat feels so good," he whimpers, slurring over his words. he didn't know if he was better off grabbing a fistful of the sheets or of your hair so he greedily settles for both. gathering all of your hair with his right hand, mark tugs you up.
when you gasp loudly, he gently coos at you, "breathe, baby. remember to breathe."
you nod, although you're not sure you properly processed the information. the feeling of jeno's three fingers curling in your core and hitting so deep inside of you have your mind a bit preoccupied. mindlessly, your eyes flutter closed.
"look at me, pretty baby."
with a hum, you oblige, blinking at him. your face is pinched in pleasure, your orgasm approaching quickly, but you're determined to pleasure him. you take his cock in your mouth again, cheeks hollowed as you bob up and down, taking care to swirl your tongue long the bottom of his shaft.
"ohh-aah."
you pop up for air once and mark thinks he might get a break, a second to admire the string of saliva that connects his tip and your lips, but you don't give him that liberty, quickly sucking him off again.
it's his turn to gasp now, a low groan rumbling in his throat. when his eyes close, you stop your movements, breathlessly retorting, "look at me, baby" just as he had said to you moments ago.
what were you doing to him...
mark smirks, tongue pressing into his cheek. he only manages to uphold this amused expression for a second, because when your nose bumps against his base again makes his teeth clamp down on his lip.
and when you swallow around him-
he quickly pulls you up by your hair, "don't do that again or i'm gonna come,"
"but baby, i want you to come-"
"no." mark pants, "i wanna be inside of you before i come."
your hand is still pumping him, subconsciously matching the pace jeno has sets with his fingers in your cunt. there's a wet squelching sound from between your legs, and your thighs beginning to shake.
jeno curses, landing a slap on your ass, "fuck, i feel you clenching around my fingers, you're so tight."
what sends you over the edge is a perfect combination of a few different things: jeno maintaining his speed, knuckle deep in you, hyuck taking his thumb to rub circles on your clit, and mark, even when dazed from the way you we're just pleasing with your mouth, holding your face in his hand, a string of encouragements and praises leaving his lips.
"come, baby, please. i wanna see your face as you come."
"oh, shit, shit, shit-i'm-" the pressure in your stomach snaps and cuts you off. your hips instinctively begin to roll back desperately until you're basically grinding yourself into the boys' fingers. for a moment, you cant make any sound, just letting out labored breaths in the midst of your blinding bliss.
but, as you start to come down, you realize the boys haven't let up, and you finally find your voice when the pleasure slips into overstimulation, leaving you a fidgeting, whining mess, clawing at mark's shirt for any way to ground yourself.
he takes your hands into his, admiring the sight of you overwhelmed so early into the night.
jeno draws his fingers back, instantly bringing them to his mouth where he sucks them clean.
"she's ready for you," hyuck smirks, "and you were right," he turns to jeno, gesturing at your underwear and the enlarged stain that keeps spreading as your juices continue slipping out. he uses both hands to spread your ass cheeks, "this was a sight worth waiting for."
mark slides off the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt off in the process. he doesn't bother fully taking off his pants or underwear.
"c'mere"
you scoot closer, bringing your legs together so he can slide your shorts up and toss them aside. then, with no hesitation, mark spreads your legs with both hands, hungrily taking in the sight of your wet and slick core.
there are so many nerves bubbling in your stomach right now. with the way he's staring at your figure, you swear you're about to burst into flames. the tiniest details of his being are absolutely the most mind-blowing. there's a single drop of sweat sliding tentatively down his long torso, lean and defined. his chest keeps rising and falling quickly, and you can tell from the way he looks you up and down that he, just like you, is trying to soak up every last detail of how you look.
he thrusts into his hand a few times before guiding his tip towards your folds where he slides himself between your lips, poking at your bundle of nerves time and time again. he rubs himself into you, teasing incessantly until your back arches and pleads are falling from your mouth.
"please, mark, please.."
he sucks his teeth, "please what?"
"i wanna feel you,"
and he complies, cause he's so lenient when it comes to you. he gives you a small nod that tells you he's satisfied with your response, then slips just the tip in. you had started to moan out but as soon as he pulled himself back, you end up whimpering instead.
"shh, baby, i know, i know," he bends down to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes close, pushing himself in again slowly, "i don't wanna hurt you."
after a few more patient thrusts, he bottoms out inside of you. your stomach tightens at the feeling of being full of him, deliciously stretched out and warm.
when you blink your eyes open, you notice that beside you, hyuck has pulled off his jeans and is kneeling in his underwear with his dick out, rubbing himself and spreading his leaked pre-cum over his swollen tip. he's clearly frustrated, cheeks red and bottom lip puffy from biting at it.
jeno hasn't taken his length out yet, but you can't imagine it would take him much longer. the tent in his pants, constrained by the black denim of his jeans, must be killing him.
you reach out to help hyuck and the boy shudders before you've even grasped him in your palm. he's sensitive, crying out quietly for you to give him more. for a second, you consider laughing, the peculiar sounds taking you aback.
hyuck who's normally a smart-mouthed menace is suddenly begging for you to please him?
irony aside, you happily adhere to his pleas, spitting in your hand so that it's easier to slide up and down his length. he’s a mess by the fourth or fifth stroke, leaning his weight back on his palms as he struggles to not blow his load yet, especially with the way jeno squishes and plays with your boobs.
he’s for sure a boob guy, constantly fondling them and tugging on your nipples until you wince. you suspected it since the last time, but it’s rather obvious now.
hyuck is intently watching everything, practically thrusting into you to increase the friction.
between your legs, mark rocks his hips a little harder, enough to graze a spot inside you already so sensitive from jeno’s fingers. you sigh out, reaching for him with your free hand to pull him closer.
when he fucks into your spot again, you clench, making his movements buffer momentarily. “oh, my god.” he sighs out, gripping your waist tightly.
“you’re so deep,” you're drinking up every last moan from him, hyuck, and jeno, the last to unbutton his pants. he releases his dick from the white boxers brief's and as the air hits it, his head falls back. you don’t refrain from marveling at the sight.
as mark moves to push down on your lower stomach, your eyes roll back.
"mark, baby, fuck," truthfully, mark doesn't know what he did in a past life to deserve this. you're sucking him in so tightly, your walls gripping him with no intention to let go. under his palm, he can feel where the head of his cock hits inside you. the layer of sweat on your face makes you look like you're glowing, and your soft hair is fanned out around your face, like that of a halo.
"yeah, you like that?"
you nod breathlessly, breasts bouncing up and down as he pounds into you. the hand that wraps around hyuck’s dick begins to lack consistency as you lose yourself in the feeling of mark in you. desperately, hyuck rushes to place his hand over yours and guide you up and down.
there's a coil about to break within you, your second orgasm hurling toward you with no plan to stop.
you're foggy, dizzy—the only thought in your mind is how intense the ecstasy is, how good you feel in this moment. your walls squeeze tighter and tighter until you announce:
“oh, i'm gonna come-"
"baby," he slows down, speaking softly "not yet."
"what?" you lean up, lids snapping open, "why?" your orgasm is ripped away from you as he pulls out, leaving you writhing and empty. you're left fluttering around nothing, yearning for release.
"i don't wanna tire you out before they have their turn," he looks to jeno and hyuck.
in disbelief, you pout, pulling him closer by his forearms, "but i wanted you to-"
"i will," he kisses you, momentarily calming your mangled cries, "believe me, baby, I wanna come with you. let's let them have a go, yeah?"
you shakily nod, still mourning the feeling of having him filling you up. nonetheless, in an effort to be good for him, you sit up and turn to hyuck, who's been edging himself for the last few minutes.
"fucking finally," he groans, realizing that your gaze trailing down to his cock, tells him it's his turn.
wasting no time, he scoots up to lay down on the bed and up you go to follow him, crawling over so that you're straddling his lap, only a few inches above his throbbing erection.
he urges you to come down and jeno tsks, shaking his head, "both of you are so impatient."
your entrance is already so wet that when your fingers direct his tip there, you’re able to sink right down, both of your heads rolling back at the relief.
"i want you to ride me," hyuck sighs out, gripping your hips to roll you against him. knowing that it would only heighten the experience, you reach for jeno's shoulder, bringing him closer. he's quick to reciprocate, pressing his lips to yours as his hand holds the back of your head. at first, he only rests it there, but as your hips roll faster and the moans start resonating in your throat, he pulls on the strands he grips.
"is this okay?" he murmurs, giving another test tug.
"yes," you breathe out quickly, nodding, "yes, jeno."
you hold yourself up on hyuck's bare chest, nails digging into his skin. he's especially deep inside of you because you're sitting on his lap and every sway of your hips provides your clit with friction as it rubs against his pelvis.
progressively, his and your moans get louder as both of you get sloppier. jeno busies himself by mercilessly fisting your hair, studying the way he can make you gasp out and wince.
mark is droopy-eyed, leaning in to kiss your shoulder blade.
“yes, ride me just like that. fuck, i think you’re close cause you’re-“
“i am close,” you confirm, jaw slack.
“use me, princess. keep using me until you come all over me,”
god, you want to, but the burn in your thighs is becoming unbearable. you slightly whimper “i can’t,” and hyuck starts with pleading with you, begging you to keep going.
“m’so tired, hyuck,”
you’re starting to sweat, legs weakening with every time you try to urge them to move.
hyuck realizes that you are indeed struggling, and he grips your hips tighter.
“it’s okay, i got you,” with an unsteady thrust up, hyuck manages to lift you enough to buck his hips up into you at an impossibly fast pace, chasing his own climax and prepared to deliver yours. within a few seconds, you’re coming again.
jeno tightens the grip on your hair and your high suddenly hits you that much harder—even as you come down, you’re floating, reaching back for mark who whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he drags his lips along your cheek, lazily kissing you.
“oh, shit—i’m gonna-“ hyuck slips out of you, using his hand to stroke himself until he spews his milky white liquid into his stomach, trembling below you.
“do you need a second?” mark wonders, looking over your body that glistens with perspiration. you shake your head, though it’s not very convincing.
“no, i can keep going.”
jeno lightly brushes your hair over your shoulder, his hold on it loosening when your orgasm came to a end. now, he settles for rubbing soothing circles onto your smooth skin.
"i'll be good to you, yeah? i'll take it easy." he assures you, helping you climb off of hyuck who's just barely beginning to regain his composure, dick still twitching where it lays on his stomach.
jeno practically carries you, placing you on the side of the bed that was unoccupied. as mark lightly blows cool air in your face, jeno takes his shirt off, kneeling on the bed so that he's right behind you, your back pressed to his chest. like this, you're sandwiched between both boys, your exhaustion quickly fleeting as you feel their skin against yours.
shaky fingers come up to hold mark's shoulders, and he sweetly kisses you. as you arch your back, you can feel how jeno's hard and potent tip brushes between your folds, teasing your entrance.
even though you're sensitive, you're still dripping with need. your essence is coating your thighs and mark's sheets, and now, jeno's dick, which he slowly seeps in.
you whine into your kiss with mark, breaking apart to lean your head back onto the broad chest against your backside. both pairs of hands are roaming your skin freely, and you're unable to distinguish whose is whose or predict where they'll go next. you settle for savoring every touch and grasp they leave in their wake.
you can tell jeno is reading your body language, interpreting each gasp and reaction you give so that he can speed up when you're ready to take all of him.
"you can go faster," your permission comes out mumbled, but you’re too restless to sit at this speed. he hisses at the way you wiggle around temptingly, walls massaging him. he never thought you’d be so warm and so, so wet. it takes him biting his cheek to not bust right then and there.
bringing a hand down to your ass, he gives you exactly what you want, grunting with each thrust, slamming into you at an angle that makes your breath get caught in your throat.
there are stars swimming on your eyelids from how hard you're squeezing them shut, your hips subconsciously pushing back to meet jeno's with shameless desperation, needing to feel him closer.
everything about the scene is so lewd: the sounds of your skin slapping against each others, the bed creaking rhythmically in accordance with jeno's thrusts, the drops of sweat that slide down his chest and side burns and make him glisten, even in the dim light...
mark begins lowering himself so he can take your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing the bud till it darkens and perks up, brings his fingers to your clit to rub you.
your mind is clouded with lust, vision is fuzzy and glazed; it's like something out of a dream. both of your forearms are held behind your back in one of jeno's large hands while the other one wraps around you, holding your neck and tilting your head back so that he can look at you. when he isn't watching your face, admiring the way it contorts in pleasure, he's kissing and sucking the skin on your neck.
and the sounds he makes as he fucks you? otherworldly.
the grunts he's delivering to your ear are delectable and you involuntarily clench around him, yelping out when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder at the way your walls squeeze his cock.
"shit, jeno!" you breathe out when mark lifts his fingers, dipping them into your mouth. when you lick them clean, he places them back where they were, leaving you a shuddering and fidgeting mess. jeno stills his movements, pushing himself as far into you as possible. "oh, god, you're so deep," you mewl.
with a smirk on his face, he slowly starts moving again, spreading your cheeks so he can watch the way his cock sinks into you time and time again, disappearing between your wet folds. just the sight makes him twitch.
"i'm close," he warns, twisting your hair around his wrist and pulling you close to kiss your cheek affectionately. you nod weakly in agreement, leaning into his touch. though you’re unable to utter a single intelligible word in response, a series of quiet whines leave your lips as you sit on the verge of your third orgasm.
"is he fucking you good?"
you nod at mark's question, reaching for his hands again.
"i wanna come on your ass,"
"p-please," your voice must sound no better than pathetic by now.
your stomach churns on cue as mark's speeds up his motion, teasing your throbbing and puffy clit until you find yourself gushing around jeno's dick, walls fluttering from overstimulation. it's well worth all the sensitivity, because you’re coming so hard.
god, and you still have another orgasm awaiting you.
you're suddenly being bent over as jeno puffs and huffs, sliding out of you and working himself until his hot cum covers your ass and back in stripes. he pants loudly, teasing himself until every last drop has been emptied and your covered in his release.
"yup. that was hot. i'll be back, i'm gonna go clean up," hyuck pipes up for the first time in a while, tapping his hand to his stomach to watch how his load sticks to his fingers in webs. he scoots off the bed and leaves, presumably to the bathroom.
"you gonna clean up, too?" mark asks.
jeno shakes his head, still heaving breaths, "nah, not yet." his eyes land on you but mark quickly shakes his head.
"we're gonna wrap it up here, i think," mark explains, holding you up by your waist, "i don't think she can take any more,"
"i can," you stubbornly argue, "mark, you haven't even finished, baby."
between your bodies, his dick is standing as tall as ever, red and inflamed and knocking against your lower stomach. he's undeniably rock hard, and you'll be damned if you don't get to watch the look on his face when he orgasms.
"it's okay. i can take care of it myself. you-"
you lean in to kiss his jaw, cutting his words short. when he stops talking, you bring your lips to his ear, you whisper, "i want you to come inside of me,"
his eyes widen, and you catch the way his cheeks get red when you lean back. his reaction makes your heart beat faster, and you reach to hold his face.
"are you sure?" the shock dwindles into concern again.
"if i was too tired," you peck his lips, "i would tell you. i'm sure that i want this." he grins softly, scooping you up by your thighs to lay you on the bed, diving on top of you and situating himself between your legs. he's still kneeling, and in order to kiss you, he has to lean over, lips landing on yours with so much delicacy that it takes your hand on the back of his head for him to sense that you want more.
your other hand reaches to grab his length, slowly pumping it. as you run it up and down, his breathing changes and he moves to kiss down your chest. effortlessly, mark picks you up again by your hips so that your head is the only part of you still resting on the bed.
you're so filled with desire that you moan even before he touches you. he doesn't make you wait long, though, wasting no time and guiding himself to your entrance, sopping wet and ready for him. as he directs your hips closer, you help tilt his tip down. finally, he's inside of you again with a shiver and the sexiest drawn out groan, stuffing you full.
his jaw tightens instantly at the pressure of you squeezing around him, and when he speaks, it's through gritted teeth, "you're so wet," he moves with caution since you're still hypersensitive, "and after how many times you've been fucked tonight, you're still so fucking tight. shit, i can feel you sucking me in."
slowly but surely, he starts picking up the pace, working you until sweat droplets are sliding down the side of his face.
he's fucking into you so mindfully, making sure that he pulls out enough to see most of his head, then pushing in so far that you're flush against the base of him, jolting up when he hits a spot that's particularly deep.
every time that you cry out his name, his eyes flash up to yours, taking in your fucked out expression. your hair is a mess, makeup running just a bit. all of your features are scrunched up, mouth open and panting, and currently. you're holding a hand over your mouth, the other placed over his where it meets your hip.
damn, he could come at the sight of you like this.
and he does.
he's filling you up in more ways than one now, spilling into your cunt, grip tightening enough to leave bruises along your waist. he realizes in this moment that after today, there's no way he's not pussy-whipped by you.
how could he not be, when you were taking him so well? when you asked him to come inside of you?
he also realizes that you still haven't finished and his thrusts are beginning to stutter. voice strained, mark chokes out, "aah, shit. are you-?"
"just a little more, baby, please," your words are muffled by the hand on your mouth but he gets the message nonetheless, grimacing at the overstimulation of keeping up such a speed now that he's so sensitive. he keeps going, because he has to help his baby ride out her high.
your fingers dig into the sheets as your orgasm hits you, waves of pleasure flushing through your core. your face is red hot, vision blurred, cunt booming with a pleasure so intense, nothing like you've ever felt before. a mix of your wetness and mark's cum is coating his cock now, making a ring at the base of it and spreading all throughout his length. when he'[s sure you're done, he cautiously pulls out, watching as his seed leaks out of you.
"that was-," he pauses—inexplicable, heavenly, incredible, mind-blowing—"there's no word that even comes close."
when you look over, jeno had come a second time, the sticky white substance all over his hand and thighs. he resembled both of you, breathing heavily. you take in the sight of him through your lashes, shoulders are rising and falling, hair sticking to his forehead.
the bedroom door opens about half way, and hyuck pokes his head in, "i could hear all of you from the bathroom on the other side of the apartment. it was impressive, really. oh, and sincerely, i feel envious of your future boyfriend. that dude's gonna luck out." you can feel everyone's eyes on you, face getting red, "i'm gonna knock out. thank you for that, yeah?"
"yeah," you reply, offering a bit of an awkward laugh.
mark kisses your forehead and lips before getting up, pulling his underwear and pants up. he walks over to his drawer to grab a change of clothes for you as jeno gets up, too, dressing himself.
he gives you a nod, "stay here, okay? i'm gonna grab something to clean you up with."
it wasn’t like you really could move anyway, at least not yet. your thighs were burning, and if you tried to get up, your wobbly legs would give out.
as jeno leaves, mark brings over a folded shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear, setting them on the night stand.
“i’m gonna shower,” you lean up on your elbows, flashing him a tired smile. mark brushes your hair behind your ear, nodding.
“you wanna stay over, pretty?"
"i'd love to."
"good. wait for me, i'll be right back."
when he clicks open the bedroom door to leave, jeno is on the other side. he was about to reach for the handle. as mark shimmies out, the boy walks in, a warm, moist towel clutched in his hand.
you laugh as he shields his eyes, coughing awkwardly. "sorry, uh-is it okay if i-"
"jen, you're acting as if you didn't just fuck me. you've seen me naked twice now."
he lets out a little snicker, casting his eyes over you softly. when you reach for the towel, he shakes his head, "here, let me. can you sit up for me?" you do as he asks and he gets closer, "you have some- let me get that for you," trailing off, jeno holds your face as he gently wipes away the black smudges from your under-eyes.
you're simply looking up at him, but for some reason, when he meets your gaze, his ears go red. he really hopes you don't notice.
in an effort to hide how flustered he is, jeno moves away, going around the bed. you let out a little squeak, shivering when he starts wiping away some of the stickiness from your thighs and ass where he relieved himself earlier. then, he moves to the front, wiping between your legs with hesitance.
"why are you so nervous?"
he instantly tenses up, stilling his eyes on the bed instead of on you, "huh?"
"you're all... shy. i don't know. it just seems like after we do..." you look around, trying to find the right word, "well, this—you're a completely different person."
"oh," he looks like he wants the earth to swallow him, and you slightly pout at his reaction. maybe you shouldn't have said anything.
"you know what, forget i brought it up." you sigh gently, "it's not a bad thing, i swear, it's just... i don't want this to affect our friendship."
"it already has." he mutters defeatedly. as he finishes wiping you off, you take mark's old shirt, throwing it over your head so that you're not completely nude. his statement doesn't slip your mind, though. not at all.
"what? what do you mean?"
"the reason i get nervous," he starts, but it takes him too long to continue and you're interrupting him again, kneeling up and tugging him to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.
"if you didn't wanna do this, you could've said something, jen. i'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable or-"
"no, no. it's not that. like, genuinely, it's so far from that." he laughs lightly, finally finding your eyes. you immediately relax at the sound that rumbles from his chest.
"so, tell me." you shrug.
for a few seconds, jeno tries to organize his thoughts, but his efforts are futile. he can't remember a single time he didn't wish he could tell you what’s been on his mind. in fact, for the last six months, it's been the first thing that's popped into his head when the two of you entered the same room.
fuck, man. no matter how many times he's rehearsed the same speech, it's not any easier—especially not now. you look as pretty as ever, and it doesn't help that he's made you come around his tongue, fingers and cock-
spit it out, jeno.
"i like you."
if you were expecting to feel any bit of relief, think again.
the burden that was meant to be lifted is now immediately heavy on your shoulders, and you're convinced your face has gone entirely pale.
"i've liked for as long as i can remember. and it was easy to ignore at first, until the day we kissed.” his eyes fall to the ground, “for a while, i was so mad at hyuck because i didn't want to put myself through that if i knew i wouldn't be able to have you. b-but even then, i thought ‘i might be able to forget. it was a ten second kiss that was for a bet, you know?’"
oh, god. your heart beats so loud that for a second, you think he'll hear it.
"but then, after the night we were drinking after today... after today, i don't think i’ll ever be able to forget." his hand is paced over yours as he gulps, "i was even gonna ask if you wanted to stay in my room, but i know you and mark are close and i chickened out. i think-" he takes a breath, "i think i'm in lo-"
the door creaks open and mark walks in. saved by the fucking bell. "okay, i've got you some water, a towel, and i brought the sheets so that-"
before you can even open your mouth, jeno gets up awkwardly, slightly disappointed, too. he coughs, cutting mark off. "we'll talk later, yeah?" he walks past him without sparing either of you a second glace, consumed by embarrassment and leaving you to call after him.
"yeah, o-okay." you shout, but he doesn't acknowledge it.
no, no, no. there's absolutely no way that just happened.
guilt bubbles thickly in your throat, burning bitterly as your breathing picks up.
"baby?"
you need to go home. you can’t stay here, that much is obvious. moving to get up, your heels hit the floor and you clumsily stumble, mark reaching with his free hand to hold you up.
"woah," he waits for you to stand steadily, then turns, putting down the things he brought in on the dresser before taking long strides to return over to you. his hands rest on the back of your arms. "you're probably sore, yeah? do you want to- hey, hey." he notices the puddles beginning to pool under your eyes, "what's wrong? does something hurt?"
"no, it's-" you let out a shaky breath, reluctantly meeting his eyes, "it just sucks to be right."
"what are you talking about, babe?"
"stop calling me that." you shake your head. at once, mark's face falls—it absolutely crumbles, and so does your heart.
he mutters your name lowly, leaning so that he's at eye-level with you. with a heavy heart, you brush away his hands, wiggling out of his embrace and moving to grab your clothes that scatter the floor. he doesn't move to stop you, yet.
beyond confused, mark just watches you gather your things; his breath is caught in his throat, meanwhile his brain racks to piece together a single reason or cause for your behavior. he’s drawing blanks, though. everything was going so well.
after a few seconds of standing in the same spot, he speaks up, a hand reaching for your shoulder.
"can we talk about what happened? you just-"
“mark, nothing can happen between us.”
dumbfounded, he reaches out to stop you dead in your tracks this time, "what? why?" his eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pinched.
"it's too complicated,"
"no it's not. i like you, you like me. what's complicated about that? is it because of what we all just did? because i don't care about that, i told you it was okay and i meant it-"
“no, mark you don’t get it—“
“then tell me so that i can understand why-“
"jeno just told me that he had feelings for me!” it didn’t matter that you were whisper-shouting. the words carried enough trouble on their own without needing any volume to make them any clearer or alert the man of the hour, whose room was right down the hall.
you decided to keep his much more serious confession to yourself, the one where he almost professed his love. mark didn't need to know about that. it didn't matter now, anyway.
at your statement, his persistent rambling ceases.
"what?"
"while you were gone, he told me. so nothing can happen between us, and that's that."
he shakes his head in disbelief, tightening his hold around you when you attempt to break away again, "i'll talk to him. i'll explain that you and i are already-"
"no, you won't, and no, we're not, mark. drop it." you escape his grasp which weakens at your harsh proclamation. without a second thought or any elaboration, you’re sliding your shorts up your legs. hurriedly, you begin to travel the room, collecting your phone from the night stand, slipping your shoes on, and putting in your bag your previously discarded clothes and undergarments.
"baby, you're giving up on us before we've even begun,"
fucking damn it.
you halt your packing, turning to glare at him, though there isn’t much anger. it’s hurt that reads instead, reflecting the one in his own stare. "how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"
"what? so now you wanna go out with jen-"
you roll your eyes, rephrasing. "no. i'm asking: how would you feel if i started going out with jeno?"
begrudgingly, he grumbles, "terrible," under his breath.
"precisely."
maybe you indulged yourself too much. you always knew that if any of you caught feelings, things would get complicated.
jesus, you didn't think it would actually fucking happen.
if you even suspected this was a possibility, why did you let it get this far?
all of your belongings are gathered. your hair is tied back and your keys are in hand. your mind is racing, but there's not much you can do to help that now.
before mark can utter another word, you cast him one last, sad glance, and walk out the door.
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct reactions#nct smut#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream reactions#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream texts#mark x reader#mark lee fluff#jeno fanfic#lee jeno#haechan imagines#nct haechan#mark lee x reader#jeno scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct scenarios#mark lee smut#nct dream smut#jeno smut#hyuck smut#mark lee#haechan#nct hard thoughts#catboyieejeno's dk&t ˚➶ ｡˚
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
CADENCE: Part One
Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Audio Erotica Reader
Summary: Matt can't wait to get home to listen to your latest audio. He's a loyal subscriber, and you get him worked up like no one else does.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. Mutual masturbation (sort of), pillow humping, dirty talk, some light sacrilege. You know, THE GOOD GOOD. Reminder that you are responsible for what you see once you click "Read More".
Author's Note: I would like to thank the Academy (@bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms and @souliebird) for enabling this. Edited, but not beta read, we die like Ray Nadeem (RIP). ENJOY!
Divider by @saradika
Matt was sitting at his desk going over a deposition when his phone buzzed with a new notification. He had been waiting for word on something specific, so he switched his headphones from his laptop to his phone to see what it was. As soon as he heard the source of the notification, he slammed his laptop shut and started packing up his things to leave. Foggy heard the commotion from his office and came to check on Matt to make sure everything was okay.
“Hey, buddy. You okay?”
“Yeah, Fog. Just feeling a headache coming on. The seasons are changing and you know how that messes with me,” Matt replied as he stuffed his laptop in his bag.
“You want me to walk with you?”
“No, it’s okay, Fog. I can make it just fine.”
“Alright, buddy. But text me when you get home. You know I worry about you and your headaches,” Foggy called out as Matt walked out the door.
“I know, Foggy. But I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow, buddy!”
—--------------------------------------------------
Matt walked home as quickly as he could, resisting the urge to break into a full on sprint. Once he made it to his building, he dashed up the stairs two at a time, and threw off his jacket as soon as he shut his door behind him. He furiously loosened his tie as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and used the voice command to open up the notification once again. This time when he opened it, he was met with the sound of your voice.
“Hey baby, I missed you. Did you miss me?”
Your smooth and sugary voice went straight to his cock, so he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, stepping out of them on his living room floor. He palmed over the bulge in his black boxers and pulled off his tie before going to work unbuttoning his shirt as your voice continued to play through his phone.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I even had to excuse myself from a meeting to go touch myself in the bathroom, but I wished it was your hand. You know just what to do to make me feel good.”
Matt was so caught up in your voice that it took him a moment to realize he was now half naked in his living room, right on display in front of the window. Truthfully, he didn’t care if the neighbors saw him, but he grabbed his phone and went into his bedroom. He placed his phone on the nightstand, shed his boxers, and climbed under his silk sheets.
“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out as he slowly stroked his cock while you continued to talk.
“Am I turning you on, baby? I can see you’re getting awfully worked up in those dress pants. I’m getting pretty wet, myself. You’re so fucking hot. You wanna watch while I rub my clit?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Make those pretty noises for me,” he replied as if you were in the room with him.
You let out a moan as you rubbed your clit, and Matt swore he could hear how wet you were. He started stroking his cock faster and you moaned louder.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”
“Yes, come for me, sweetheart. Fucking scream for me.”
“But I wanna come with your cock inside me, so I’ll wait for you. I want you to feel me, and I want to feel you. Let’s come together, baby.”
Suddenly his hand wasn’t good enough anymore, so he sat up in the bed and stuffed one of his pillows between his thighs to straddle it. The cool silk of the pillowcase felt like heaven against his achingly hard cock that was dripping with precum and begging for release. He started counting the Hail Mary’s he was going to have to say later for this depraved act in his head, but in the moment, he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“You’re so big, baby. Do you think you’ll fit?”
“I’ll go slow, sweetheart, I promise. We can make it fit.”
Matt rolled his hips against the pillow at the same time you let out another moan, and he grabbed onto his headboard for leverage.
“You feel so good, filling me up so perfectly. Fuck me, baby”
“You feel good too. I’ll go slow at first. I want to feel you.”
“You’re not gonna hurt me, I can handle it. Just fuck me, baby. Please.”
“How can I say no when you asked so nicely?” he purred.
He quickened his pace as you continued making soft sounds of pleasure. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing: fucking his pillow while listening to audio porn and responding back to you as if you could hear him. But, he didn’t care. Once he accidentally discovered erotic audios, he couldn’t get enough, and you were his favorite creator. Your voice was like a drug to him, and he was always jonesing for another hit. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually fuck you instead of his pillow, but he would have to settle for this for now.
“Oh, fuck I’m so close. I’m gonna come baby. Are you gonna come too?”
“Fuck. Yeah, sweetheart I’m gonna come.”
“Come inside me.”
You let out a guttural, almost feral moan, and Matt screamed in tandem with you. His thrusts became more erratic, sweat was beading on his forehead, and he was white knuckling the headboard. He was getting closer with every sound you made, and he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.
“Oh, OH F-FUCK.”
“Yes, sweetheart. Oh yes, oh FUCK.”
His chest heaved, his breathing was ragged, and his hips stuttered into the pillow as he came hard. He collapsed backward onto the mattress, a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. “Shit,” he breathed out as he ran one of his hands down his face.
“Did you like that? Be sure to subscribe for more, and don’t be shy about leaving me a comment! Until next time, audiophiles…”
After a few minutes, Matt sat up and reached for his phone to close the app. He knew that pillowcase was ruined, but that could wait. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. As much as he loved your voice, and how turned on he got by it, he longed to have you in his bed so he could hold you afterwards, and maybe even join him in the shower.
When he was done washing the post-coital sweat off his body, he dried off and put on a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants, threw the defiled pillowcase in the trash, and sat down to leave you a comment on your latest audio that he got off to. He set his phone back on his nightstand, laid down in bed, and allowed his mind to wander about how you actually felt and how your skin smelled. Maybe one day he could find someone with a voice as gorgeous as yours.
—-----------------------------------------------
The “CLOSED” sign had long since been displayed in the door of the coffee shop, and you were finally done with your closing duties for the evening. Your boss said you were free to go, so you grabbed your bag and your jacket, said your goodbyes, and headed out to your shoebox of an apartment. You loved living in New York City, but it was expensive, and just being a barista didn’t pay the bills. No one knew about your “side hustle”, and you liked it that way. It was oddly empowering to you that you were a caffeine peddler by day, but you used your voice to get people off by night. It was perfect because you could have fun living out your own fantasies, but no one knew your face.
After scarfing down the take out you picked up on your way home, you sat down to check the notifications on your latest audio post. There were always lots of comments to sift through, but there was one username in particular that commented on every single audio you posted, and you always looked forward to their comments.
As you scrolled through the comments, you finally saw the one you were looking for: “rllygdlwyr commented: So hot as always, sweetheart. I ruined a silk pillowcase with this one. May have to start buying them in bulk if you keep this up.”
You laughed and bit your lip at the comment. Normally, subscribers calling you pet names would creep you out, but this one was loyal, and they pretty much paid for your take out habit with their subscription and their tips. As much as you hated to admit it, they kind of kept you going.
Once you were done checking your account and responding to comments, you took a shower, put on some slinky lingerie, and pulled out your favorite toys to make a new audio. According to their username, they were most likely a lawyer, so tonight you decided to try a little roleplay.
“I’m afraid I’m guilty, but is there anything I can do to lessen my sentence? I heard you’re a really good lawyer.”
#mandy writes#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock smut#matt murdock fanfic#daredevil fanfiction
865 notes
·
View notes
Note
Vi love your boobas! She will kiss them, lick them, suck them, sleep on them, everything!
When she’s come home from a long day, she just wants your boobs in her mouth! And you’ll be laying on the couch just talking to her about your day while she sucks<3
anon yes omfg get out of my brain!! <3 vi definitely has an oral fixation and loves to keep herself occupied with your tits in her mouth.
𝐕𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, mdni, cute little smutty drabble, tit sucking, nipple play, sexual themes, vi being needy
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @dropsofs4turn @hehatesmati @zethd @im-jinxs-trinket
𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
the tune of your favorite song blasts through your ears, your headphones blocking out the sound of any other unimportant disturbances. you move your head to the beat subconsciously, not even aware that you were moving and dancing while seated on your couch. you were scrolling through some app on your phone, nothing better to do than to burn time while you waited for your girlfriend to get home from work.
little did you know, she had just entered your shared apartment, and was standing back in the doorway, just admiring you so perfectly lost in your own little world. vi lived for little domestic moments like this, and she loved to come home to you blissful and upbeat.
not wanting to scare you, she slowly walks in front of the couch to be in your field of vision in your field of vision. the second you see her, your eyes light up in excitement and you fling yourself from the couch, not caring that your phone falls to the floor with a distinct clunk.
"vi! you're home! i didn't even hear you come in!" you squeal excitedly, running into her open arms.
"yeah cupcake, i'm home. missed you baby," it was a rough day for her at work, but she didn't want to think about that. not when she had her favorite person in her arms.
"c'mon, lets relax on the couch cupcake, didn't mean to interrupt you,"
...
your headphones and phone sat abandoned on the coffee table, your top and bra tossed aimlessly and recklessly to the floor.
your bottoms were left on, but nothing adorned your chest besides your necklaces and a series of wet hickeys across your neck and breasts.
your chest rose and fell with each breath and word expelled from your mouth, blabbering on about your day. you were detailed, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. as you described your eventful grocery spree or that morning, slurping and sucking sounds echo in the room, sourced from vi's lips enclosed around your tit, her hand pinching and teasing your other nipple. her spit and drool was all over your chest, but you couldn't care less. not when she looked so perfectly angelic and ethereal, her puppy dog eyes looking up at you ever so often to assure you she was listening while she lazily sucked and worshiped your tits.
the activity wasn't even foreplay for the both of you anymore, it became more of a peaceful daily ritual. sure, it was sexual, but it was more calming. it grounded vi after a tough day, and gave you time to rant to her and expel all your pent-up negative emotions from the day. it was beautiful and domestic more than anything.
vi lets out an occasional mhm, or quiet moan around your nipples as you recount the adventures of just that day, showing her agreement to your arguments with others, and getting lost in a hazy fog as she relaxes more than she's even been able to before.
eventually your fingers find their way to her hair, playing with the spiky ends and massaging her scalp. your nails scratch into her head, causing goosebumps to run down her body like insects crawling across her skin. she shivers a bit, but relishes in the pleasure of your hands.
she may come across as intimidating, overly dominant and even stubborn, but really, she just needs to be babied. she loves when she can be vulnerable with you, worship your body and play out all her desires while you pat her head and praise her for how good she makes you feel.
after at least an hour of vi curing her oral fixation with your beautiful chest in her mouth, you eat a quick dinner, haphazardly get ready for bed, and climb under the covers together, her head making it back to your chest once more. as you breathe softly, drifting off into the depths of your own mind, vi can only smile, as she herself falls asleep, close to your heart, the place she wishes to live forever.
#arcane show#arcane series#arcane netflix#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x reader smut#vi arcane smut#arcane drabble#arcane vi
914 notes
·
View notes
Text
💋ཾ ༚ MY STARGIRL
summary :: Your dear boyfriend Ethan Landry came rushing back from "econ" just to find you fresh out of the shower in your room with only a pair of underwear on. Too distracted with your music playing in the background you didn't hear him but instead heard the ringing of your phone. No caller id. Will you pick it up or just let it keep ringing?
warnings :: 18+ smut. Reader is a female. Use of profanity. Praise kink. Sorry if there's any typos, English isn't my first language.
word count :: 1.5k words.
I had a vision
A vision of my nails in the kitchen
You were in your room with only a newly worn red lace bra and panties on, as a towel laid neatly wrapped around your head. You just got out of the shower and had music playing in the background from your tv that hanged from the wall.
You were currently sitting in front of your vanity mirror doing your hair before applying your nightly skin care routine on.
You pumped out lotion from the container and smeared it all over your legs, making sure not to miss a spot. You reached up to your thighs before a ringing noise started echoing. Your phone was glowing a bright white as your room was dark, the only source of light was from your LEDs that were set on the color purple.
Not bothering to change into pajamas just yet you got up and reached over to your phone to see the number.
No caller ID.
You were smart enough not to answer these types of calls since it's always just some scammers talking about your bank account. But tonight you were more bored than ever, not having your boyfriend Ethan Landry around since he had a late night class at econ.
You swiped right to answer the call "Hello?"
A sudden raspy voice was heard over the phone.
"Hello y/n."
You put your free hand on your hip, leaning to the side a bit to stand comfortably. "Oh? So you know my name, that's good" You said in an almost teasing tone.
"Yes of course, why wouldn't I know such a pretty lady's name? In fact you look quite good tonight my dear."
You raised one of your eyebrows and quickly looked around your room to see if anyone was possibly lurking in the darkness. Finding nothing, you decided to check the last place in your room.
You stood in front of your drawn curtains, twirling a strand of hair with your finger. "You really think so?" You asked as you stepped closer to your bedroom window to open the curtains.
Scratching counter tops, I was screaming
You peered out and looked left and right but found no one. With a sigh you stepped back, closing the curtains again with your phone still next to your ear. Then came a whisper, it definitely did not come from your phone speaker but instead it came from right behind you
"Oh I know so."
Suddenly strong arms wrapped around your waist as a head filled with curls rested on your shoulder, cold lips smothering your neck with kisses.
"What happened to econ?"
"I had better things to do."
You chuckled seeing that he was still in his Ghostface outfit just without the mask on as it was in his hand. You shifted your hips a bit so that you could lean back against him but instead your ass was met with a hard and throbbing boner that Ethan must've grown when he was speaking to you on the phone.
You resisted the urge to tease him but failed. With one swift movement you turned around to face him with a smirk on your face. "Like what?" Ethan unwrapped his arms from your waist and instead rested his hands on your hips, pulling you closer towards him. He leaned into your ear and held the top fabric of your panties.
"You."
Ethan was quick to pull down your underwear, making you kick it off somewhere in your room. "Jump."
You were quick to follow his order and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walked over to your neatly made bed that was filled with pillows and soft blankets. He laid you down, hovering over you. His curls dangled in his face as he slowly made his way down to your already wet pussy.
He watched as your slick covered your folds. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he pushed your legs apart to make room for his head.
Ethan was always a shy and nerdy type of boy, an obvious virgin. But that all changed once he got with you, now his confidence was always through the roof when he's horny.
"I didn't even touch you yet and you're already this wet?"
You snickered at his words, kinda embarrassed knowing that what he said was true. "Oh shut up Mr ghost face."
Ethan furrowed his eyebrows and softly bit the inner corner of your thigh to tease you. This caused you to yelp and squeeze your legs shut, trapping his head in between them. He took this as his cue to start licking up your folds, sucking on your bundle of nerves from time to time.
Your fingers grabbed onto his curls from the sheer pleasure. You arched your back and peered down to only be met with the top of his head as his whole face was smothered in your dripping pussy.
Your legs were shaking, close to finishing on his face then suddenly Ethan stopped. A whine came out of your mouth, pulling his face closer looking for any type of friction.
"My girl, be patient for me."
Ethan untangled your fingers from his hair and crawled up towards your breasts. He pulled the fabric upwards to get a better view on your nipple. "Red was always my favorite color, especially on you." He said before putting your left breast in his mouth, sucking on it like a baby as his free hand landed on your right breast to fondle with it.
Ethan pulled back and licked your hard nipple, keeping his hand on your other breast. He looked up at you as you were already looking back down at him. He grazed his tongue up your chest, all the way to your neck to suck on the bare skin.
He left hickies and bite marks on your skin while his hand left the warmness of your breast and laid on your hip, moving up and down.
"Please Eth stop teasing me."
"Oh yeah? Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
"Need you in me."
With that Ethan was quick to pull down his boxers and line up his throbbing dick up to your folds.
"Do you want me to count down?"
Even at times like this Ethan was always careful and patient with you, knowing that it's painful for the first few seconds.
You shook your head and signaled him to continue. "No it's ok I trust you."
‘i trust you’
Those words hit Ethan's heart deeply making him slam into you causing a loud moan coming from you and Ethan. Your hands found their way onto his back, nails digging into his skin as Ethan thrusted deep into you.
Ethan watched you arch your back as he grabbed onto your hips to make you stay in spot so his dick could sink deeper into your warm hole. Ethan wasn't much on the thick side but he length on the other hand was a different story
"Eth I can't- it's too much"
And I shouldn't cry, but I love it, starboy
Tears filled your eyes as you stuttered from the overwhelming pleasure. Ethan hushed you and wiped away the salty tears that dripped down your rosy cheeks.
"Shh yes you can, you're taking me so well."
Ethan lifted your legs, putting them over his shoulders so he can thrust at a better angle. He leaned down closer to your face, pressing his lips to your parted ones. He shushed your whines with sloppy kisses. Ethan pulled back as a string of saliva connected between your lips and his.
Your legs started to shake around his shoulder, you were getting closer and closer to finishing on him. Ethan felt your walls pulsating around his shaft. "Go on pretty girl, squirt for me." Ethan placed his hand on your stomach specifically on the spot where his dick was making a bulge. He pushed down on it making you feel it more.
Soon enough a wave of pleasure hit you like a truck, your whole body was shaking. "Ah shit Ethan!" You moaned, hand gripping the pillow behind you as you squirted all over his lap and upper stomach.
Your juices were dripping down your thighs while Ethan continued his thrusts, chasing his own high. You felt him twitch inside of you as his pace quickened. He stuff his face into the crook of your neck before letting out a quiet whine.
You felt his hot cum ooze into you before he pulled out, carefully dropping your limp legs on the soft bed and collapsing beside you.
Ethan watched as your chest rose up and down, you were trying your best to catch your breath.
Your hair was messy as some strands stuck onto your sweaty forehead. Carefully Ethan picked you up into his arms, bridal style as he walked towards the bathroom to run a bath.
"You did well my love, I'm proud of you." He said while giving you a kiss on the cheek.
I just wanna see you shine 'cause I know you are a stargirl.
#jack champion x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry x you#ethan landry smut#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x y/n#ethan scream 6#scream#scream 6#jack champion#ethan landry imagine#scream 6 smut#scream 6 imagines#smut#Spotify
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
khriseajoyrosello-blog
Eyaaaa
thebestworlds-blog
In the Best Worlds
taegimood
brown eyes & moonlight
ekit70
ekit70
nupep12-shrooms
Nupep Shrooms