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girlgenius1111 · 1 year ago

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casts, broken arms, & snuggles

alexia putellas x reader - part of the mila verse :)

an accident at the park pulls alexia from training and to the hospital, where she finds both her girls not doing their best. everyone is very overwhelmed with their feelings, and maybe don't handle it the way they should. basically, protective panicked alexia and insecure reader. a bit of angst / injuries / concussions symptoms, mostly fluff.

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You knew Alexia would panic. There wasn’t much you could do about that. Especially not when the only way you had to reach her was through the staff. It was somewhat of a bad omen within the team, having a staff member walk outside with a phone call for you. It only happened in an emergency, and unfortunately, this definitely counted as an emergency. When one of the assistant coaches, Xavi, answered the phone, he seemed to be on the same page as you.

“Try to act calm, otherwise she’ll just freak out.”

“I am not sure there is much I can do to avoid her having a nervous breakdown.” Xavi stated. You heard him call Alexia over, and tried to shush the very upset almost 3 year old in your arms.

“Amor, what is wrong?”Alexia asked, practically tearing the phone out of Xavi’s hand as soon as she heard who was calling.

“Everything is fine, okay? There was just a little accident.” You began, speaking in a soothing, calming tone, the same one you’d been using on the baby.

“What kind of accident?”

“Meels fell at the park-”

“¡AY DIOS MIO!” Alexia shouted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Ale, breathe. She fell off the slide and I think her arm might be broken. She won’t let me touch it and she hasn’t stopped crying.”

“Broken?!” Alexia squeaked.

“Ow.” Mila whimpered, frowning unhappily at her arm from where she sat in your lap. “Hurts, Mama.”

“I know, baby.” You told her. “Ale, the ambulance is here to take us to the hospital do you-”

“What were you doing? Were you not watching her? Why weren't you watching her, why did she fall?” Alexia snapped.

You bit back the retort you had ready, knowing this was just a result of her fear for Mila. You weren’t happy with what she’d said, but that could be dealt with later. “We’re leaving now for the hospital. Meet us there.” You said coldly, before hanging up the phone without saying anything else. Alright, you were pretty upset, and you let it show. You had already been beating yourself up for what had happened, thinking the things that Alexia had said.

As you and Mila got loaded into the ambulance, you realized you hadn’t mentioned something important to your wife. No doubt, she was hauling ass to the hospital, so she’d find out soon enough.

-------

Alexia burst into the room in a flutter of chaos, throwing the curtain aside and looking around frantically. Mila was sitting in your lap, holding her arm awkwardly away from her body, while you ran your fingers through her wavy brown hair and tried to keep her calm. Both of you looked at Alexia when she walked in, her panic clear on her face. She was sweaty, still in her training kit, and her eyes were only on her daughter.

“Mila, mi bebé,” she said gently, moving closer to the bed.

“Mami!” Mila cried, a pout on her small face, holding her arm out for Alexia to see. She squirmed in your lap, trying to get closer to your wife, but you both made sure she stayed carefully where she was.

“Pobrecita,” Alexia murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing repeated kisses to her baby’s head. She stared hard at Mila’s already swollen arm, trying to stifle her own tears. You weren’t pleased with Alexia, but you weren’t particularly upset that she hadn’t even glanced at you, her attention fully on Mila. “What happened?”

Mila’s voice wobbled as she began to talk, reaching out with her good hand to grip onto a few of Alexia’s fingers.. “Fell! Off the slide. Mama tried to catch me, but now she has an ouchie too.”

Alexia’s eyes flew to you, seeing for the first time the towel and large ice pack pressed to the back of your head. Her heart sank. She knew before that she would have to apologize for what she had said, and now she knew she’d have to do even more groveling. Especially if the hurt look on your face was any indication.

“Amor,” she sighed, reaching for your hand. You pulled it away, refusing to make eye contact with her.

“I’m fine.” You dismissed. “Mila’s got a basic fracture, just a month or so in a cast to fix it. They’ll be in to put it on soon.”

“Mama needs stitches.” Mila whispered conspiratorially to her Mami.

Alexia’s face grew, somehow, even more upset. “What happened, mi amor?”

Still avoiding her eyes, you spoke quietly. “I was going to catch her at the bottom of the slide, but she stood up at the top and fell off the side.”

“And your head?” Alexia asked, leaning closer to try and inspect your injury. Mila looked up at you with concern, her expression matching her Mami’s almost exactly. Where Alexia’s fingers were gentle as they cradled your head, Mila’s were clumsy and clunky as she tried to run her fingers through your hair. It was something you did to make her feel better, and she thought that maybe it would make your frown go away, too.

“I tried to catch her in time, but I slipped and hit my head on the edge of the slide. And I didn’t really catch her.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed at that fact. Alexia would have caught Mila, you were sure.

“It’s okay, Mama, you tried your best!” Mila said encouragingly, parroting back something you and Alexia must have told her a hundred times. Her arm temporarily forgotten, Mila shifted so she could lean up and press a kiss to your cheek, before she snuggled closer to your chest.

Your wife’s eyes were stuck on your daughter, practically turning into hearts as she took in how sweet and caring her baby was. You couldn’t blame her; you felt the same. That you had created such a perfect little person would never cease to amaze you.

“Thank you, my baby.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you shifted, trying to keep Mila’s arm in a safe position. Every movement of your upper body sent waves of pain through your head, but you didn’t want Mila to know how upset you were.

“Mi amor, I-”

Whatever Alexia was about to say was cut off completely as the doctor entered the room, introducing herself to your wife, and beginning to talk Mila through the process of getting the cast put on. There were some tears, wiped away quickly by her Mami, as they began to wrap up her arm.

Once the nurses had taken over, and began adding the colored plaster to the cast, and Mila was suitably distracted, the doctor regarded you.

“Alright, let’s get that head wound taken care of.” She said kindly, motioning you over to a chair in the corner of the room. She stood by your head, beginning to clean the wound and prepare to stitch it up.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep your wincing to a minimum. Alexia watched on worriedly from her spot next to Mila, knowing how much you hated needles. The midfielder so wanted to comfort you through this, but she also didn’t want to leave Mila alone if she was still upset. So, she did what you’d spent many years helping her do, and communicated.

“Milabear? Can I go hold your Mama’s hand while she gets her stitches?” She whispered, heart melting at how Mila looked over at you, and nodded enthusiastically.

“Go help Mama.” She said bravely, feeling much better now that she had her red cast on her arm, and that the nurse had given her some goldfish. Mila munched away happily, her eyes trained on the TV hanging on the wall, and Alexia had never been more grateful for having such an independent and resilient child than she was in that moment.

Your eyes were still shut, a few tears escaping as you tried very hard to act like the adult you were. You startled a bit when Alexia crouched in front of you and took your hand. Opening your eyes, you tried to breathe deeply, feeling the doctor begin to thread the needle through the skin of your scalp. A small, rather pathetic whimper fell from your lips, and Alexia brought your hand to her lips, pressing kisses to the back of it. Her adoring gaze only made more tears fall, and you felt completely ridiculous.

“You are okay, amor. It will be over soon.”

Every tear that fell was gently swiped away by your wife. The doctor worked as carefully as she could, but there were still tugs on your skin that had shivers running down your spine, and your stomach churning. There was only so much Alexia could do to help, but luckily, it wasn’t a very large wound, and the doctor was done within a few minutes, cutting the excess thread and reaching for a white bandage. She wrapped that around your head, holding a piece of gauze in place, which really felt like overkill.

“Okay, done.” The doctor announced, removing her gloves and stepping away from your chair. Alexia’s earlier words forgotten, you stood shakily to your feet, allowing yourself to fall into your wife’s open arms.

“You did so good.” She whispered, smiling despite herself at the bandage wrapped around your head. You looked adorable, frowning up at her with tears in your eyes, looking somewhat like a disgruntled mummy.

“Mama?” Mila called from her spot on the bed.

You wiped at your eyes quickly, plastering a smile on your face as you walked over to your daughter. “Hi Meels.”

“All better, Mama?” She asked, reaching both of her arms out for you to pick her up, which you did easily.

“All better.” You confirmed, holding her as close as you could.

“Almost all better.” The doctor smiled, turning to your wife. “She has a mild concussion with the impact on the ground, so she’s going to need to take it easy for a few days. I am assuming you know concussion protocol, Ms. Putellas?”

“Yes, yes of course.” Alexia said, her eyes squinting with concern as she studied you. “I will take good care of her.”

“Me too!” Mila added, squirming in your hold until she could loop her arms around Alexia’s neck and shift over into her arms.

Your wife very hesitantly pulled you into her as the doctor left the room. You tilted your head to make eye contact with her, still with a small frown on your face. It was clear that you were still upset with your wife, but the determination in her eyes told you she’d do anything to fix it.

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Apparently, anything consisted of making you sit on the couch next to Mila, holding an ice pack to your head, and not daring to move. Your wife went from room to room, collecting anything she had determined you or Mila might need. It was endearing, but also somewhat frustrating when she’d appear to hand you something, and go flitting off before you could just ask her for what you really wanted: for her to sit on the couch with the two of you, and relax.

Stressed Alexia made you stressed, but you knew this was just how she was coping with what had happened today. Alexia always held a lot of guilt for the little moments she missed while at work; any milestone that Mila achieved while Alexia wasn’t around was downright painful for your wife. She was a protective person, and you knew she was even more bothered because both you and Mila were hurt, and she hadn’t been there to help either of you.

You and Mila sat side by side, heads moving back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. In fact, you were just watching Alexia disappear and reappear with Mila’s favorite toy, a blanket, your favorite sweatshirt, a snack, some water, more ice, more painkillers and 6 different pillows for Mila to rest her cast on. You were exhausted just watching her.

She appeared back in the living room like a ghost the minute you stood up, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders and gently pushing you back down onto the couch.

“Ale, just let me-”

“No! Sit.” Alexia insisted, ignoring the small giggle from her daughter.

You rolled your eyes, shrugging out from under her grip and standing anyway. “Alexia, I have to go to the bathroom. You can’t do that for me.”

Alexia had the decency to blush, at least. “Okay. I’ll walk you there.” She decided, grabbing your hand and beginning to escort you to the bathroom. Honestly.

Always her mother’s shadow, Mila got up too, and grabbed your other hand. “Mami I can-”

“No. Sit!” Alexia repeated, though with a small smile as she regarded her daughter. “Mila, you stay there. I can take care of everything.”

“But Mami-”

“No! I can help Mama, you need to rest.” Your wife said, ignoring the amused look you were giving her, too focused on the attitude suddenly radiating off your daughter.

“Mami. I have to go potty too.” Mila said exasperatedly. Ale blushed further, nodding as she allowed Mila to accompany you both towards the bathroom. You turned your snort of laughter into a fake cough, knowing that Alexia could be sensitive to being teased about her over protectiveness. And, well… it seemed Mila was holding her own in showing her Mami how ridiculous she was being.

Once you’d arrived at the bathroom door, which took significantly longer than was necessary due to your wife and her mini-me insisting on walking slowly so as to not aggravate your head wound. You indulged them, only putting your foot down when both of them began to follow you into the bathroom.

“No. Enough. I can do this myself.” You sighed, looking between both Alexia and Mila’s skeptical expressions.

“But what if-”

“Mama, I can-”

You interrupted both of them by shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. If you didn’t have a scar across your abdomen that told you that you’d birthed Mila, you’d be sure she was Alexia’s genetic clone.

------

The rest of the night consisted of overwhelming amounts of hovering, from your wife and daughter both. Alexia took turns fussing over you, and fussing over Mila, until you were sure you were going to make her sleep on the couch or something, before she suggested waking you up every 20 minutes and performing a cognitive test.

Alexia had just barely put Mila down in her toddler bed when she heard you call for her. There was urgency in your voice, but it was still obvious that you were trying to keep your voice down for Mila’s benefit. It had been hard enough to get the toddler to sleep; she had become suddenly very tearful once it was time for bed, because her favorite pajama shirt didn’t fit over her cast. It had taken one of Alexia’s t-shirts, around 45 minutes of cuddles, and 4 different stories, for her to finally settle.

“Alexia,” you whisper yelled, shutting your eyes as the dizziness got worse. You heard Alexia rush down the hall towards you and willed yourself to hold on just a moment longer.

Alexia ran into the room, seeing you with your head in your hands, sitting up in the bed. “What is it, amor?”

“I’m gonna be sick,” you managed, pressing a hand to your mouth as Alexia sprung into action.

“Okay, okay, just hold on one second.”

Just in time, Alexia thrust the bedroom trash can in front of you. You were sick, retching into the trash can uncomfortably. Your wife pulled your hair back, being careful to not jostle the skin around your stitches, tying it into a very loose bun. She rubbed your back soothingly, pressing kisses into the side of your head until you were done.

“Oh, amor, I am so sorry.” She murmured, taking the trash can from you once you were done. She was going to take it out of the room, but then she noticed the tears in your eyes, and decided that could wait until later.

You curled into her when she sat by your legs and pulled you into her arms. Within a second, you were sobbing brokenly into her shirt, incapable of resisting how comforted you felt when she held you.

Alexia whispered soft reassurances into your hair, beginning to think you were upset about more than just feeling so unwell. “Amor, is it your head? Or something else?”

You shook your head weakly into her chest, sucking in a few breaths before you tried to respond. “Meels broke her arm and it’s all my fault.” You said miserably.

“No no no, do not say that. It was not your fault, you did the best you could.” Alexia rushed to make you feel better, but that’s all it felt like; something she was saying just to make you feel better.

“You would have caught her.”

Alexia’s chest squeezed uncomfortably, knowing that she was partially at fault for how guilty you felt right now. Even if what she’d said had been in the heat of the moment, and it was just a reflection of how upset she was, of course you’d taken it to heart.

“It was an accident, mi amor. It is no one’s fault. Sometimes kids fall, sometimes they get hurt. It happens.”

“But Ale, it wouldn’t have happened if you had been with her. You’re just… so much better at this than I am.” You mumbled, refusing to untuck your face from Alexia’s shirt, even as she tried to get you to.

“That is so not true.” Alexia insisted. “You cracked your head open trying to make sure Mila didn’t get hurt. That is not something a bad mother does.”

You ignored her logic, wiping a tear away with that back of your hand. “You were right earlier. I should have been watching closer.”

Alexia shook her head again. “No. I was-“

“You blamed me then, what’s changed?” You snapped, not quite sure where all of these negative emotions were coming from, or why your mood was changing at the drop of a hat. Sad and guilty one second, angry the next. It wasn’t fair to Alexia, who was just trying to make you feel better, but there wasn’t any room for rationality in your jumbled head.

Luckily, your wife didn’t seem to take your words or your tone personally. Instead, she tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead, showing more patience than you were sure you deserved.

“I don’t blame you. I was terrified earlier, but that is no excuse. This was not your fault and I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. So sorry, amor.” Her voice was sweet and you could feel how sincere she was, just from the way her hand gently cradled your cheek.

Nodding shakily, you took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more than a little exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ale, I just-”

Alexia cut you off, though, placing her index finger over your lips. She looked stern again, like she had before when she was making sure you stayed on the couch and didn’t move. “It’s okay. No apologies. You are overwhelmed and hurt and exhausted. You need rest, we can talk about this more tomorrow if we need to.”

You nodded your agreement, shifting uncomfortably as you glared down at your pillows. Your head absolutely throbbed, and you hadn’t even tried to rest it on the pillow yet.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep.” You mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion when Alexia smiled cheekily at you.

“I do!” She said enthusiastically, quickly tucking herself under the covers and pulling you to lay on her chest. Your head was completely safe from any contact with anything, and you found so much peace in the steady thump of Alexia’s heartbeat in your ear.

She was a miracle worker, Alexia. Just when you thought you were going to explode with the amount of thoughts swirling around in your head, she quieted your brain with a few words and a few kisses.

Unfortunately, as comfortable as you were, sleep did not seem to be in the cards for either of you. At least, not yet. No sooner than your eyes had fallen shut, and Alexia had settled comfortably into the pillows did you both hear the creak of Mila’s door opening.

You exchanged a glance with your wife, keeping completely silent, knowing that sometimes Mila would come check on you both during the night, before heading back to her room. You heard her little steps padding down the hall, a small gasp, and then a loud thump.

Alexia was out of bed before Mila could even cry out. “Stay there!” She threw over her shoulder, causing you to sit back down on the bed with a grumble. You were glad Alexia hadn’t turned the light off earlier, as she sprinted carelessly out of the room towards your daughter.

“Mama!” Mila sobbed, her little voice breaking your heart. She wanted you, and it took everything in you to not go to her in that moment, knowing that Alexia would bring her to you.

“It’s okay, cariño, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, Mila’s cries becoming muffled by her Mami’s shirt.

Still, you could make out her next words very clearly. “I want Mama,” Mila demanded.

Alexia just shushed her, a few seconds passing before they both appeared in the doorway. Mila’s face was red and stained with tears, her cast cradled to her chest. She reached for you as soon as she saw you, and Alexia wasted no time in bringing her over.

“Careful, Milabear,” she reminded softly, handing the toddler over to you. Mila curled up against your chest, and you rubbed her back soothingly, exchanging a worried glance with your wife.

Mila was a rough and tumble kid; she fell often, and really only cried if she was actually hurt. Sometimes, not even then. She was like her Mami in that way, so her inconsolable tears now terrified you.

“I think she tripped over my shirt.” Alexia murmured, running her hands through her daughter’s hair. Dressed in one of Alexia’s old warm up shirts, Mila surely had tripped over the hem of it. You could see this information really sinking into your wife’s head, as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, worry and guilt clouding her face.

“Baby, did you trip?” You asked, easing Mila away from your body so you could get a good look at her face. She nodded, looking between you and your wife, her bottom lip jutting out adorably.

“Woke up and my arm hurt, and I wanted to sleep in here but I couldn’t see and I fell.” Mila said. “Mama’s shirt is too big.” She continued forlornly, as if just now realizing this piece of information.

Alexia looked truly distressed, opening her mouth to apologize for allowing Mila to sleep in her shirt, even though you knew the toddler had cried and cried until Alexia had finally given in to what she wanted, if only so she could sleep. You spoke before Alexia could, though, pushing a lock of hair out of your baby’s face.

“Did you bump your arm when you fell?” You asked. Mila nodded, sniffling sadly. “Does it hurt a lot more or just a little bit more?”

“A lot at first. Just a little bit now.” Mila said bravely, peeking at her Mami out of the corner of her eye. She loved to act tough, your little girl, but she was only three, and broken bones hurt.

Alexia still hovered on your side of the bed, looking like she wanted to cry.

“Alright, Mami will go get you some ice, and you can sleep in here with us tonight. Deal?”

Mila nodded, flopping forward again to rest on your chest. The fact that her mood didn’t even really lift when you told her she could sleep with the two of you told you that she was really hurting.

Without a word, only a soft kiss placed on Mila’s forehead, Alexia headed for the freezer. She walked calmly out of the room, but both you and Mila heard the unmistakable sound of her running her way to the kitchen, and running back.

“Mami’s running.” Mila said, a small smile adorning her face. You laughed quietly, doing your best to keep your smile in check as Alexia slowed to a walk just before walking through the bedroom door, acting as though she’d walked the whole way.

The blonde had returned with the biggest ice pack you had, the one that she’d used on her knee. She wrapped it meticulously around Mila’s arm, handed her a small sippy cup [of what looked suspiciously like juice, even though Mila was only supposed to have water this late at night], and some children’s pain medicine.

It was only when Alexia slipped back into bed that she spoke, addressing her daughter with a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about your shirt, cariño, I shouldn’t have let you wear it.”

Mila gave her a strange look, scooting out of your lap to lay directly on top of your wife. Her little fingers grabbed onto her Mami’s shirt, even the one’s restrained by her cast twisting into the fabric. “It’s okay, Mami. Was an accident.”

You smiled at your girls, watching Alexia’s face melt from guilt into adoration as she leaned down to kiss all over Mila’s face. Your daughter giggled, and your heart soared at the sound, more than happy that she had stopped crying and cheered up.

Mila settled back down against her Mami, reaching one hand out to latch onto your shirt and attempt to pull you closer. “Mama, closer.” She complained, huffing when you didn’t budge.

Alexia frowned, worried you would put yourself into an uncomfortable position with your head in order to make Mila happy, but luckily, your daughter seemed to have the same thought.

“Not on your back Mama! You gotta lay on your front. Here, lay on Mami.” Mila offered, whacking Alexia in the face with her cast as she struggled to move over. You snorted at the disgruntled look on your wife’s face, ignoring the fake glare she sent back your way.

It took some maneuvering from everyone involved before Mila was curled up against one side of Alexia’s chest, and you were resting with your cheek pressed into on the other side. Only once you and Mila were both comfy did Alexia kiss Mila on the forehead, and you chastly on the lips.

And it was only when Mila had drifted off, soft puffs of air leaving her as she gripped onto both you and your wife, that you relaxed. Alexia gave you a knowing smile, well aware that your daughter's insistence that you hold her when she’d gotten hurt, and that you be included in the bedtime snuggles, had put to rest your worries that you’d failed her today.

It all evened out, in parenthood. You couldn’t forget that. Tomorrow, when Alexia would turn away for a split second too long during breakfast and Mila would end up with syrup in her hair, you’d be even more sure of that. Mistakes didn’t change how much you or Alexia loved Mila, or how much she loved both of you.

Mila didn’t keep score. She just loved you both, and that was that.

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this has been in my drafts for genuienly several months so i apologize if it doesn't feel very cohesive. hope you enjoy anyway 🙂🫶🏻 thanks for reading 🫡��

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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morganalatina21 · 5 months ago

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Way too far gone - Kimi Antonelli

The one where your friends can't take another night of you rambling about the guy you're in love with

Where, for the first time, is Kimi who is gonna hear what you really feel

inspired by friends - chase atlantic

Warnings: f!reader, english is not my first language, not proof read, use of yn, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, use of "good girl", alcohol.

Kimi's phone rang, waking him up from dreaming with his eyes open. On the background the lights and sounds from the tv on his hotel room lit up the ambient, the only sources of any movement. The young driver looked at the screen, seeing an unfamiliar name shining on the screen: Gabriel.

Sure, they were both rookies starting their first season on formula 1 together, but they weren't exactly close enough for him to be calling Kimi on a monday night, after the chaos at the Australian Grand Prix.

"Hello?" Gabriel yelled at the other side of the line, trying to hear his own voice. The music was loud and rythmic, which honestly made the italian happy that his friend was still able to party even after a DNF on the very first race. "Kimi?"

"Mate! Is everything okay?"

"I am fine." He paused, almost as if he was looking for somebody. "But to be honest, it's not someone's night." In the background, Kimi could hear someone whining, probably drunk, complaining about something. "Are you too busy to come and get us?"

"No." He answered, pressing his phone between his shoulder and his cheek, getting up and choosing something out of the pile of clothes he had to organize to travel to China very soon. "But can you at least tell me what`s going on?"

"Uhm... sure." After a few seconds the music was almost completely muffled and Gabriel sighed. "So, I went out clubbing with Isa, and on the bathroom she ran into a pretty drunk Y/n."

At the sound of your name, he physically perked up, back immediately rigid and the phone now on his hand.

"Y/n? Y/n L/n?"

"Yep. That one." He sighed again and swallowed. "Completely alone, dozing in and off, and apparently her friends left her alone at the club. I didn't actually understand most of what she said, but I know I got your name on some sentence, so... here we are."

"Okay, I'll- I'll come get her." Kimi was now kicking some shoes on and grabbing the keys to the rented car. "Just send me the address and I'll be on my way."

Before he could hang up, Kimi was already ou the door and frantically pressing the elevator button.

On the drive there, his thoughts were uneven, you recently told him about some weird things your friends have been saying a lot, and how it was all stuck inside the brain so bad it was impossible to shut down, keeping you up at night.

His hands squeezed the wheel and he bit his lip, promising himself silently he'd first hear you out instead of immediately cursing them off, after all, they were your friends.

Gabriel was waiting outside of the pub, purple neon lights making his eyes seem bigger and his hair darker. He waved once he saw Kimi and smiled tightly.

"Hey. She's inside, still with Isa. Come on." The brazilian driver guided him through the crowd, both with caps and heads tilted down to not be recognized so easily. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know who else to call. I offered taking her to the hotel and let her crash on the couch, I've done it before, but she refuses."

"Is okay." He shrugged. "Dios mio, Y/n."

The sight was one Kimi had never seen on you before. The make up was smudged on all directions and eyes watery, looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time, head moving absentmindedly without any real pattern, head attached to the neck from all the sweat and arms shaking slightly from the cold tides you were pressed against.

Isabella, Gabi's girlfriend, had one of your hands cupped between hers in her lap, and she seemed to be trying so hard to keep you awake at the bare minimum.

"I got it from here, thanks mate!"

"No problems. Come on, Isa."

You barely noticed your source of heat leaving, just sniffed and let your head hang against the wall.

Kimi squatted down to be on eye-level with you, trying to steal your attention naturally, and when it happened, there was a glimpse behind your eyes.

"Hey, you look like him." You muttered almost to yourself, and then louder: "You really look just like him."

Holding out a hand, with the index finger you pressed against his right cheek, almost testing if he was real, and once the test came out positive, he felt the whole hand holding his face.

"Fuck, you're so pretty. Just like him." You sniffed once more, nostrils congested and drippy from all the crying that also ruined your make up. "But my friends- uh- where did my friends go?" Looking around, finally realising Isabella was no longer holding you.

"They just left, and now I'm here to take care of you, miss."

"My friendssss" Kimi now recognized, the one whining drunkly at the call was, infact, you. "Fuck, I'm really that unloveable." To that, he opened up his mouth to question, but you were too far gone rambling. "It's whatever, i guess, I mean, it's not great, but hey- at least I got a handsome face like you now staring at me."

"I think that's enough for tonight, come on."

Gently, he held his arms out, framing your curled up body and reaching for your elbows and pulling you to stay in your feet. A little off-balanced, but he could work with that.

"Let's go home."

His arms were shoved off at the blink of an eye, your hand still hanging in the air from pushing you away, back now fully glued to the wall behind you.

"Hit the brakes, man." You were slurring your words and barely managing to stay put in your heels, but your eyes were feisty. "I'm not walking into no stranger's car, I still have some self respect, 'kay? I can still think, fucker."

"What-"

Kimi explored every inch of your face, looking for a shaking sign of a unfunny prank, but he found nothing except some anger and that same glimpse.

"Are you serious? Love, it's me."

Your bottom lip quivered before you gulped, still not moving and looking at him with cold fear. Arms up, trying his best to not seem remotely scary, he approached you step by step, dragging his feet on the floor in order to not be too quick and scare you away. He did not know what he would've done if you ran off frightened and locked yourself in the bathroom, or worse, got lost in the streets.

"Okay, see? Calm down."

He was halfway believing in the way your expression softened and arms were hanging on the sides of your body, letting him in.

You blinked once, twice, before melting and craning the neck and taking his lips onto yours.

This was definetely not what he was expecting but gave in anyway, reciprocating the kiss and enveloping your shaking body in his arms. You tasted like vodka and some energy drink, most likely Red Bull, and he made a mental note to fake argue with you about giving his competition money.

"Come on, baby. Let's go home."

You grunted out of frustration. "Dude, what is your problem? I already said to you, I'm not going to bed with you just because you look like him. Just get a fucking grip and let us both enjoy what we still can."

"Y/n I'm serious."

Your brows furrowed. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm telling you. I'm Kimi."

"No, see," You pushed him only a few centimeters away, but your right hand was still on his forearm. "We are not allowed to say that name here." You said, matter-of-factly, waving a finger around. "So I don't know how you fucking know that name, just drop it."

"Y/n L/n, I am Andrea Kimi Antonelli, not just some guy who looks like him. Gabi called me."

The smug facade on your face disappeared more and more every second and he was getting impatient.

"No." You whined. "Kimi would not come for me. He would- he would not. Why would he? He wouldn't. No."

The italian's heart skipped a beat. Is that what you really thought of him? Heck, he knew you weren't dating but at least you should know he was not some prick.

You had to know. Right?

"Baby, I know you're not feeling good." He started, moving his forearm around to hold your hands into his. "But you need to let me take care of you, per favore."

With a sniff, your mind collapsed noticing his hand, the leather bracelet he always wore and huge rings framing his large and veiny hands, the ones you knew so goddamn well and fantasized about a promising ring on the ring finger, and you'd be wearing one exactly alike.

He really was Kimi.

You had kissed him thinking he was someone else.

You rambled to him about him.

And he was there.

"Oh, fuck."

Detaching your back from the wall, you let Kimi hold your shoulders and guide both of you through the crowd, out the main door and into the car.

The realization that it was really him dawned on you with an unrequited dose of sobreity and now tears of embarassment clung onto your eyes. You were shivering, blood pressure so low the temperature was running down to the point of almost hitting your teeth.

"I'm sorry." You managed to cough out on the middle of the ride, curled up in a ball on the passanger seat, looking out the window, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"We'll talk at the hotel, okay?"

Fuck, that's exactly what you didn't want. It meant you'd have to go all the way up to his hotel room, expose your feelings and explain everything you did that night while still being tipsy.

You just wanted to go to your hotel room, take a hot shower just to get the sticky drinks you spilled on yourself off and breakdown under a pair of covers watching tv and crying yourself to sleep.

But now you knew, your relationship with Kimi was never going to be the same.

To you, everything was awkward. The car ride, walking into the hotel room and greeting people with a head nod, the elevator, everything. To Kimi, it was just mildly uncomfortable, but he didn't remembered the last time he was uncomfortable with you.

You pressed the button to your level, but when it came, he just held your waist and pressed for the elevator to close.

His hotel room was a bit chaotic, never being big on organization he'd most of the time just let thing on sight in order to not forget them. The tv was still on, bed sheets a mess, clothes thrown in the ground and a laptop upside down on the couch.

That was the first time you were in that hotel room of his, which was odd.

"Okay, do you wanna talk first?" He asked, handing you a bottle of water from the minibar. You grabbed it, but didn't open, sitting down on the couch, whilst he sat on the edge of the bed. "Fine by me."

He kicked his shoes off. "I want to start with what' been bugging me the most." You avoided meeting his eye once again, knowing they were very much trained on you. "Did you really think I was someone else when you kissed me?"

Swallowing hard, you still didn't find the voice so the best next option was just a shy nod.

"Did you do that before?" Again, just a nod. "Why?"

Now you met his eyes, a pang of pride filling you at the sight of his almost angry expression.

"Why do you care?" He tilted his head to the side, almost in a 'really?' state of mind. "No, really. Why do you care so much, Kimi? The fuck is it to you to ask me that?"

"Because I care about you. About us."

"Us?" You laughed dryly at that, tightening the grip on the water bottle. "Fine, let's talk about it. What is 'us', exactly? Huh?"

"The fuck- where is that coming from?"

"Because honestly, I thought I could take it, being your nothing until you decided you were done with me, but since we're already here, let's do it. Let's solve this." You untangled your legs, ready to get up and leave any time you needed.

"Done with you? Why would I be done with you, love?"

It hurt. Hearing him call you love after pushing yourself away for days, believing you were better and moving on from him, but now, as he asked you with the softest puppy eyes ever and being so caring, you wanted to give in and throw all your mini progress away.

But even if you did, he wouldn't have it. You knew he would not settle until understanding what was coming out of your mouth.

So, taking a deep breath, you held your tears inside.

"Let's face it, Kimi. We never were something grounded enough, and now, we would be even less. For fucks sake, you're in F1 now! I'm so fucking proud of you, but I know that, as each day go by, you'd be met with everything, everyone, that you could have, and I know what that can do to someone. Ollie already cheated on his girlfriend, and I'm not even your girlfriend, I'm nothing to you."

"We're not dating. You, for whatever reason, refuses to have sex with me so we're not even fuck buddies, and besides those little meeting we have to hook up we barely speak, so I wouldn't call us friends with benefits."

"And I just know, that when you'll get out there you'll realise I'm nothing special, and I was letting you lead me on because I was taking what I could still have from you. So please just fucking tell me I never meant anything to you so we could both move on from this and-" Kimi was kissing you.

At some point, in between your rambling, he got up and was walking towards you; amidst the kissing was when you noticed you've been crying.

It angered you how your body became a puddle in his hands, how no matter the pain it would come after this, you still leaned into him, wanted him.

That was what your friends were always talking about: how you craved him, and he let you stick around to have someone he knew he had control over. This must've been like the thousandth time you kissed, but it always gave you butterflies like it was the first one.

He stopped the kiss first, hovering over the couch. His swollen red lips, his big brown eyes staring at you.

"I couldn't sit there and watch you talk bad about yourself, love. I couldn't."

He watched without even blinking as your eyes just watered more, becoming bigger and more pleading, man was in awe with your reaction, lips quivering as you where almost whimpering. His hands slowly came up, cupping your cheeks to make sure you kept looking at him. A masterpiece of how beautiful you were, silently begging for him.

"Please Kimi, don't do this. Don't be mean." You whispered to his face. "Don't do this, please, please don't."

He delivered a quick peck to your chapped lips. "I'm not being mean, vita mia. I want you, I've never wanted anyone else, please believe me. I only want you."

You didn't know. You truly couldn't tell if the blink in his eyes was him being sincere or if your drunken brain was playing some sick prank at you.

Your soul wanted to believe him, your heart couldn't take another breaking, not again. But fuck, you wish you could consult someone else that wasn't drunk or completely infatuated by this man.

"Cara mia, let me show you. Please?"

You sighed.

Fuck it.

Leaned in just the slightest and bit his lip, pulling him towards you.

He layed all his body weight on you, dropping the laptop to the floor and having his hands clamping your sides, feeling you up on top of your club clothes.

"Cara mia, I need to know how you taste like." Kimi's voice was shaking even though his touch was firm.

Your breath hitched on your throat, slightly nodding to him. After two more pecks he started making his way down on you, taking his time on your neck, which he knew was a weak spot.

He kept going lower and lower, staring to push your skirt up until he found your folds, pulling your panties down to your knees, still letting them hanging from your heels.

"Fuck! Oh fuck!" You gasped as his tongue found your clit.

"Oh you're so wet already." He murmured, holding your thighs so they wouldn't close on his head, practically tongue-kissing your pussy. "Suck." He ordered, sticking his middle and ring finger in your mouth.

Kimi pulled your thighs and started using his big shoulders to hold them just the perfect angle to be with his lips into your core. Feeling like his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out and shoved into you.

"Let me hear you." And you obliged, letting your lips hang and allowing your sounds to come out.

"K-kimi, fuck! Your fingers are so good, they've always been, but oh god- your tongue. Yes, please, yes."

You and Kimi never went much further than handjobs, this was the first time any of you were getting a head from the other.

And dear God, it felt amazing. Like heaven, and then hell and then heaven again. Kimi was leading you to your little death and probably what was after it too.

Your high was getting higher and higher, and Kimi was noticing it, stretching his hands to play with your nipples, stimulating you even more and letting your thighs clench his head.

You screamed, feeling his lips vibrate against your poor overstimulated cunt from his own moaning, fingers intertwined on the dark curls, pulling him in, almost as if you wanted him to enter you right there.

"You're pulsating, cara." He moaned. "Best pussy ever."

"You liked the way I taste?"

"I loved it."

"Can I taste you next?"

His eyes were blown wide, he was sucking on his fingers to get even more of your flavor, but that knocked him into reality.

With one final kiss on your clit, he pulled himself onto his feet and started undoing his belt. You slipped onto the floor and readied yourself on your knees in front of him.

Pulling his already hard cock out, he stared at you while you made contact with his angry red tip, giving it kitten licks.

"Don't be a tease." He warned, holding his dick by the base and, with the other hand, caressing your cheek. "Blow me like I'm yours."

And you did.

Started sucking the tip, bringing your hands up through his thighs until getting to his balls, massaging them as you guide your head closer and closer to his pelvis.

Using your tongue at the bottom, forcing your throat to relax and take all of him, which caused you to cough. Kimi held your hair in a pony tail, guiding you gently.

"Fuck! Don't do that." He hitched his breath and tighten his grip on your head when you moaned with your full mouth on him. "I'm not gonna last."

"Then cum on my tongue."

Holding your head with both his hands now, his thrusts on your mouth became more assured, harder but more careful. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back.

"Cazzo, Y/n- I'm-"

The taste of cum, nobody warned you before, was terrible. It was hot and sticky, almost like some kind of melted plastic, and it made you cough with him still on your mouth. But his dark huge orbs were staring at you.

So you swallowed with difficulty, and already started working your tongue on the bottom part of him again.

Grunting, Kimi pulled you up on your feet, kissing you, allowing your taste in his mouth and his taste in yours to mix.

He lied you back down on the couch, your legs immediately spreading to allow him in. His dick, already hardening, grazed against your wet pussy, making you quiver and lightly buck your hips up, chasing more.

Taking one of his hands from the top of your head he rubbed his dick around your folds, its tip massaging your clit.

"Who's being a tease now?"

He smiled brightly, aligning his length to your entrance. With one nod from you, he started invading your body.

Your mouth hang open, and he made sure to capture every single one of your moans into his own lips, feeling your tight embrace on his already stimulated dick.

And, dear God, was Kimi thick, stretching you out, feeling like he was going to rip you in half. His hands came up again, one caressing the top of your head and the other playing with your nipple, trying to ease it up on you. Meanwhile, your hands were holding onto his shoulders for dear life, legs already closing on him once again.

"Fuck, bella (beautiful), you're tight." He moaned on your neck. "It feels amazing."

"Kimi you're- its- everything. I can feel it all." You were babbling, trying to make sense of your words when there was none.

All you could think, taste, smell, feel and hear was Andrea Kimi Antonelli. You didn't know where you ended and he began, and honestly? You didn't want to know.

"Cara mia, I'm not trying to rush you, but please can I move?"

"Y-yes."

The alcohol, still buzzing in your blood, kept you numb to the pain, so he was free to move as quickly as he wanted, thrusting into you with hard slaps, forcing moans out of you.

"You feel so fucking good." Kimi whispered in your ear between grunts and sighs. "So, so good. You're taking me so fucking well, baby. Such a good girl."

His shit eating grin appeared as he felt you clenching around his thickness, and that's when an idea flashed his mind.

"How are you feeling?"

"Feels amazing, I need it more." You straightened your arms, holding onto his back, sticking your nails into his skin, pulling all of Kimi more and more towards your body.

"Do something for me?" You tried to look as he slowed down his pace. With one hand, he held your head and threw it back, off the edge of the couch, meeting your images in a huge mirror on the wall.

Kimi had a wide smile, ear to ear, as he rocked his hips into yours slowly, while you were a moaning mess, the make up even messier around your eyes, chest rising up and down. As a matter of fact, Kimi pulled your shirt up your tits to expose them, giving them a light slap, smile never leaving his face.

"Do you see yourself? Look at you, so pretty, so full of me." You moaned, he was starting to pick up the pace. He bent a little, just enough to reach your ears, still looking at you through the mirror. "How dare you say you're not mine?" His tone was rough, and it made your insides clench.

Kimi moaned as you kept squeezing his cock and pulling him to you as a desperate woman, like you needed him to breath.

"Fuck, baby! Can I- I'm way too far gone."

"Please."

His movements became erratic and uneasy as he approached his little death, holding your hair in a fist to keep you looking at the mirror, ableing you to watch as his grip on your waist got tighter and his dick thicker, pulsating inside you and finally pulsating his cum deep into your walls, who were clenching and pushing you to your own high.

"Come on, just give me one more." Zarping his arm around your waist he held you up, moving your body at his will like a doll. "Just one more, for me."

As if on command, your body gave in, scratching even more his body, your back arching from the couch, shaking and toes curling. Through the mirror you could see Kimi watching your every move, huge smile on his lips.

Getting down from your high, your whole mind was buzzing and blank, brain fucked just like your body.

"Are you okay?" He kissed you throughout the jawline. "Was I too rough?"

"You're amazing, Kimi." Words slurred, eyes blinking long. "It was awesome."

Slowly, the Italian retrieved, pulling his length, now soft, off of you. You sighed, feeling heavy and empty.

You sensed him moving around but refused to open your eyes, too afraid he'd be leaving you, scared to go back to the reality that your heart would be broken around once again.

"Vita?" He bopped your nose, and you looked at him. Raising his right hand, you spotted something on his right finger, simulating a ring. "I made it with a string of your hair that got stuck in my hand."

"I'll buy you a ring tomorrow and properly ask, but that's just so you don't have any more doubts."

"You don't even know if I'll say yes."

"Oh I'm not worried about that."

You and Kimi woke up the next day with knocks on the door. He was laying on top of you, barely being able to breathe, he grunted and blinked, eyes instantly checking on you.

"They woke you too?" You nodded, turning to the side to keep sleeping.

"It's your room, deal with it."

He rolled his eyes, pulling the covers to his hips and getting up, body completely naked except for that.

"Is Gabi." Kimi mumbled, looking through the peeking glass. "Hey mate."

"Heeeey." With the door open, you could hear the brazilian's smile as he spoke. "I was going to ask if you guys kissed ad made up, but I guess that's pretty clear now."

"Yeah, she's feeling waaaaay better now." Kimi smirked, throwing a glance in your direction.

You buried your head on the pillow and groaned, fuck, how did you guys not noticed last night that this couch was uncomfortable as hell?

March 23, 2025

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #fanfic rec #formula 1 #kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula one #kimi antonelli x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine

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luvrrszn · 6 months ago

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behind closed doors

BROTHER'S BSF!THEO NOTT x FEM READER (18+)

summary you're his best friend's little sister—off-limits, right?

warnings smut, theo's mean, fluff, angst i guess, idk

a/n guysssssssssss new week new obsession......soz send help

masterlist

being your older brother's best friend, theo was at your house all the time.

that meant he'd see you almost every day. the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, floating around. so close yet so far, always out of reach.

he knew he'd never be able to have you, no, your brother would never allow that. so he did the only other thing he could think of—be mean to you.

so he tormented you every day. called you names, even waited on your bed for you to come home so he could insult you about something new. you suspected it was just his way of getting to see you every day.

he acts like you're the biggest pain in the ass, just his best friend's annoying little sister. but the second nobody's looking? his hands are on you.

—

sleeping with him is casual, no strings attached. theo sneaks out of your brother's room at night after he's fast asleep, making sure that he never ever finds out what's going on.

when your brother is finally out of town for the weekend, theo still comes over. the two of you are watching a movie on the tv in your room, lying on your bed. his arm is wrapped around your shoulder, your head leaning against his chest. his other hand traces up and down your inner thigh under the blanket.

it's one of those rare moments in the in-between.

in-between fucking and being at each others' throats.

theo's hand slips lower, toying with the waistband of your pink lace panties. he traces over your wet cunt, chuckling under his breath, "amore mio, you're dripping, just for me, huh?"

"shut u—" you're immediately silenced when theo plunges two long fingers into your pussy.

a smug smile spreads across his face, “you’re squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna break my fingers aren’t ya? if your brother knew how much you think about me, he’d probably hex you himself.”

“t-theo, stop talking about my brother and start moving your damn fingers.” you pants, writhing against the palm of his hand, aching for some friction against your clit.

“as you wish, amore mio.”

—

one night, you’re sneaking back in after a party. your hair is disheveled, makeup smudged, slightly tipsy and boots in your hand as you try to close the front door as quietly as possible.

theo is the last person you expect to see. you curse under your breath. why is he always in your damn house?

the open kitchen layout gives him the perfect view of you sneaking back in at 3am. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, grey sweatpants hanging low, black tshirt hugging his biceps. he drinks from a glass of water, a dark look on his face.

you roll your eyes as you put your boots down on the floor, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“a bit late, isn’t it, piccola?”

you roll your eyes and brush past him, opening the fridge to grab some orange juice. gulping down the juice, you reply, "it's really none of your business, nott."

wrong answer.

before you can react, he's in front of you, blocking your path. he's so much taller, broader than you. the amused glint in his eye is gone.

"see, that's where you're wrong," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you meet his gaze, "it is absolutely my business, because we wouldn't want you messing around with young, dumb, horny boys would we?"

his forearms rest on either side of your head, pinning you against the refrigerator.

"oh yeah? and what are you?" you scoff.

"oh, bella, you already know the answer to that."

and you do. he's stronger, older, perhaps even more mature (when it comes to anything other than you) than whatever company you're keeping.

"i swear, you'd better not tell my brother about this." you groan, ducking under his arms as you beeline for the sink.

"there's no such thing as a free lunch, piccola."

and that's how you end up on your knees in your bedroom, short skirt hiked up as you gag around his fucking massive cock. his hands are tangled in your hair, mercilessly forcing you to take in every inch of him. tears stream down your face, spit pooling at the corner of your mouth. you look like a mess, but at that moment as theo looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, he swears he's never seen a prettier girl than you.

you look up at theo and take in the sight before you. his head is thrown back, hair messy. his jaw is clenched, and he smirks at you. you run your hands over his chest and toned abs, clawing at his biceps.

he's perfect.

—

oh, and when he catches you at a party?

it's over.

he drags you out by your wrists, forcing you into his blacked-out mercedes. he's driving well over the speed limit, desperate to get off the road before he loses his shit.

he'd seen you dancing with some guy you knew from down the street, dress too short, too tight, too low-cut.

he has one hand on the steering wheel, another running through his hair as his jaw clenches.

"didn't take you for the easy type, but i guess i shouldn't be surprised. you're not special, you know. boys will say anything to get them what they want."

his words hit like a slap. your stomach twists, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted and heart pounding.

you want to ask what the hell he's talking about, but you already know.

he saw you dancing with that guy. saw the way his hands slid down your waist, how he leaned in close and whispered things in your ear. how you let out that sweet laugh, one that always made theo want to say "fuck it" and just kiss you in front of everyone. he saw the way you let it happen.

and he hated it.

and now he's punishing you for it.

when you remain silent, he continues, "you looked fucking ridiculous in there, you know that?"

and you feel so silly. to think that that evening, you'd picked out your favourite dress, made sure your makeup looked good, just in hopes that theo would notice you at that party.

"you're being cruel, theo. stop it." you murmur, turning to stare out of the window. you don't even notice that you've started crying.

when you finally notice, you wipe it away quickly. you hope that theo didn't notice, but of course he did. at that moment, he pulls into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine.

theodore nott has seen a lot of things—but he has never seen you cry like this. and definitely not because of him.

and it makes something in his chest clench.

"oh, for fuck’s sake—" his voice drops, no longer sharp but still frustrated. he drags a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly, like he’s angry at himself now, too.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, at the way you’re biting your lip, blinking rapidly, trying so hard to hold it in.

then? he moves.

his hand reaches for your thigh, fingers curling around it, grounding. not forceful, but firm.

"hey." his voice is softer now, rough but not cruel.

"don't do that. don't fucking cry over me."

you try to shift away, but theo's grip tightens. not rough—just enough to make you stay.

"i didn't mean—fuck." he sighs again, shaking his head.

his thumb brushes against your knee, almost like a reflex, and for the first time ever, he looks uncertain.

"look at me."

you don't. you can't.

so he makes you.

his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him.

he isn't angry anymore. not at you. not really. his jaw is still clenched, his brows furrowed, but now? he looks almost desperate. like he wants to fix everything he's done, but he doesn't know how.

"i didn't mean it like that, bella."

you sniff, voice shaking slightly, "then how did you mean it?"

and that's when he just sighs. a weak, defeated sigh escapes the big bully of a man.

"i just—fuck, i don’t want to see you with other guys, alright?"

"why? we're not anything. you've made it clear, multiple times."

silence follows. his grip tightens.

then, he finally speaks. rough, low, honest.

"because i want you to be mine."

for a moment, you just stare at him.

his confession hangs in the air between the two of you. you're still hurt, still pissed. but something inside you shifts.

"say it again." your voice is quieter now, still laced with frustration but weaker.

theo's jaw clenches. he’s not used to being this vulnerable. but he doesn’t look away.

"I want you to be mine."

and then he moves. his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. he hesitates for just a second, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him.

but you don't.

so he kisses you.

it's not soft. not at first. it’s heated, desperate, full of all the tension that had been boiling between you. his grip is firm, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but you don’t—you kiss him back just as fiercely, hands tugging at his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

it’s messy and overwhelming and everything you’ve both been pretending not to want.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless.

"we’re so fucked," you whisper.

theo smirks, brushing his thumb across your swollen lips. “yeah. but you like it.”

and the worst part?

you do.

#📓—lexwrites #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott angst #theo nott angst #theodore nott smut #theo nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #harry potter

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muzansfangs · 6 months ago

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Il nome mio nessun saprà (no one will know my name).

Starring: The Salesman x f!reader; Seong Gi-hun x f!reader (platonic relationship); mention to Cho Sang-woo and Hwang Jun-ho;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, angst, harrassment, the reader is European (italian to be specific), use of cigarettes, alcohol consumption, death, grieving, violence, blood, stalking, slight manipulation, age gap (reader is twenty-one);

Plot: enrolling in Law School in a foreign country was decidely a risky choice to make. Still, you had no one holding you back, but a wholesome reason to leave. Your late mother had eventually decided to disclose the truth about your biological father and now you were coping with the primordial yearning of finding him. You only had his name, a photograph and the rumor he probably still lived in South Korea. You spent months searching for him in Seoul, focusing on your studies until the night veiled the sky. And it was exactly during a rather uneventful saturday night that you luckily bumped in a stranger with a tailored suit and a everlasting eerie smile on his face. Brazenly, your eyes pleaded him to save you, to give you an alibi, and he did. Something blossomed between you two. But you did not know that the very man who had pulled the strings of your heart was soon going to screw up your entire life.

masterlist | to the next chapter

[𝟎𝟎𝟏] 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞.

You had not inherited any physical trait of him. The more you intently scrutinized the old photo of that stranger, your father, the harder it was believing you were his biological daughter. Born from a wild one- night stand of your late mother and that smiling korean man, who apparently had played his cards well enough to make that sweet tourist agree to spend the night in his company, you were now wondering why your mother even decided to give birth to you, raise you alone and, above all, why she did not bother contacting him to let him know he had a daughter in Europe. Tormenting yourself with a bunch of ‘what ifs’ was pointless. It was too late to ask such questions and no one could provide you logical answers anyway. You did not feel like pressing your mother, during the last days of her life, and your grandparents had died long before she confessed the identity of your father.

All you had to do was dealing with the empiric evidence of her shenanigans: your very existence and the picture of that man.

You had grieved her death alone, keeping your promise to look out for yourself and chase your dreams. It was the least you could do to show your gratitude to her for having sacrificed her own projects and aspirations to give you a decent life, a better future. The funeral was the hardest part. No relatives were around. To keep you company and deposit flowers by her grave there were just a couple of her friends and some of your old classmates: people who you had to say goodbye to, on your way out of the cemetery. Cutting ties was the best thing to do. You left the same night for starting a new life. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep on the plane were the droplets of rain streaming over the cold glass of the window.

The first chapter of your story was chaotic. Your mother was gone, you had enrolled in the Seoul Law School and were busy searching the city for your father. You had wisely started your hunt from the area your mother had told you she had met him at. You struggled communicating with the locals at first. Most of the people did not seem to understand you, or did not give a damn iota about you. However, you were fluent in English and some of the Korean students at the Campus were helping you out. They had taught you the basic sentences to use to survive, made sure you learned which trains to take to travel around, when you were alone, and some tactics to defend yourself from the native creeps. You gradually adapted to your new life-style. Summarizing the first months of your adventure, you could proudly say it was not going as bad as you had figured on the plane to Seoul. Whilst you were making new friends and growing familiar with some areas of the city, you began to cross off from the map the parks and streets you had looked for him throughout days and nights.

Your map was painted red.

Alas, though, you also soon began to lose hope on the chance to meet your father. When you successfully engaged in a seemingly good conversation with the owners of a restaurant, or pub, you were unable to provide them more informations about the man you were looking for. His name was Seong Gi-hun, he had hooked up with your mother when he was a rampant twenty-six-years-old man with a radiant smile and he bragged about a brilliant friend of his: Cho Sang-woo.

Too bad no one seem to know nor your father, neither the smartass he had befriended long ago.

Defeated, after another uneventful night, you were dragging your feet along the sidewalk, hoping to reach the right underground line to go back to your dorm. It was two in the morning, drunk people swayed around you in the cramped streets, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol permeated the air and you scrunched up your nose in disgust, careful not to step on the sharp, glimmering splinters of the umpteenth smashed bottle on your way. Despite that, it was not like you were not used to see the same scanario back in Europe as well. What probably left you uncomfortable was most likely the fact you could still hardly comprehend the language, let alone the slang, and you were wary of your surroundings. You felt like a mouse fallen in a pit of vipers.

You had almost made it to your destination, when you turned the corner and, unfortunately, were face to face with a group of snickering guys, beers in hands, leering at any woman passing by.

Well, crap. Odds were not in your favor.

Frantically, you whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes in search for an alternative road to take. Venturing further into the unknown was just as bad as proceeding that way. You could already sense the sickening feeling of their smoldering gazes on your frame and you were one hundred percent sure some of them had already noticed you standing a few feet away from them. You usually had a good sense of self-preservation, confiding both in your knowledge and your conscience. You were already doomed that night. Why had you even declined your new friend’s invitation to a party to explore a huge city you barely knew by night and, to cap it all, alone? That was the first mistake of the night. Waves of insults to your inexplicable stupidity began to pester your mind, the moment you took a sharp intake of breath and sped up to leave that group of men at your back.

The wolf-whistles piercing your ears did not make you falter. You kept your head high, eyes directed to the sign indicating entrace to the underground. Naively, you thought those folks were merely scaring off lonely women, you hoped they had no further purpose but that. Your stomach churned, upon hearing heavy footsteps approaching you from behind. How many of them were stalking you down? One, maybe two people at best. Regardless, you refused to glance above your shoulder.

“Hey! Do you speak English?” a voice asked you, the amused undertone making the hair on the back of your neck stand in fright. One. It was just one out of five, you tried to reassure yourself. If you just kept on marching to the platform and the train made it in time, you had a good chance to give the felon the slip.

Your lack of response and reaction made him chuckle darkly and you swore your heart was desperately attempting to break your ribcage and jump out of your chest. Like Hell you wanted to die like that. All you had to do was pretending he was not there.

You had begun to tear down the stairs, when you felt his hand enclosing your elbow and his large body glueing to your hip. Invading your personal space with no regards of limits made you see red. You scoffed, finally shooting an annoyed glance at the grinning stranger, who had abruptly forced you to stop in your tracks.

“Let me go” you quipped, ungraciously wriggling your arm to get free. His grip on you only tightened and you bit the insides of your cheeks not to wince in pain.

The guy beamed, tugging you closer to him once again, ecstatic about your determination and combative spirit “Oh, so you do speak English! — he began, wiggling his eyebrows up annoyingly, the stench of tobacco in his breath causing a scowl to cross your face — Where are you from, darling? France? Germany? England?”.

You snorted, jaw clenching, as you uncomfortably let your eyes flit downstairs to spot a potential source of help from someone on the platform. Much to your dismay, there was only a sleeping, battered old man, hand clutching some money in his hands for dear life. He did not look like he even had a home. How curious was it that you were busying yourself wondering how did he even own such a conspicuous amount of money, if his clothes were dirty and tattered? He had probably robbed someone.

Or so you supposed.

“My boyfriend is waiting for me downstairs! I do not think he will be happy to see what you are doing to me” you blurted out firmly, flashing a warning gaze at your aggressor, hoping he was going to desist from pesting you further. For a split second, you swore his eyes widened, contemplating whether you were bluffing, or actually giving him a possibility to escape a beating from your mysterious boyfriend.

You truly did your best in showcasing a confident attitude. Too bad he did not believe a word you had said and nudged you to walk down to the platform, rudely spitting on your shoes “Yeah? Where’s the lucky bastard? Let’s go meet him, okay?” he taunted you, pushing you down the remaining steps without thinking twice.

You squeaked out in fear, miraculously landing on your feet and quickly straightening your jacket, as you found back your balance. You hesitantly raised your face, glossy eyes inspecting the length of the platform to look for help. A cop, maybe. But no officer wandered down the underground at that time. It was late. No one was there.

No one, but a tall man in a fancy tailored suit and a suitcase in his hand. After all, odds were in your favor. You did not have much time ponder your decision. Briefly, you studied him. He was clearly older than you, there was a chance he actually spoke English and could connect the dots at your senseless words. You had no other choice, in the end. You gave it your best shot. A shuddery breath left your lips, as you pointed at the tall man and made sure that thug followed your gaze. Lying was not in your style. However, you knew that the basic animal instinct of striving to survive was kicking in.

You smiled, genuinely even, feeling the muscles of your cheeks stretching in a loving, enthusiastic smile directed to the stranger. He had caught a glimpse of you in his peripheral. How could he not, when you had practically been shoved downstairs and had landed in such an unladylike fall? Something was off. And he knew it, he could see it in the shimmering tears prickling your eyes, when you opened your arms and snuggled against his chest, as if you two were meant to meet.

His masculine cologne ungulfed you, one calloused hand threading through your hair, surprisingly not to yank you off of him. And in that instant, you knew you were safe. A stranger had harassed you and a stranger was saving your life. You closed your eyes, reluctantly pulling away from the tall man to meet his eyes. Two dark pools of ink met your eyes, swallowing you whole as he smiled back down at you. Dear God, he was handsome. Unbelievably good-looking. Probably too handsome to be real and you foolishly asked yourself if you had been shot dead by the felon and had just landed in Heaven.

“He’s my boyfriend” you finally stated, though, bashfully pulling your gaze off of your savior’s face to meet the other guy’s gaze. The nightmare was not over yet.

Hands tucked in the pockets of his ripped jeans, he snorted, eyeing you two suspiciously. Unexpectedly, before any of you could say another word, the old man who was napping on the platform groggily stood up and stared at you in total shock.

His face was horrified, unsteady steps leading him next to the arrogant guy who had hollered at you a few moments ago. The man tried to usher him out of the station, all the while slurring indistinct korean words you failed to both catch and understand. The younger one clearly did not appreciate whatever the tramp had told him and knocked him down with a punch straight on his nose. You shrieked, hand clasped over your mouth, as the thug dashed away and stared at the bleeding man on the floor.

He was still alive, thankfully, and you began to fumble in your bag for a tissue to hand him. The man in a suit, however, anticipated you and walked towards the drunk man grumbling on the floor. Once again, the two of them cut you out of the conversation by speaking korean. This time around, though, you were able to understand something along the lines of ‘change the station, he will come back for you’.

“Can I help you somehow?” you shyly asked, intruppting them, as you watched the man wipe the blood off of his face and the tall guy turn his attention back on you.

He smiled, again. Actually, you did not seem to recall a moment he had stopped smiling. You shivered, eyes darting away from him not to expose yourself and your evident attraction towards him. He really had no reason to be that attractive.

“I should be the one asking you that. Are you alright, miss?” he inquired, keeping a comfortable distance between you two. How considerate of him sparing you the embarrassment of more unsolicited physical contact with him, after you had literally buried your face in his chest like an ostrich would with the sand. You thought he probably must have felt a great amount of discomfort at holding you in his arms protectively.

You nodded your head, glad to see he could speak English as well “I am good, thanks for asking… And for your help too. I did not mean to be a burden” you apologized, bowing your head to excuse yourself once again.

“It’s nothing. I did not have to get rid of that man, did I? — he replied casually, straighening his tie absentmindedly with his free hand — I can not help, though, but wonder why a foreign girl is down the streets, all by herself, in the dead of the night. It’s dangerous” he reasoned, his tight smile pinning you on the spot once again. Well, he was right.

Also, it was only natural for an older man to question a girl that could have probably been his daughter about her disputable choices.

“I know! I’ve been reckless… But I think young and desperate people make such mistakes, once in a while” you vaguely said, shrugging, and transfixing your gaze on the rails to avoid his cold eyes.

You did not expect the conversation to continue. You blinked skeptically, when he fed the flame.

“Desperate, you say? What troubles might gnaw at a young girl’s stomach, besides graduation and dating?” he queried your assertion, seemingly interested in your story. A late night talk with a stranger in a desolate underground was not exectly how you expected your exploration to end. He did not seem to have ill intentions. He was probably just a tired man working in a bank, or a CEO of some important company, waiting for his train to go and get some well-deserved rest. At least, that is what you thought judging from his sophisticated way to carry himself and the cocky aura he radiated.

You exhaled softly through your nose, a melancholic smile curving your lips “Well, it’s… It’s complicated. I’ve just moved to Korea. I remember wanting to study aboard since I was a kid. — you began, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, one of the habits you did not seem ready to get rid of — And I’m glad to be here, don’t get me wrong. The thing is I’ve chosen this Country because I was told my biological father lives here” you admitted, folding your arms against your chest protectively.

Honesty. A virtue to pursue, but a fatal flaw, when you meet a wolf in sheep clothing.

“I see. Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.

“Nothing like that. I can’t find him”.

A few seconds of silence blanketed the station. Opening up to a stranger you deemed to be a decent man was weird per se. You were aware of it. However, loneliness probably was starting to get the best of you. An adult figure to confide in was everything you needed but did not have. Maybe this was the main reason why you relentlessly searched for your father. Family was important to you.

The man hummed. The next thing you knew he was standing closer, head cocked to the side and a gentle expression on his face “You look discouraged. It is understable. — he began, the shadow of a smirk creasing his lips — How many informations you have about him?” he asked you then, causing you to shake your head and reach for his picture in your small bag.

You flipped it around, hopelessly wishing in a positive feedback, to show it to him “This picture, his name and that he had a smart friend: Cho Sang-woo”.

For a moment, you thought he actually had an answer to provide you, or a suggestion. Unfortunately, he lowered his gaze and shook his head. Obviously, you were back to the start. Pushing your luck was all you could do to solve the puzzle.

“This time around, I can’t really help you. You should probably hire a private detective” he suggested you flatly, locking eyes with you as you two heard the familiar toot of the train entering the station.

You let out a bitter laughter “Non tutti sono ricchi come te¹” you whispered under your breath, confiding your native language could somehow conceal your demotivation and financial issues. All you had was enough to simply take care of your carreer. You could not afford to pay a man to track down your father.

The sliding doors opened and you entered the train, slightly taken aback by the fact he did not. What the Hell was he even doing there? He stood right in front of you, back straight as a ramrod, hand raising to wave at you with his trademark smirk. You furrowed your eyebrows, lips parting to say your goodbye, when his reply left you speechless.

“Buona fortuna ² ”.

Colors drained from your face the moment he made it loud and clear he spoke italian. Your mortified expression might have spoken volumes, for he quirked his eyebrows up and nodded his head in your direction. When the doors closed, you slumped onto an empty seat, glad you were probably not going to meet that handsome man ever again in your life. What a disgraceful day it had been. Especially for that drunk man you had totally forgotten about, lost in your train of thoughts.

Nearly two weeks later, you were gawking at a letter in your mailbox. Someone knew your address, your name and the fact you were looking for your father. Your hands were shaking, fingertips running over the texture of the paper, nails scraping it in a comforting sound. You could not deny your head began to spin and you were forced to curl yourself up in a ball over your small bed. The black capital letters standing out on the white card in front of you were truly a manna from Heaven, but for all you knew it could have been also a letter from the haunts of Hell.

No one knew you were looking for Cho Sang-woo and Seong Gi-hun. No one, really. Not even your new friends from the courses you had signed up to were that well-informed. There was only one person who knew those name, but you highly doubted he even recalled them. And, additionally, he did not know yours. Merely thinking about that stud made a sense of uneasiness set in your stomach. You had hugged him out of no where, you had undirectly labeled him as a filthy, selfish rich man who had money to throw away. Gosh, you felt so miserable and humiliated when he had talked back to you effortlessly in your own language. He had left quite the impression on you. Then again, he did not give off the vibes of a delinquent.

Now, however, it was not the right time to daydream about him. To distract yourself from reminiscing about your mistakes, you focused on the dossier you had received.

“Cho Sang-woo, age fourty-six. Investment banker at the Joy Investments. He usually arrives at his workplace around eight o’clock in the morning”.

Well, this man was not your father. However, some informations about where to find his so-called best friend could help anyway. There was a high possibility Mr. Cho was still in touch with him and therefore he could give you his address. You wished you could thank whoever had sent you that letter, but the pacakge was unsigned. Your savior seemed to want to remain incognito. Savior. That word sound bittersweet, giving the circumstances. The mysterious person that had sent those informations had been, without the shadow of a doubt, watching you, eavesdropping your conversations, stalking you. The mere idea of someone sneaking in your dorm, when you were fast asleep, or when you were attending your classes sent frissons over your skin. You refused to even picture a hooded stranger following you around. Something did not quite make sense, though.

If you had a stalker, why was he helping you out?

You huffed, fingers running through your hair in distress, as you ultimately decided to both make good use of the informations you had received and protect yourself from any potential threat lurking in the shadows.

The following day, you were sipping on a coffee in your new friend’s car. Hwang Ju-ho, a young cop who had taken pity on you, when you had just landed in Seoul and had no idea of where to go, or how to reach your destination. He had been kind to you, even leaving you his number in case you needed something. And you did.

“Let me get this straight. You have been asking random people around Seoul if they knew your father, or this Cho Sang-woo for three months straight?” he asked you, pulling over in a still empty parking lot. The sky was grey, the drizzle was becoming a downpour and you had not bothered to take an umbrella with you. Bad decision, undoubtedly.

“Exactly” you shortly commented, head lolling against the headrest of the passenger seat. You were drained, as of late. Studying hard for learning the local language and keeping up with yours courses was consuming you to the bone. Your lack of sleep was the cherry on top. You wondered when your body was going to give up and you finally reached the infamous burn-out.

Ju-ho rested his forearms on the top of the steering wheel, dark eyes scanning the horizon “And yesterday you found an anonymous letter in your mailbox with your father’s friend data in it?” he pressed again, earning a soft hum of approval from you.

You had not revealed too many informations to him about Cho Sang-woo, except for the fact he worked in the modern building in a part of the city you had yet to visit and that you had reached out for him to help you out. You had improved your Korean, therefore you did not even need his assistance in communicating with the so-called genius of the Department of Economics of Seoul. The small picture of him, a polaroid, you had found in the package along the letter showed a distinguished man with square glasses, an impeccable suit and a cold look in his eyes. Hopefully, he was not an asshole.

You had already thought about what to ask him and how. Allegedly, you were more than ready, enthusiastic at the idea of finally having a chance to find your dad. You wondered if he was a good man and if he had his own new family. In that case, was he going to accept you in his life?

Your mind went back to that unglorious night, to the man in a suit and his question: “Let me guess, you found him and he is far from the man you expected him to be?”.

No. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Deep down, you hoped to have a heartwarming reunion with your father, one of those cliché, stereotypical scenes you had watched countless times in the movies. You had deeply craved a father figure in your life. Time passed, though, and, albeit you did not grow up with your dad, your dream to look at a man and call him ‘dad’ never diminished in you. At the end of the day, you were still the innocent little girl who asked Santa to let you meet your father. However he was, wherever he was.

To interrupt yout stream of consciousness was Ju-ho, clearing his throat “If you don’t want me to help you, why am I here? I could take care of this pretty easily, you know?” he said, leaning his back on the seat and glancing at you in curiosity.

“You are helping me. I needed a lift and someone to watch my back. You are here and this is more than enough for me to be grateful to you” you promptly said, right before you caught a glimpse of a man in a black suit and matching umbrella heading towards the entrance of the building. There he was: Cho Sang-woo, tall and confident, following the routine the snout had indicated in the letter.

You quickly exchanged a knowing look with Ju-ho, before opening the car door and jogging towards your father’s best friend. It was pouring and, in a matter of seconds, you were soaked. Your hair were stuck on your face, forehead, neck. Your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably made it hard to speed up more.

Eventually, though, you caught up with him. His dark eyes met yours, so wide and full of hope. You were a panting mess, hands wiping away the droplets of water falling from your lashes, as he stared you down wearily. Who exactly were you? A foreigner, that much was pretty evident.

“Sir! Do you have a minute?” you started, hand already diving in your bag to retrive your father’s photo. He had no time to waste and you honestly wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Who are you? I have no money this month. I have already—”.

Money? You frowned, shaking your head, before showing him the picture of your father, tearful eyes boring into his ones, so unaffected and devoid of emotions. He seemed tense, you would have even dared to say agitated and you were blaming it on the fact he was being held back by a stranger before he could go to work.

“You’re Cho Sang-woo, right? — you asked, blinking quickly to clear your vision — Do you know this man? He’s my dad… I’m looking for him! You were friends, or so I’ve been told by my mother” you fretted to explain, perfectly knowing you were sounding like a maniac.

You did not resemble your dad in the slightest. Sang-woo gazed into your eyes, then at the photograph you were holding before him. Reading this man was impossible. He blankly stared at you, shutting you out of his head. The silence probably lasted a few seconds, before he degnified you with a dry answer.

“Go back home, kid” he dispassionately stated, resuming his walk without sparing you a glance.

But you had no home to go back to. You were looking for a place to call home, for a person to feel like home. You refused to accept such a refusal. This man could obviously help you, but he was downright choosing to ignore you. Were you so undeserving of a father?

“I don’t have a home anymore, sir! — you called after him, standing right where you were, gaze on the cobblestone — Please, I really need to find my father. He’s all I have now. He’s all that is left of… Of my family” you admitted, hating how your voice cracked upon realizing you indeed had nothing else besides the hope to be reunited with your biological dad.

Sang-woo halted, his back facing you as he seemed to elaborate what you had just said. Each second passing without an answer hurt you, so much that the droplets of water splashing on your face, on your clothes felt like boiling lava sizzling your skin.

Maybe, your life was about to change. Your destiny was all in this man’s hands.

“He already has a family. If you love your father, you should keep your distance. He lived perfectly fine without you until now. Would you really want to disrupt his peace and bear the burden of having ruined his life?” he deadpanned, before walking off with your shattered heart in his hand and leaving a desolation behind him.

The only audible sound was the rain pattering against the parked cars, over your skin, on the skyscrapers. It hurt. It hurt immensely. You wondered if, amidst the soothing sound of the water cascading steadily from the sky, Cho Sang-woo had heard a far way different sound. The horrible noise of a fragile heart exploding into splinters so tiny they could not be put together again.

Your first impulse was to chase after him, shout at his face you deserved to be happy too, that this was not his damn business. Your feet, though, did not move. They were glued to the ground, they were one thing with the asphalt. Your fingers twitched, your father’s photograph slipping through them, landing on a puddle.

The following days went on monotonously. You no longer bothered searching for him. Even if you knew Mr. Cho had no saying in your life, he had truly left you with so many doubts and, maybe, he had a point. If your father was happy, you had no right to destroy his life, his relationship with his wife and traumatize your step-siblings. All you did was studying, bonding with your classmates and, occasionally, joining them to some parties.

It was once again a Saturday night, when you found yourself in a discotheque. The famous Nb2 Club, located in Hongdae, was swarmed with people dancing. Most of them were drunk, out of their minds, fornicating with strangers. You, on the other hand, were not really in the good state of mind to drink your problems away. After a single shot to celebrate the birthday girl, you had incessantly tried to find an excuse to leave. Unfortunately, though, you had been dragged to the dance floor and you were now desperately trying to districate yourself out of that sea of tipsy people swaying around.

The neon lights in the dimly illuminated room made it hardly feasible to individuate the exit. You kept on pushing people around, elbowing your way to the stairs, until you whipped your head around and you froze solid.

This must have been an hallucination.

Or this is the lie you told yourself, when a flash of red lights flickered over a man in a suit. A man you knew. A man you did not expect to run into once again, especially in place like this. Your life was an entire circus.

You were petrified, more out of shock, than the embarrassment you had felt during your first encounter. You had thought about it for days, unable to get that stupid grin of his out of your head. You blinked, skeptically staring at that shadow, until the man was struck by the light again. You had even approached him, standing only a palm away from his towering figure, as you found out once again that he was already grinning down at you. Bloody Hell, he was really there.

Your fake boyfriend for a night. The man you had insulted, hoping he did not speak italian.

“Buonasera, signorina ³” he greeted you, cold sweat collecting in the back of your neck, as you stupidly looked up at him.

You did not even have an idea of how you had successfully heard him, but you did. Handsome as the last time you had met him, he did not have his briefcase with him, but he had opted for yet another set of suit and tie. You sighed, darting your eyes away in nervousness. You did not feel underdressed this time. Still, your choice of clothes was what your roommate had labeled as ‘dressed to kill any man’.

You were showing a lot of cleavage and your short black dress barely reached your upper thighs.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him then, careful to ignore his provocation.

“I could ask you the same question, ma’am. Hopefully, you are not chasing down your father alone again”.

You rolled your eyes, gesturing at your high heels “Fair enough. To answer your question, definitely not. I was actually trying to leave this place. My feet are stinging” you decided to say, noticing his dark eyes travelling down your form, before factually inspecting your feet.

He smiled again “By sheer coincidence, I was leaving too. I had a business meeting, but it’s concluded. Would you like for me to lead you out of here? I know about a secondary exit easy to reach” he suggested, chivalrously holding his hand out for you to grasp.

This was hazardous, but he seemed to be genuine. Just like that Saturday night. He had saved you, he had been polite. Only a little too cocky, but not mischivious. Once out, you could always call a taxi and go back to your dorm. You decided to trust him, your smaller hand gripping his delicately as you glanced at your group of friends one last time, before nodding at him.

“Please, lead the way” you agreed, a faint smile gracing your red-painted lips, as he glared at a couple of people occupying the access to a corridor and walked past them without any qualms of the possible consequences.

You just followed him, inhaling deeply as he opened a door and let you step outside first. The chilly air of the night bit your skin, goosebumps raising on your flesh as you folded your arms against your chest to warm yourself up out of reflex. You were suprisingly at the end of the line of people waiting to enter, fortunately already on the main street. You sighed, turning towards him with yet another small smile on your lips.

“Thanks. Apparently, you have a knack for saving me in different situations” you noted, bowing your head a little, as he closed the door behind himself.

The businessman straightened his back “Perhaps. — he replied, eyeing your shivering form in interest — What are you going to do now?”.

“Just calling a taxi and spending the rest of the night at my dorm”.

“A taxi? It’s pretty late. We’re at Hongdae. I don’t think there’s a driver available, miss. — he reasoned, hand slithering into the pocket of his slacks, a clinking sound catching your attention — My car’s parked nearby. I could easily drive you home” he offered, dark eyes devouring yours in a subtle dance of attraction. He was way too discreet and smooth, but you were not a fool.

He had not said anything compromising, yet he had piqued your interest and, definitely, your whole attention. The question was: did you want to play along? Probably, it was not a good idea. He was older, more than twenty years older than you. Still, he had been kind to you. He had offered you protection that night, he had helped you out of the disco. He was charming. And, admittedly, you were also touch-starved and, horribly, lonely.

But you knew he was not going to do anything for free.

You looked at your feet, nervously sinking your foreteeth in your bottom lip “Where’s the catch?”.

He tilted his head to the side, pulling his hand holding the keys out of his pocket “I wouldn’t call it a ‘catch’. But, actually, I was hoping to treat you with a glass of fine wine. Obviously, if you agree” he confessed, not batting an eye and awaiting patiently for you to make up your mind.

Wine. Alone with him.

“Where?” you asked him then, heart inexplicably skipping a beat the moment shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and elegantly draped it over your naked ones. His cologne, just like that night, pierced your nostrils and you let out an imperceptible sigh at the comforting feeling of someone actually looking out for you.

“My apartment”.

Shit. Well, you knew the risks of following a man home. But you were young, free, with some experience at your back. Why not letting loose once ever in your life?

“And the brand of the wine?” you inquired, only for him to smile wider at you. He was effortlessly handsome.

“What about a Chianti? I’m sure you know this one”.

“Don’t make me regret it”.

You had not really paid attention to the road. He drove you safely to yet another part of the city you were not familiar with, charming you with his impeccable portamento behavior and a refined taste in music. He knew some italian words because he liked Opera.

You spent the time in the car listening to Rossini, Verdi and Puccini. Gradually, you relaxed in his presence and, before you knew it, you were sitting on the leather couch of his living room. A goblet of half-finished Chianti in your hand, you were conversing with him about your struggles to adapt to the Country.

Talking to him was easy. Too easy. Were you really that surprised you even told him about your progresses with your research for your father? Not really.

“The main issue was the language. Not everyone speaks English and… You are the only person I have met who understands some italian” you told him, watching him swirl the remaining wine in his goblet absent-mindedly.

He had loosened his necktie, the jacket he had lended to you now discarded on armrest of the sofa. His dark eyes glinted in something you failed to fully comprehend. He did not seem inhebriated, not yet. But rather passionate, as he took a sip from his glass before settling it down on the glass coffee table at his feet.

You mimicked his actions, tiredly accomodating yourself against the soft backrest. He hummed, shifting on his seat and deliberately sliding closer to you. Your head was reclined, the illumination casting enticing shadows over his face. You felt almost ashamed for the desire you felt for him, for a complete stranger.

“You have improved in Korean, though. Practice leads to progresses— he noted, his hot breath wafting over your face like a gloved stroke on your cheek — Aren’t you dying to go back to Mr. Cho and tell him in a perfect Korean that he is not in the position to judge you?”.

You chuckled this time, eyes closing “If I were to do that, I would not be that polite and formal”.

“But elegance suits you, ma’am. Foul language is not necessary to manifest your anger” he chided you, probably in paternalistic way you found odd, but not out of place.

“Homicide is illegal” you pointed out, your sarcasm and dark humor rolling out of your tongue like your second language.

He hesitated for a split second, his lips curving in a smirk at your remark. He glanced at his wristwatch briefly, before his eyes searched for yours again “It’s three in the morning. Would you like for me to take you back home?”.

He was giving you a choice. He had not touched you inappropriately, he had merely sat close to you, offered you wine, let you take some pent up frustration out by listening to your story silently. He had been an absolute gentleman. Maybe, this was the reason why you scooted even closer to him, hand gently resting over his to stop him.

Your noses brushed together, tentatively experimenting what it would have felt like to breathe him in. He reached his hand up, cupping your cheek and angling your head in a optimal position to let your lips lock. You held your breath, half-lidded eyes boring into his, dilated, lust filled.

“Is that a no?”.

You swallowed thickly “Affermative, sir”.

He hummed, tongue sweeping out of his mouth to lick your lips, tasting you, before finally opening his mouth and involving you in a slow, intimate kiss you had long forgotten could give butterflies to your stomach. He was a good kisser. His large free hand travelling down your curves, squeezing you hip to prompt you to straddle his lap.

You did not break the kiss, a soft moan leaving your mouth, when he bucked his hips up and pressed you down on his crotch.

“How far can I go?” he asked you huskily, your spine arching when he began to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.

Oh, sweet God, you had lost your capacity of speaking.

Rolling your hips down to meet his movements, you whined and ran your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on the strands as he raised the hem of your skirt to expose your lower regions entirely.

“I don’t mind…” you mumbled, flicking your gaze down to meet his black-pitch orbs. You were screwed.

His hand slipped hastily beneath the fabric of your underwear, deft fingers seeking and finding your clitoris. He flicked it expertily, groaning softly at your wetness coating his digits. You were soaked, needy whimpers of pleasure escaping your parted lips as you felt your hole clenching around nothing, until he began to tease the entrance.

You cried out in bliss, his index sliding in without meeting resistance, soon followed by a second finger. The stretch was good, nothing compared to your own touch or the ones from your previous partners. He knew what pace drove you insane, what you liked, your body language was the equivalent of an opened book to him.

“Flawless” he whispered in your ear.

You wanted to moan out his name, but you realized you both had not introduced yourselves yet. He thrusted his fingers up in your core, thumb rubbing your throbbing clitoris as you panted above his head.

“W-What’s your name?” you breathed out, glossy eyes peering down at him.

He did not answer, instead biting the tender spot between your jawline and your neck. It was enough, your body had enough. Your inner walls clenched tightly around his fingers, body jerking, as your orgasm hit you like a violent wave crashing against the shore. You trembled, body slumping against his as he enclosed your waist in his arms. His lips grazed the shell of your ear, a feather-like kiss sending frissons over your body.

“I got you, Y/N”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there and thank you for having read my work. This is the first chapter of a new series I have come up with for Squid Game. The main couple will be The Salesman x reader, but I don’t and can’t promise you won’t see a glimpse of another pair throughout the story. It won’t obviously last, because well… It’s a Salesman x reader story. The title “Il nome mio nessun saprà” translated as “No one will know my name” is taken from the song played by the Salesman during the Russian roulette game with the two former loan sharks. Comments and opinions are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Luce

VOCABULARY.

1. Non tutti sono ricchi come te: not everyone is as rich as you are;

2. Buona fortuna: good luck;

3. Buonasera, signorina: good evening, miss.

CREDITS FOR THE DIVIDERS: @cafekitsune

#the salesman x reader #the salesman smut #salesman x reader #salesman smut #the recruiter x reader #recruiter x reader #squid game smut #squid game x reader #salesman x you #gi hun x reader #seong gi hun x reader #the salesman x you #squid games x reader #squid games smut #gong yoo smut #gong yoo x reader

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mattyriddlesbitch · 1 year ago

Text

Repeat It

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: cussing, fingering, mirror sex, unprotected sex

18+ Minors DNI!

You said one bad thing about your body and Theo had you on the bed in front of the floor length mirror. He had you sitting between his legs, your back to his chest, fully naked. Your legs were spread over his as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“You're so so beautiful, cara mia.” Theo said in your ear. “Repeat it for me.” He said as he stared into your eyes through the mirror.

“I don't wanna say that.” You said in embarrassment, squirming under his touch. You had one hand on his wrist and one on his thigh, nails biting harshly into his skin.

“Just say it for me. principessa.” He started placing soft kisses on your neck, not seeming to mind your nails.

You hesitated for a moment. “I'm…I'm beautiful.” You say quietly.

“Yes, you are. You're so beautiful.” He adds his thumb to his ministrations, circling your clit as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you. You moan, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, but he grabs your jaw with his other hand, pulling your head back up to look at the mirror. “Say it louder for me.”

“I'm beautiful.” You say, a lot louder as you moan and buck your hips in sync with his touch.

“Yes, you fucking are.” He says, smiling at you in the mirror as he sees how his touches are affecting you. “You wanna cum on my fingers, amore mio?”

“Yes, please, please, please.” You say, feeling so close to the edge.

“Cum for me. I wanna feel that pretty pussy clenching my fingers.” He starts kissing your neck again, watching his fingers thrust in and out of you, covered in your arousal.

With a few more thrusts of his fingers, he had you toppling over the edge, crying out his name as your legs shook.

“That's my fucking girl.” He said, smiling against your neck as he watched you in the mirror. “Aren't you just so fucking pretty when you cum for me?” He didn't even expect an answer, but was pleased when he got a small nod in response as you caught your breath. He moved his hand from your jaw to run his hand along your stomach soothingly. “You have no idea what you do to me, principessa.” He said as he kissed your neck again.

He moved you so you were now standing in front of the mirror, pushing down gently on your back so you leaned forward. You placed your hands on the wall on either side of the mirror for support as you looked at him in the mirror.

“You are so pretty. So perfect.” He said softly, trailing his hand down your back, send shivers down your spine. “Repeat that for me.” He said as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.

“I'm so pretty and perfect.” You say, not having the will to try to fight him anymore.

“That's right.” He smiled before looking down as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Say it again.” He said as he started to push in.

“I'm so pretty and perfect.” You said with some struggle as he filled you.

He bottomed out with a groan and you moaned beneath him. He started thrusted and locked eyes with you again. “Watch yourself. Watch how pretty you are taking my cock.” He said and turned your face with a hand on your jaw again to have you look straight in your eyes in the mirror, leaning over you. “Aren't you so pretty?”

“Yes. So pretty.” You say in agreement, not paying much attention to anything but the way his cock feels inside you.

“Good girl. amore mio.” He said before grabbing your hair and pulling you up to his chest to stand up straight. “Look at how beautiful you are taking me. The way your tits bounce. The way your face contorts in pleasure. The perfect moans coming out of your mouth. Such a beautiful sight.” He said, making sure your eyes were on your body in the mirror.

“I'm gonna cum again, Teddy.” You said, feeling your orgasm build even quicker at his words.

“Say you're beautiful again and I'll let you cum.” He said, his free hand coming to rub circles on your clit.

“Fuck. I'm beautiful.” You said, gripping tightly on his wrist.

“Again.”

“I'm beautiful.”

“One more time. Like you mean it.” He said, watching your face in the mirror.

“I'm beautiful. I'm beautiful. Fuck, Theo!” Your orgasm hits you hard and Theo had to move his hands to wrap around you to keep you upright as he fucks into your sensitive cunt. He came not soon after with you whining and clawing at his arms from the overstimulation.

“Say it again.” He panted, trying to catch his breath after his own orgasm died down.

“I'm beautiful.” You said, trying to catch your breath as well.

“You're the most beautiful girl ever.” He said as he plants gentle kisses on the side of your face and neck. “I don't wanna hear you put yourself down again.”

You nodded and he pulled out of you, moving to pick you up.

“Let's get you cleaned up, cara mia.” He said softly with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys

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miodiodavinci · 16 days ago

Note

Hello Mio,

I hope this message finds you well.

I'm currently working with SALVADOR Auto Recovery, and I’ve been deeply inspired by the voice and personality you've crafted. Recently, I’ve been diving into tuning and mixing, and I truly want to improve the quality of my work.

If you don’t mind, I would be incredibly grateful if I could ask for some advice about how you approach tuning SALVADOR, or if you have any tips for mixing his vocals effectively.

I completely understand if you’re busy, but your insight would mean a lot.

Thank you so much for your time and for creating such a beautiful voicebank.

Best regards.

W A A A Thank you so much ! ! ! ! I'm honored you like him so much ! ! ! ! ;; O ;; 9

In his current state, I generally recommend starting with his CV and only adding VC notes to emphasize his pronunciation as you see fit. As silly as it is, I created his OTO back when I was still exclusively using UTAU Synth, so I optimized his configs for how I saw myself using him in the future. Except then I jumped over to OpenUTAU with its CVVC phonemizer and immediately realized I'd made a mistake w.

( . . . . which is also why i have yet to do anything with him yet. unfortunately i'm trapped in the stage of development hell where his vb folder is a total mess and the thought of finishing what i've started gives me chills, but at the very least i'm chipping away at it dfhkgdhkjfg)

THAT ASIDE , , , , for mixing I highly recommend cutting his upper treble range to keep him from being too sharp. If you can, use an equalizer or a low pass filter to cut out his highest ranges, and then use a multi-band compressor to adjust his tone to fit what you're doing. Compression also helps keep him from getting lost in the mix!!

Sorry that I can't offer more ;; o ;; / I swear sooner or later I'll finish what updates I've recorded along with the quality of life update I've got going on for Auto Recovery ; ; ;

#mio answers things #anon #salvador auto recovery #one day . . . . . one day i'll get this nerd to a properly usable state

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thatdesigirl17 · 9 months ago

Text

only mine

toxic!theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: theo being toxic, jealous and possessive, name calling/degradation, violence/fighting, swearing/cursing

requests are open! let me know if you want a smutty part 2!

part 2 is out

Theodore Nott was beyond angered. Rage coursed in his blood and through his veins while he searched for the reason for his fury: Adrian Pucey.

Earlier that day Mattheo, his best friend, had told Theo that Adrian fancied his girlfriend, Y/N. Mattheo had overheard Adrian talking to his friends about Y/N, her face, her body, how he would like to have her to himself, how he’d fuck her and how perfect would it feel, how he’d grab her long hair and fist them and make her do all the things he wanted to do with her. Adrian almost sounded certain that he could make her forget all about Theodore.

Theo took long strides along the corridors of the castle, his dead eyes turning dark, his jaw clenched, his teeth gritted. Junior students were scurrying out of his way, seeing his fury evident on his sharp features. Just as he stepped outside the castle, the sight made his blood boil even further, if that was possible. He halted in his tracks, clenching his jaw even further.

Y/N was sitting on a bench with Adrian next to her side, both of them laughing. Adrian scooted closer to her, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear and caressing her locks that flowed freely down her back. Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but Theo couldn’t notice that not when he was blinded by his anger. He stormed towards the bench in the courtyard and just as Y/N was about to tell Adrian that she felt uncomfortable and he should stop, Theo fisted the collar of his shirt pulling him away and punched him right in the face, making the boy fall to the ground.

Y/N jumped to her feet, gasping and placing her hand on her mouth, surprised by the sudden actions of her boyfriend. Her eyes widened as the scene before her unfolded where Theo did not stop, he kept punching him to the point Adrian’s face was bloodied. There was blood splattered on the grass and on Theo’s knuckles. Theo’s eyes were still dark, full of anger and rage.

He crouched down and grabbed his jaw forcefully. ‘Ever talk to my girl or about her and you will end up in a state way worse than this.’, he spat, his face laced with a scowl as he let go of his jaw roughly before getting back up and kicking the limp body again in the stomach.

Theo then turned to Y/N, stepping closer to her, and invading her personal space. He towered above her, his face inches away from hers. ’What the hell were you thinking? Letting him touch you like that?’, he said narrowing his eyes, his voice laced with anger. ‘I- I was about to tell him to stop-‘, she tried to explain before Theo cut her off. ‘You’re such a fucking slut, going to anyone who gives you even an ounce of affection and letting them do whatever they want to you.’, he said, towering above her further making her eyes well up with tears. ‘Don’t cry now cara mia, wouldn’t wanna make a scene now, right?’, he said in a sickeningly sweet voice, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones, his touch almost tender, almost gentle. But his eyes betray his true feelings, the dark, stormy depths filled with a rage that threatens to consume him.

His hands moved to her shoulder, his fingers gripping the clothed flesh of her shoulders hard and rough enough to leave marks as he slowly turned her around making her feel every moment of his touch.

Once her back was against his chest, he fisted her hair, yanking her head back, making her whimper and exposing her neck. He pressed a kiss to her neck, sucking and biting hard, marking her as his. ‘Amore mio, I hate seeing you with someone else, it hurts me.’, he said against her skin. ‘Do you like seeing me getting hurt, bella?’, he asked innocently. On not hearing an answer, he bit down on her neck again, harder, whispering in a stern voice, ‘Answer me.’ ‘No.’, she whimpered, her voice quivering. ‘Good girl.’, he said, soothing her skin with his tongue and pressing gentle kisses to the fresh bruise on her skin.

Theo then pulled away, gently caressing her hair as he fisted them and slowly twisted them into a bun. He pulled the hair tie off his wrist and tied them up, his hand moving down to hold her by the back of her neck, while the other gripped her waist tightly. He leaned in, whispering in her ear, nibbling at her earlobe, ‘Only I have the right to see you with your pretty hair open and touch them, pull them. You seem to have forgotten that, bella. You’re mine and now I’ll have to remind you who you belong to for the rest of the day.’ He kissed her cheek slowly, resting his head on her shoulder. ‘Come on.’, he whispered before pulling her into the castle and to his dorm.

#theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #toxictheo #fanfic #writing #harry potter #hpimagines #slytherin boys #slytherin #hogwarts #wizardblr #theo nott #theodore nott x you

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 1 year ago

Text

Two different kinds of love

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)

Warnings: none, enjoy!!

Bea series (girl dad Carlos)

Another race weekend was behind you and now Carlos was back home with you and Bea. It was a lazy morning - your favorite kind of morning where you were snuggled up to him in bed, your back pressed against him, his warm arms wrapped around you and his lips softly pressed on your skin.

"I love having you home" You say quietly closing your eyes.

"I love being home" He says pulling you closer to him.

"You know, I'm interested in your opinion about something."

"I'm listening."

"So I was talking with my girl friends the other day-"

"Oh this is going to be interesting.." He chuckles and you join him kicking his leg.

Like any woman, you always shared things with your man that you heard or learned from your friends. Not that he was interested in any of that, but he always listened attentively because he knew it was important to you.

"So we came to the topic of how relationships change when children come and considering that none of them have children yet, they were interested in whether it is wrong to love your partner more than your child."

"Ay Dios mio.." He sighs rolling his eyes. "And what did you tell them? That is such a stupid question."

"But really, what do you think? Have you ever even found yourself thinking about it?" You ask, genuinely curious about what his thoughts are.

"It's not easy to answer that question and it's hard to explain. Those are two completely different kinds of love. Bea is my little girl, my whole world, but you gave me her." A feeling of immense warmth spreads through your body as you listen to him talk. "You have taken a place in my heart that no one can ever replace. Nothing would make sense without you."

You place a gentle kiss on his hand fighting back the tears in your eyes, but one manages to escape and roll down your cheek.

"I'd do anything for her at any time. It hurts how much I love her. But I think I'd die without you."

You were his greatest support, strength, wind at his back, his motivation and comfort. He always knew how much you loved him even though you didn't often share such deep words with him, and now that you did, they really touched him.

"That's why I'm always frightened when you get into that car. That's why I love having you home." By now the tears were streaming down your cheeks, there was no point in hiding them anymore.

"Turn around" He says quietly and when you do he puts his hands on your cheeks wiping the tears with his thumb. "I don't want you thinking that way" he presses a kiss to your forehead before he continues. "I have nothing without the two of you and I'll always come back home to you. I promise."

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woso-story · 28 days ago

Text

Mila At The Euros

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x DaughterMila

Switzerland in the summer was like something out of a postcard—mountains rolling beneath blue skies, the sound of cowbells echoing in the distance, and the buzz of excitement everywhere as the UEFA Women’s Euro 2025 filled towns with fans from across the continent.

Today, one little fan in particular was especially excited.

Her name was Mila, and she was five years old. She had two pigtails bouncing with every step, a Norway jersey just a size too big, and red-and-blue face paint smeared proudly across her cheeks. She clutched her small flag like a knight holding a sword and wore her Norwegian pride like a cape.

Today, Norway was playing their second group match—against Finland—and Mila was going to watch it live from the stadium. But the best part?

Her Mama was playing on the field.

And Mila? She was here to cheer louder than anyone else.

Next to her in the stands sat her Mami holding her hand and helping her keep her balance every time Mila jumped with excitement. Around them were Mila’s Norwegian grandparents, their cheeks flushed with happiness, and Uncle Anders, who had also flown in just to be there with them.

Mila didn’t see her Norwegian family very often—they lived far away from her home in Spain—but today they were all together, and she couldn’t stop grinning about it.

The stadium buzzed with energy, fans singing, flags waving. Mila’s little legs swung beneath her seat. She leaned toward Mapi with a puzzled frown.

“Mami?” she asked, tugging at her sleeve.

Mapi turned to her. “Yes, corazon?”

“Why aren’t you playing too? You play football too.”

Mapi smiled softly, brushing a bit of face paint off her daughter’s nose. “Because I’m Spanish, remember? Only Norwegians can play for Norway.”

Mila blinked. “But... you’re married to Mama. Doesn’t that count? You should be allowed to play too if you’re married.”

The family around them laughed gently, amused by the logic of a five-year-old who didn’t quite understand national team regulations.

But Mila didn’t laugh. She looked up at her Mami, confused and a little serious.

“You told me,” she said slowly, “that one day I get to choose whether I want to play for Spain or Norway. So why can’t you do the same?”

Mapi didn’t answer right away.

For a moment, her smile faltered, just slightly. Her eyes softened, distant, filled with something that Mila didn’t understand, but felt in her chest—a kind of quiet sadness. Mila had seen that look before, once, when her mothers had talked softly in the kitchen and thought she wasn’t listening. It had been about Spain. About the national team. Something that had hurt.

Mila didn’t know the details, but she knew one thing very clearly:

She hated seeing that look on her Mami’s face.

So she scooted closer, wrapped her small arms around Mapi’s waist, and whispered, “It’s okay, Mami. Then we’ll just cheer for Mama together. That’s even better.”

Mapi hugged her tightly, her voice quiet but filled with love. “Yes, mi amor. Together. Always.”

---

Soon the national anthems played. Mila stood tall (or as tall as she could on the seat), her hand over her heart like she'd seen the adults do, her eyes glued to the players.

And there—right there—was her Mama. Ingrid, tall and proud in her red jersey, number 7 on her back, standing with her team, singing with her heart.

Mila waved frantically. “MAMAAAAA!” she called. Of course, Ingrid couldn’t hear her from the field, but that didn’t stop Mila from trying.

Then the whistle blew—and the game began.

From the very first minute, Mila was completely in it. She jumped, she shouted, she gasped, and every time Ingrid touched the ball, she screamed with pride, “That’s my Mama!!”

Once, when Ingrid almost scored a goal, but the ball hit the goalpost Mila leapt so hard she nearly toppled forward over the seat in front of her. Mapi had to grab her jersey just in time.

“Dios mio, Mila!” Mapi laughed, pulling her back. “You're going to fly onto the field at this rate!”

“I just got so excited!” Mila beamed, out of breath.

By halftime, it was 1–1. Finland had scored an equalizer, and Norway looked a little less confident. Mila was starting to slump in her seat, her adrenaline wearing off, her small body feeling the weight of all the jumping and cheering.

She leaned against her grandpa’s arm, trying to keep her eyes open.

“Still cheering?” he asked gently.

Mila nodded, even if her voice came out sleepy. “We have to help them win...”

The second half kicked off, and Mila tried her best to stay awake. She clapped when others clapped, shouted when others did, even if her eyes drooped sometimes.

Then—in the 84th minute—it happened.

Caroline got the ball, glided past one defender, then another, and another, until suddenly she was in the box—and shot.

GOOOAAAL!!!

The crowd exploded. People jumped, screamed, hugged.

And Mila?

Mila woke up like a firecracker.

“CAROLIIIIIINE!” she screeched, jumping to her feet like she had springs in her shoes. “SWEET CAROLINE! BA BA BAAAAAA!!”

The crowd around them laughed, then joined in. For a few magical moments, the whole section of fans sang with Mila, their little conductor leading them with delight.

Mapi laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes. “Five minutes ago you were asleep!”

Mila just grinned. “That’s because Caro is the coolest!”

When the final whistle blew, Norway had won 2–1.

Mila didn’t feel tired anymore. She buzzed with joy, her heart pounding as she saw Ingrid waving and running toward them. The security guards let her through, and Mila sprinted forward, launching into her mother’s arms.

Ingrid scooped her up, spinning her in the air.

“You saw me, little star?” she asked, breathless with joy.

“I saw everything! You were the best!” Mila wrapped her arms around Ingrid’s neck, then leaned over to give her a big kiss on the cheek. Mapi joined them, slipping an arm around Ingrid’s waist and giving her a short kiss too.

“You were amazing, mi amor,” Mapi said, and Ingrid smiled at both of them with the kind of joy that no trophy could ever match.

Later, after the interviews and the celebrations, Ingrid took Mila by the hand and led her onto the field.

Mila waved at all the players shyly, but when she saw Caroline, she ran straight to her.

“Caro!!” she yelled.

Caroline turned, laughed, and picked Mila up without hesitation.

“Hey, superstar!” she said. “Did you see my goal?”

“Yes!” Mila said, nodding furiously. “You have to score even more next time!”

Caroline chuckled. “I’ll try my best—just for you.”

Eventually, the night came to a close. Back at the hotel, Mila changed into her pajamas and flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. Her body was exhausted, her voice scratchy from cheering, but her heart was full.

She snuggled under the covers while Ingrid tucked her in. Mapi kissed her forehead.

“Was it a good day?” Ingrid asked.

Mila nodded sleepily. “The best day.”

Mapi brushed her hair back. “We love you, Mila.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Both of you. And Mama? You were amazing.”

Ingrid swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered back, “So were you.”

And with that, Mila drifted off into dreams filled with football fields, roaring crowds, her Mama’s strong arms, her Mami’s warm smile, and Caroline scoring goal after goal—just like she’d promised.

Tomorrow, a new day would come.

But this day?

This one would live in her heart forever.

#woso community #woso #woso fics #woso fanfics #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen and mapi leon

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81pastrys · 4 months ago

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Behind the Interview

Summary— Franco noticed one interviewer during every race and decided they should meet up outside the paddock

Warnings— smut ; wall sex ; pulling out (practice safe sex pls) ; no foreplay ; no aftercare mentioned

A/N— more spice coming up after this 🙂‍↕️

Franco One Shots

Request— Franco flirting with interviewer!reader… he ends up taking her home and they basically go at it. The whole time he is whispering in her ear as he mercilessly pounds into her - 🐎

Franco was a flirt, every female interviewer knew that. She didn’t think he could have any effect on her. Well when she was a baby interviewer, Vettel got to her. At the ripe age of 18 he had her on her knees at the interview stands. Could’ve been the immaturity and daddy issues, but he did.

Nothing ever actually happened with Vettel, he was just a flirty little git. Franco however was her age range of dating and had seemed to have taken a liking to her.

“Ahh my favorite interviewer!” He would say, at some point dying down the suck up and calling her Spanish pet names. “There’s mi amor.” He said today and had her fumbling the interview completely.

Her cheeks burning and waving him off to someone else. He pouted at her and tilted his head with a playful smirk. “I’m too flustered, move on.” She giggled. He smiled hard and winked before moving to the next interviewer.

Near the end of the day, she was walking towards the exit and Franco caught her. She blushed and looked up at him. “Here’s my number querida.” He whispered, slipping a piece of ripped paper in her hand. Her breath hitched and he sneakily placed a kissed on her forehead, jogging back to do other duties.

She returned to her hotel and hesitated adding the contact to her phone. Doing other things before finally texting the number with a cheeky text. She was not disappointed when she did, immediately getting a response. She rushed out her hotel and made her way to his.

She had undone her look already, no makeup, messy bun, pajamas— but who’s Franco to care? She knocked and when he answered he had the same smirk as before. “So beautiful.” He whispered under his breath. She went red as always and he wasted no time grabbing her waist, pulling her in for a kiss.

It got heated quickly and he pinned her to the wall closest to the door. “You really had me flustered today.” She said seductively. He chuckled and kissed her neck, allowing a breathy moan to escape her lips. “Fuck.”

Clothes were discarded and they got straight to the point, agreeing on pulling out in the heat of the moment. “You always look so hot in the media pen, with your face all red and stuttering on words.” He whispered in her ear.

He lined himself up and she moaned out, leaning her head on the wall. “Only for you.” She breathed. Her eyes scrunched closed and her mouth hung open as he thrusted in. Her nails digging into his shoulders.

He started slow, allowing her tight walls to hug him before pounding into her. “Stuttering, just like for my interviews huh?” He teased. His pace relentless. He hooks an arm under her thigh and wraps it around him, the angle perfect to hit a sensitive spot inside her.

“Right there, oh fuck Franco!” She moaned. She was panting as his hips kept a steady rhythm. They share a sloppy kiss as he thrusts harder into her.

“Right there? Am I making you feel good cariño?” He whispered. She nodded feverishly as he kept on bouncing her up and down the wall onto his cock. “You’re going to remember this next interview aren’t you? Then let me fuck you after?” He questioned. She groaned at his words.

“Yes, yes please I’m so close!” She screamed out at a particularly harder thrust. How could someone so young be so experienced? He coaxed her closer by rubbing her clit in small circles and she began shaking under his touch.

“Dios mio, you’re so tight mi amor.” He smirked as she got tighter from her orgasm. He slowed his merciless pace and pulled out, his cum coating her thigh. He kissed her again, holding her figure upright against the wall.

“That was amazing.” She said. They got cleaned up and he check the hall for any straggler drivers or people who might know them. She left and he smacked her ass on the way out. Her phone buzzing with a text as she stepped in a taxi. ‘Can’t wait to see you again mi amor’ -Colapinto

Spicy, spicy

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona

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imagineyourworld · 5 months ago

Text

Meet Me at the Hotel

Part 2 of Captain America's Birthday

Joaquín Torres x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: You take Joaquin back to your hotel room

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mentions of shitty exes, light spanking, almost choking, Joaquin might be a bit OOC

Having a self-driving car had many perks on a regular day but when you had a handsome man who couldn't keep his hands to himself, it had even more advantages.

"Your skin is so soft," Joaquin mumbled against the side of your neck as he let his hand glide underneath your shirt and up your stomach. "So soft."

You didn't even try to answer, instead you concentrated on the feeling of his hand running up and down your body. His warmth, his soft breath ghosting over you skin.

You had to hold on to Joaquin's shoulders to hold yourself upright as he began to kiss from your neck down to your chest. Some kisses wet and hungry, others light like a feather, barely even there. "And you taste so sweet." He moved away the tiniest bit, just enough to look into your eyes.

You couldn't help yourself, you felt the corners of your lips rising up, could practically taste the sarcastic reply on the tip of your tongue, fighting to be let out. Sometimes you had too much of your father in you.

"Less talking, more kissing."

Joaquin shook his head. "I have a better idea."

Within seconds he discarded the jacket he had been wearing, carelessly throwing it on the ground. "Your turn," he grinned.

You looked him up and down for a second, your eyes resting on his naked arms, now visible thanks to the simple grey t-shirt he was wearing. He could probably lift you with ease, hold you in all kinds of positions.

"No," you finally said, looking into his eyes once more. "You want me to undress, you'll have to work for it."

The heat in his eyes alone could have burned the clothes right off your body, it made you shiver in excitement. It's been quite some time since you've hooked up with someone and those kisses and touches already told you that Joaquin would be well worth your while.

"I actually planned on getting to work once your clothes are off," he mumbled against your lips. The moved his head to the side while one of his hands found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

You eagerly responded to his advances, your tongue meeting his, exploring his mouth as you ran your hands through his soft hair. Only when cool air hit your back did you realise that he had played you. Before you could protest, Joaquin lifted your shirt all the way over your head, a victorious grin on his face.

"Hey," you laughed. "I said you needed to work to get me undressed, not to trick me."

But Joaquin didn't reply, his whole entire focus was on the skin that was now bared to his gaze. You would have felt self-conscious, were it not for the desire visible in his eyes.

"Dios mio, you're beautiful," he spoke more to himself than to you, almost lost in his own world. Somehow, that made him even more appealing. He wasn't saying these things to get you under his spell, he really meant them.

"You're allowed to touch, you know." The words were barely a whisper, you didn't dare disturb the charged atmosphere around you. Joaquin lifted his gaze again, looked you in the eyes. "I'm gonna do much more than just touch."

It only took him mere moments to live up to that promise. Joaquin began to press heated kisses to your neck, working his way down to your chest. The slight stubble on his chin scratched against your sensitive skin, making you wonder what it would feel like on other places. The thoughts were soon gone from your mind, replaced with nothing but pleasure as he ran a thumb over your nipple. Already turned on from everything else he had done, it instantly began to harden, making the lace fabric of your bra rubbing against it in an uncomfortable way.

"You're so responsive," Joaquin said, open astonishment in his voice. He ran his thumb over your other nipple, which reacted in the same way. He looked at your through his lashes. "It's hot."

Those two words sent new waves of pleasure through you. He wasn't wrong, you were very responsive to each and every one of his actions, something that usually didn't happen as quickly. But there was just something about Joaquin…

Before you had the chance to tell Joaquin that it was his turn to shed another piece of clothing, the car announced your arrival at the hotel. "Shit," you said. "I can't go in like this, where did you put my shirt?" Joaquin shook his head. "Take my jacket instead." And before you could say anything else, he placed the jacket around your shoulders, helping to get your arms into the sleeves. He even zipped it up for you, covering every inch of bare skin.

"Thanks," you said, a smile on your face.

You pressed the button to open the door, letting Joaquin get out first. You wanted a moment to reflect on what had just happened, on what you were about to do, but the warmth of Joaquin's jacket and the way it smelled just like him was a little too distracting.

Joaquin stuck his head into the car once more, a teasing smile on his face. "You coming?"

You nodded and hurried out of the car, leaving it to drive itself to the garage as the two of you headed up the stairs to your grand hotel. "I don't think I've ever been in a hotel this fancy," Joaquin told you in the elevator.

"Oh yeah?" You stepped closer to him. "I practically grew up in fancy hotels like this one." You took another step, your chest now almost brushing his. You looked up at Joaquin, watching every minuscule motion on his face. He was breathing faster than usual, his eyes were entirely focused on you. "But I've never been fucked in one."

He let out a breath, his somewhat minty breath hitting your face. "Wow… That…" He took another deep breath. "You can't say stuff like that in public and not expect me to react."

You put your hand on his chest. Maybe it was all in your head, but you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat through his clothes. "Maybe I want you to react," you almost purred as Joaquin lowered his face, his lips now inches from yours. His hands moved to your neck, drawing you even closer.

"You're gonna get me in trouble, little Miss Stark, aren't you?"

You wanted nothing more than to get him into trouble. Ideas of texting him suggestive things while he was in a meeting sprung to your mind, of leaving him little notes in his office where anyone could find them if he wasn't careful.

"I wouldn't dream of it," you whispered against his lips, the sound of your voice barely audible over the ding of the elevator, which announced your arrival at your suite.

"C'mon, Mr Falcon," you said as you moved to take his hand, pulling him after you into the room. From your private hallway it was only a short way to the bedroom.

You unzipped the jacket, letting it fall to the ground before you even reached the bedroom. Joaquin looked at you from the corner of his eye. "Someone's eager."

You just shrugged. "I have big plans for tonight."

He visibly swallowed before following suit, pulling his shirt over his head. By now, the two of you had reached the bedroom and you let yourself fall down on the bed, looking at a panting, shirtless Joaquin standing in front of you. You let your eyes roam every muscle, every inch of skin all the way down to the v-shape leading into his trousers. "You're allowed to touch, you know," Joaquin told you, repeating the words you had said to him earlier that night.

You let out a small laugh. "Come over here then and I'll do much more than touch."

He didn't need to be told twice, within seconds he found himself seated next to you on the bed. Both of you now shirtless, both of you yearning for touches, licks, kisses.

You moved your hand, which was placed on the bed, just an inch until the tips of your fingers touched Joaquin's. From there you slowly made your way up his arm, feeling how his hairs began to stand up from your soft, teasing touch. You fought the smile threatening to appear on your lips. Only once you reached his shoulders did Joaquin begin to move. He turned to face you, the tiniest hint of a blush visible on his face.

"What are you doing, hermosa?"

You shrugged. "What you told me to do, I'm touching you."

He moved his gaze to look at your hand now on his chest, right against his pounding heart. "That's not what I meant, you know that."

You stopped your hand from creeping forward. "Oh? Did you have something else in mind?"

And before he had the chance to reply, you quickly placed your hand on the bulge in his trousers.

Joaquin let out an almost pained groan. You applied the slightest hint of pressure, feeling the hardness, his girth. The thought of having him inside you made you clench your thighs together, a movement that didn't go unnoticed.

Joaquin looked at you. "How do you wanna do this?" There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, barely there. It was cute, the way he was so eager to please, something that fit neither his leadership position in the army nor his new role as Falcon. Joaquin was more three dimensional than you had given him credit for; he was cute, sure, but also kind. Clever, from everything Sam had told you, and oh so gentle with you. Only the slight twitch of his fingers betrayed the fact that he wanted nothing more than to take action.

"I'll follow your lead," you said while running a single sharp fingernail over his bulge.

Joaquin nodded, the movement slow, calculated. It might have been a genius move concocted by him because when put his hands on your waist and threw you onto the bed a second later it took you by surprise.

Before you knew it, you found yourself laying flat on your back with Joaquin hovering above you, holding himself up with his strong arms, which were caging you in.

"You're so pretty." He said. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It didn't quite fit the heat in his eyes but that juxtaposition only turned you on even more. This was a man who could be gentle in such a situation, something you weren't used to. "Your lips," he said before pressing another kiss to them. "Are so sweet." He pressed another soft kiss to each of your brows. "I could get lost in your eyes." Another kiss, this one slightly wetter, a bit more eager, to your jawline. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be here with you."

You grinned up at him, running one of your hands up his arm, feeling his strength. "Quit the sweet talking, Joaquin, you're already in my bed."

He laughed. You liked that about him, not many men were able to joke around as part of their foreplay. "And I don't plan on getting out any time soon."

"Oh yeah?" You playfully raised an eyebrow, hoping to coax something more out of him. "You think you'll last that long?" Instead of giving you an answer, Joaquin moved his hips, grinding his hard dick against you. You couldn't help the moan that came out of your mouth, a sound filled with nothing short of desperation. Fuck, you didn't just want this man, you needed him.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." He repeated the motion, pressing himself against you even more. His chest was now touching yours, your lace covered nipples brushing against his hot skin. "Jesus Christ," you whined. It was too much and too little at the same time. You needed to be out of your clothes now, needed him to touch you.

"It's Joaquin, actually," he said, letting one of his hands glide over your shoulder, all the way down to your bra. He began to knead your boob through, gently, as if he had all the time in the world. Joaquin pressed a soft kiss to your nipple before finally, finally freeing your aching tit, pulling the lace fabric down before repeating the action on the other boob.

"Beautiful," he whispered. His eyes entirely focused on your chest, a single finger now running circles around your nipple, making it impossibly hard.

"My eyes are up here, baby," you said, lifting your hand to move Joaquin's head so he was facing you.

He nodded. "Yeah, sorry." A boyish grin found its way to his lips. "Just trying to take it all in."

You moved your hand even further until you had a hold on his hair. You let your fingers run through his hair for a moment before pulling him down. His lips immediately found yours. The kiss was more heated than the ones before, all tongue and teeth. The time for sweet talking was over.

As you tried your best to distract Joaquin with your kiss, the hand that wasn't tangled up in his hair snaked down to his trousers, undoing the button, pulling the zipper down. It was the sound of the zipper that alerted him to what was happening.

"Need help with that?"

But you, nothing if not stubborn, shook your head. You could tell that Joaquin did his best to help you nevertheless, he moved forward ever so slightly as you began to pull his trousers and underwear down. Despite your protests, Joaquin had to do the last bit, pulling them off of his legs. While he did that, you had the chance to look at him in all his naked glory. He was strong, well build but not too muscular. He clearly worked out, but not to show off, he worked out because he saved lives for a living. Living under the same roof as superheroes for most of your life you would have thought something like that didn't affect you, but seeing Joaquin, knowing he would risk his life for other, it only made him more attractive.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

You looked him up and down again, letting a smirk rise to your face only once you met his eyes. "Maybe I will."

That cute blush rose on his cheeks once more. It was simply too easy to rile him up.

While Joaquin was still busy taking his socks off, you hurried to get rid of your trousers, underwear, and socks as well. It only took a few seconds until you were both naked, standing in front of each other next to the bed.

Joaquin was the first to reach out and touch, his hands slowly tracing your boobs, down your sides to your hips. He pulled you closer, close enough for his dick to touch the soft skin of your abdomen. His hands moved further until he had one hand on each of your ass cheeks, gently caressing the flesh.

He leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours. "I'm gonna make you feel good, hermosa, I promise."

The sweet words were a stark contrast to the slap he suddenly landed on your ass. You jumped a bit, utterly taken by surprise. "What was th- fuck!" He spanked you once more, this time on the other cheek. It wasn't hard enough to really hurt you, just a reminder that you had told him to take control.

"Too much?"

You shook your head. It was unexpected, stung a little bit despite the fact that Joaquin now began to rub the sore skin with his thumbs.

"More?"

You nodded. In the back of your mind, an idea took form and you wanted to test it out. Despite his gentle demeanour, Joaquin was still a leader and he was used to being treated like one.

"I need you to talk to me, hermosa." He pinched your cheeks, driving his point home. "Use your words."

You looked up at him through your lashes as you said your next words. "I want more." You stepped impossibly closer, your body now all but pressed against his. "Please."

Joaquin grinned, a smile equal parts teasing and proud. "More what?" He removed one hand from your ass, running it up your body, to the back of your neck.

"More," you said, moving until you could touch his hard dick, which instantly began to pulse as you wrapped your hand around it. "Of you."

Joaquin let out a string of words, spoken too fast for you to even make out what language he was speaking.

Your eyes never left his as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees. Despite the obvious desire and anticipation in his eyes, Joaquin began to protest. "You don't have to do that."

You took your sweet time replying, instead you closed your hand around his dick, applying more pressure before moving up and down, slowly jerking him.

"I know," you finally said, your lips now mere inches from his tip. "But I want to taste you."

Those were the last words you spoke before you wrapped your lips around him.

Above you, Joaquin let out a string of curses, his hand instantly flying to the back of your head.

You moved your hand and head in tandem, slowing down or speeding up every once in a while. You relished the way Joaquin's entire body tensed when you hollowed your cheeks, the groans that escaped him whenever your tongue met the head.

"Fucking hell! How did you get so good at- you know what, never mind. I don't wanna know," he mumbled.

Despite the tears forming in your eyes, you looked up at him. This sure was a picture to behold, the heiress of Stark Industries on her knees in front of the newest Avenger.

Joaquin smiled down at you, something extremely close to fondness in his gaze. Despite only knowing each other for a couple of hours, you felt a connection with him you didn't feel with some people you had known your entire life.

Though his smile began to fade as you sped up your motions, moving your head ever faster, sucking as if your life depended on it. Based on the way his thighs shook, it took almost all of Joaquin's strength to move away from you, his dick leaving your mouth with a slight 'pop'.

"Not yet," he said, panting. "I don't want this to be over yet."

The grin you sent him was probably anything but seductive, with makeup, tears, and a hint of pre-cum running down your face, but you didn't care.

"Can't Falcon last more than one round?"

Joaquin stepped closer again, running a hand from your hair down your face until he could lift your head up even further. His hand didn't stop there, continuing until he had it wrapped around your throat. He didn't apply any pressure, but it was still there.

"Careful, pequeña."

It didn't take more than those two words for you to shut up, which you would never admit out loud was mostly due to the fact that you weren't sure your voice would work. Not with the low growl in his voice, the way his hand was wrapped around your throat. There was something about giving someone power over you, trusting him enough to know he won't abuse it.

Joaquin let go of you and took a step back, admiring you from afar. You felt wetness gathering between your thighs, threatening to leak out. He needed to touch you, now.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

His words took you by surprise. He had been so in charge just moments earlier and now he wanted you to take over? But a closer look at his stance, at the way he nonchalantly jerked his dick while looking at you told you that Joaquin was still very much in charge. "I want you to fuck me."

Joaquin nodded. He motioned to the bed, telling you what to do without words.

You were quick to follow his command, laying down on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could still see him. You expected him to resume his earlier position above you but Joaquin took you by surprise as he instead wrapped his hands around your thighs, pulling you further down on the bed until your legs hung off of it. Despite the surprise, you didn't interrupt him, you simply watched as he parted your legs and moved closer.

"I will," he said, eyes focused on your face before they moved down to your soaking cunt. "But I wanna make you come first."

You barely had time to register his words before he lowered his face. Joaquin blew against your pussy, making you shiver from the sensation, before he licked a single stripe, not yet parting your lips. Yet it was enough to make you moan so loud the neighbours could probably hear you. You both hated and loved how much of a tease he was.

Just as you were about to ask him to please, please hurry up, he sank his tongue all the way into your heat. The sensation was sudden and it took you a moment to adjust, a moment he wasn't ready to give you because as soon as he entered your pussy, he moved his tongue around, trying his best to find all the spots that made you squirm. It wasn't just his tongue that was giving you pleasure, as you began to move your hips to meet the thrusts of his tongue, you unconsciously rubbed your clit against his nose. The friction was just what you needed, and Joaquin seemed to sense that you were close to the edge, though judging by the moans that escaped your mouth and the way you pulled him closer to your pussy with the firm grip you had on his curls, it wasn't hard to deduct.

He mumbled something, you had no chance of knowing what it was, the sounds swallowed up by your cunt, but the vibrating sensation was incredible.

Just when you thought you wouldn't be able to handle any more, that you would combust at any second, Joaquin twisted his tongue, meeting a spot deep inside you he hadn't been able to reach before. It made you see stars.

One expert flick of his tongue against that spot, a single touch to your clit, and you were gone. Pleasure overtook you, made you loose control of your movements as you frantically rode his face, prolonging your orgasm.

It seemed like hours and seconds at once and by the time you came back to your senses, Joaquin's head was resting on your thigh, wetness glistening around his mouth as he smiled up at you.

"That was fucking incredible," he said, taking the words right out of your mouth.

You returned his smile, reaching out a hand to run through his hair, trying to thank him without words. "It was. You were."

He pressed a kiss to your thigh before lifting his head and making his way onto the bed until he was laying next to you.

"Me?" He asked as he twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "I wasn't doing anything, you were the one riding my face as if your life depended on it." He let go of your hair and instead let his hand trail down your body to your waist, using his newfound hold to pull you closer. "That was so hot."

You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his. You could feel his breath on your face, the way it stopped for just a moment as you closed your hand around his, gently holding it. "I'm a Stark, being hot is in my genes."

Joaquin let out a groan as he fell away from you on the bed. "You did not just bring up your family while we're naked in bed!"

You laughed. Maybe your timing had been a bit off but he was being overdramatic. But of course he began to protest when you told him that.

"Dramatic? Me? Never!"

You rolled your eyes. "Sure thing, you're always totally reasonable." Joaquin let his hand trail up your thigh, coming to rest just inches away from your pussy, which had just begun to dry up before his touch.

"You're way too cheeky for some completely at my mercy." Though there was a glint of humour in his eyes, his tone was serious.

"Am I at your mercy?"

A single finger dipped inside you, gathering your wetness before it left you again. Joaquin placed the finger on your lips. He looked at you and you didn't even need to be told what to do, you instantly wrapped your lips around the finger. It was weird tasting yourself but the way Joaquin's hip instinctively jerked forwards as you began to suck on his finger managed to distract you.

"Fuuuuuck." His groan was low, vibrating against you with how close your body was to his. It reminded you of the way he spoke with his tongue buried deep inside you.

You couldn't take it any longer, you needed all of him inside you, now! One swift movement and you held a condom in your hand that you had pulled out of the bag on your bedside table.

"Someone's prepared," Joaquin laughed. "Tell me the truth, did you plan all of this?"

You shook your head. "I just had one too many safe sex talks as a teenager."

He laughed again as he sat up and took the condom out of your hand. "I cannot imagine Tony Stark giving someone the talk."

Your mouth fell open in fake shock. "Who's bring my family up now? Is that your idea of dirty talk?"

Joaquin quickly pulled the condom over his rock hard dick before turning to face you. "Baby, you have no idea what dirty talk I'm capable of."

You cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really? Show me."

A moment later you found yourself on your back with Joaquin hovering above you once more. His mouth was close to your ear as he whispered in a low voice.

"I'm gonna fuck you until you see stars. I'll make you come so hard you'll forget everyone you've been with before. I'll get you addicted to my dick, you'll wish to be full of me every moment for the rest of your life."

He lifted his head to look into your eyes. You could really get lost in his dark eyes. Just hours ago at the party they had been filled with humour and kindness, now they glinted with dark desire. The way he looked at you distracted you from what was going on further down, only when his dick brushed against your clit did you realise he was lining himself up.

You ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder, lightly scratching it before you nodded.

That was all the permission Joaquin needed before he pushed inside you in one swift motion.

Joaquin's eyes never left yours. Despite his rough words earlier, he was now clearly looking for any signs of discomfort, though you were sure all he could find in your gaze was pleasure.

It had been a long time since you've slept with someone, you couldn't remember feeling this full, maybe you never were before.

Your mouth fell open in a soundless moan as Joaquin bottomed out. He stopped for a moment, letting you adjust to being filled with his dick. Only when you gave him a small nod did he begin to move. But it wasn't the slow stroke you had expected, Joaquin pulled out almost all the way before rapidly fucking into you. He set a brutal pace, one you couldn't wrap your head around. Pleasure overcame you faster than you had anticipated and by the time two of his fingers found your clit, you could have sworn you already came at least two times.

"You're so fucking tight. Perfect, so perfect," Joaquin groaned above you, his words almost swallowed by the loud moan that escaped you. "I'm not gonna last long, hermosa."

You shook your head, trying to agree, to tell him that you were right there with him.

Another snap of his hips and he hit a spot do deep within you you hadn't even known it existed until now.

"Fuck! Joaquin!" The sound that came out of your mouth wasn't a moan, it was something archaic, a guttural sound that could shake the earth.

You buried your fingers in his shoulder, sure to leave marks he'd discover in the morning. You did your best to try and meet his thrusts, to chase your pleasure the way you had earlier while at the same time searching for his mouth.

The kiss you finally managed to steal was all tongue and teeth, it was primal like the way he was fucking you and you wanted more, more, more.

"Close," you panted into the kiss, something you were sure Joaquin could tell by the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts became impossibly deeper, a bit slower until he finally bottomed out one last time. He came with your name on his lips and tears in the corners of his beautiful eyes. He looked like an angel. It was the look on his face that made you follow suit. This orgasm was even mightier than the one before. If you had seen stars before, now you saw whole new galaxies.

The moment Joaquin slowly pulled out, you realised he had been right. You would be wishing to have him inside you for the rest of you life, not that you'd admit that out loud.

"That was…" he began as he lay on his back beside you, still trying to catch his breath.

You didn't say anything and instead pressed a kiss to the side of his head. His hair was damp with sweat, messy from the way you had run your fingers through it all night.

"You're gonna stay the night, right?"

Joaquin turned to face you, a satisfied smile on his face. "I don't think I could leave even if I wanted to." He leaned closer, his lips meeting yours in a soft and lazy kiss. "Good thing I don't want to."

You smiled into the kiss.

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Thank you for the kind comments and all the love you showed the first chapter, I hope you'll enjoy this one as well <3

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres #falcon x you #falcon x reader #Captain America brave new world #mcu imagine #danny ramirez x reader

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