#DO I HAVE TO LIVE WITH THIS NOW FOR THE REST OF MY CAREER HERE.....HELP | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pampushky · 3 days

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Mon Petit Doudou

Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k

here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)

uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)

anyway lmk what ya think lmao

masterlist |

He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.

But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.

So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.

Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money.

Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.

“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.

“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”

“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”

If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot.

“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”

“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?”

The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos.

“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”

“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…”

“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”

“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.”

“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”

You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.

Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.

“Are you going to be good, mon chou?”

One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo.

Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.

“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.

ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)

Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.

“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”

He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.

Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)

The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.

“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”

“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”

“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”

“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become.

she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!!

The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.

“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.

He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back.

“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.”

Hot hot hot omg

You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed.

“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”

He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand.

What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)

Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down.

To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned.

An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs.

You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt.

so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25) Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa

Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case.

He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso.

“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”

“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…”

There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there.

The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him.

“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock.

You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t.

“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.

“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.

So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade.

Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release.

hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)

Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly.

But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making.

As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through.

I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)

It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations.

But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…

You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.

“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise.

For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace. “You’re all sweaty.”

“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”

That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”

“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”

“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”

“Sorry.”

You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol.

It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.

“Why’d you stop?”

The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give submit body to him looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work.

“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,”

“What if I want you to?”

Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out.

“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”

“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”

“It’s— it’s not about the porn—”

“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you. You seem to like me.”

“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”

“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”

He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away.

The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.

“What?”

“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.

“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”

“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?”

Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing.

“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all.

“We make porn together!”

“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”

“You’re both gay.”

“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”

Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”

“What?”

“How did you respond to her asking you out?”

His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face.

“I panicked?”

“How badly?”

“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?

Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conger up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss.

“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”

“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”

“Gross.”

“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”

“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”

Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again.

That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end.

Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you.

“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”

“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”

That piques some interest.

“What?”

“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold.

“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”

“English, Charles.”

“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”

“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”

Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you.

His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.

“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.

Did you also get this?

It seems… uhm, interesting.

Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly.

I’m not doing any of that.

That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.

…okay.

Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood.

It’s not your fault

Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou

I kinda feel like it is…

I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this

I am sorry, Charles.

Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces.

“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”

Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.

You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going.

And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.

Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)

The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing.

“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”

Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)

Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over.

He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.

“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”

The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—

Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)

Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.

“M’sorry— wanna be good—”

“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry, right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”

You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)

Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.

Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)

When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.

The donation makes him see red.

Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)

You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did.

“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”

“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”

It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it.

“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”

“In my bed,”

“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”

“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”

“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”

“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”

“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline.

“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes.

“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”

“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”

The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him.

“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you

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thewritingrowlet · 2 months

Text

The Determined Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal, breeding, daddy kink

word count: 6k+

author's note: well, here's the continuation of The Loving Wife—I hope you like this one

p.s. I want to write about Isa or Seeun next; I hope I have ideas for that.

“Hngh? Huh?”, you mumble as your brain kick-starts your body on a brand-new day. As the rest of your consciousness returns to you, you feel weight on the left side of your body. “Who?”, you take a sniff, “oh, Irene”. After getting a grip on the time and day, you close your eyes to get back to sleep. That is, until you feel Irene poking your cheek. “Good morning, my love”, you greet her with closed eyes. “Good morning, honey”, Irene yawns audibly, “do you have work today?”. You tighten your arms around her, “let’s not start our day like that”. “How do you want to start, then?”, she asks, letting out another yawn after, “do you want to breed me first thing in the morning?”. “God, not this breeding thing again”, you think to yourself, “love, are you that serious about getting pregnant?”. You feel Irene rubbing her face against your chest, “I want to have your child—our child”.

You get on top of your wife and hover closely above her face while your hands are planted on either side of her face, “how badly do you want it?”. In the dark, you see Irene smile warmly, “I want it so fucking bad; I want to make you happy”. You clap your hands twice to turn on the lights—God bless modern technology. “Love, you know I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want to burden you with a child—not to mention that you also have a career to pursue”, you try to reason with her. Irene furrows her eyebrows in anger, dissatisfied by your words, “if you use my career against me one more time, I’m leaving you”. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you, “honey, please; I didn’t mean it like that. Surely you know what I’m getting at”. Irene frees her wrists from your grip and crosses her arms, her gaze straying away from yours, “I don’t want to talk to you today. You can go to work if you want to”.

Irene’s behavior leaves you no choice but to give her some space and hope that time will help her come to reason. “I love you, honey”, you dare say, and a part of you expects a slap on the cheek. Seeing that you’re not getting a response from Irene, you get off the bed and get ready for the day ahead. Since you don’t have eyes on your nape, you can’t see that Irene sheds a tear as she feels rejected by you, the person she can’t live without—the love of her life.

“Good morning, boss!”, Miss Park greets you excitedly as soon as you enter the company building. “Hi, hello. Good morning”, you return her greeting and shake her hand. “You look like you have a lot of things going on right now”, she comments. You let out a heavy sigh, “I do, actually; had a little disagreement with my wife, and she said she wouldn’t talk to me for the rest of the day”. “Ah, sorry about that, boss”, Miss Park, not expecting such answer, clears her throat to cope with the awkwardness, “anyway, you don’t have much today, sir; just proposals and other paperwork to read and sign”. “Thank you, Miss Park”, you part ways with her in front of the elevator that leads to your office.

You start your routine of hanging your suit jacket on the headrest of your chair and waking up your computer from its slumber. “That’s a lot of emails—how are there 22, man?”, you eye the list of unread emails on your screen, and you see that some of them are paid leave applications that are pending your approval.

When you started your company, you made a commitment to approve such applications without questions and encourage department heads under your command to follow suit. It’s not like it’s a complicated process, anyway; one just needs to fill out a form they can get from HR, ask their manager and head of department to sign it, and then wait for your approval. Such simple steps are set in place to make sure that employees can take a leave in a timely manner—no need to be kneeling and begging for this. Combined with the rules the company has set, you’ve seen reports from employees saying that they’re satisfied with your system.

“Oh, his child is hospitalized; I should visit them later”, you comment as you see an application from a certain Mr. Lee Minhyung from the marketing department. “That’s one down; a few more to go”. You click on the arrow to go to the next email, one from Miss Kim Minjeong, “wait, that’s Mr. Lee’s wife, no?”. Of course you remember; HR notified you by letter and asked you to fire one of them when they learned that they were a married couple.

You read the content of the email, and obviously, she’s also applying for a paid leave; it’s their child who is hospitalized. “Yeah, easy”, you apply your digital signature on the letter as a sign of approval, just like you did with her husband’s. As you’re moving your cursor to go to the next, you wonder what it’s like to have a child, and importantly, what it’s like to be in a crisis involving your child. “I wonder if Irene is ready for such situations”, you sigh, “why are you so determined to have a child, my love?”.

“Miss Park, tell Mr. Oh to put the parcel in the car; I’m coming down in a bit”, you say to your secretary over the phone. After getting an answer from her, you put on your jacket and walk out of your office, towards the elevator.

You see a handful of heads of departments on your way down, as they take the same elevator you are. “Any news, ladies and gentlemen?”, you ask. “My son is getting married next week, director—you’re invited to the wedding, by the way”, Mr. Shim, head of IT, shares the good news with you. You shake his hand firmly, “congratulations, Mr. Shim. Send me the details and I’ll be there”.

The rest of your conversations with them are cut short when the elevator stops and opens on the bottom floor, indicating your time to leave. “I’m going to visit someone’s child at the hospital; I’ll see you later”, you exchange goodbyes with the crowd and turn around towards Mr. Oh and Miss Park who are already waiting for you next to your car.

“Is everything in there?”, you ask Miss Park. “Yes, sir. Would you like to be driven for?”, she asks. You shake your head, “no, but I want you to come with me; I’ll need help carrying these stuff—c’mon, let’s go”. You get in your car with Miss Park and drive to the hospital, where the child is hospitalized.

“Excuse me, director”, Miss Park starts a conversation as the two of you wait at the red light, “I know this is presumptuous of me, but can I ask what’s happening between you and your wife?”. “She wants to have a child, Miss Park—that’s all you need to know”, you explain briefly, “why?”. Miss Park pulls out a small envelope from her jacket, “your wife stopped by earlier and gave me this”. You take the envelope from her hands and put it in your pocket, “thanks, I’ll see what this is about later”.

You walk with Miss Park towards the child’s room with your hands full of stuff. You’re carrying a basket of fruits in one hand and a box of pudding in the other, while Miss Park is carrying some food for the parents. “Knock on the door, Miss Park. My hands are full”, you gesture to her with your head. Miss Park knocks three times, and not long after, the door swings open. “Director! Miss Park!”, Mr. Lee exclaims, “wha-what are you doing here?”. “Hi there”, you smile, “oh, y’know, just wanted to see your son; maybe I can lift his spirits or something”.

Mr. Lee welcomes you in, and you immediately make eye contact with the boy lying in bed. “Hey, bud. How are you feeling?”, you show him a friendly side of you. He smiles weakly and tells you that he’s feeling better compared to yesterday. “That’s great to hear”, you show him the bag with the pudding in it, “I have some pudding for you, buddy—ask your mom to cut it for you, okay?”. The boy giggles in excitement, and you feel a surge of warmth that you don’t think you’ve felt before.

You grab a chair and sit next to him after handing the stuff to Mr. Lee and his wife. “Hey, buddy”, you gently rub the back of his hand that’s not connected to the IV drip, “what happened to you?”. “I remember feeling weak and blacking out at school, but I don’t remember anything else, sir”, he recalls. “You must’ve been so tired after studying so hard, haven’t you?”, you look over your shoulder and see that Mr. Lee and his wife are smiling at you, seemingly in approval of your actions, “your parents must be proud of you, bud; you look like someone who works hard for school”. The boy beams, and he decides to brag about his grades, “I got a 90 on my last math test, sir!”. You chuckle out loud and pet his head gently, “oi, great job, you! Hey, guess what: I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to school after you leave this place—how does that sound, buddy?”.

You leave the boy’s side after getting a high five from him, and it is now time to speak with his parents. Mr. Lee shakes your hand, “thank you so much, director. About my work—“. You cut Mr. Lee off with a pause gesture, “please, let’s not worry about that right now; I’m not here to talk about your work. Your son is more important than any work, Mr. Lee”. He smiles and bows in gratefulness, “thank you so much, director. I promise I will always work hard”. You pat him on the back while laughing, “you like making me get richer, don’t you, Mr. Lee?”.

When you turn your attention to Miss Kim, she bows in respect. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Director. It means a lot to us”, she says. It must be true that it only uses two muscles to smile, because you’re not tired of smiling—not even in the slightest. “I’m just trying to help the both of you—ah, can I address the both of you casually? We’re not at the office, are we?”, you say to Miss Kim and her husband. Miss Kim nods, “of course you can, director. Feel free to call us by name”.

You grab the bag of food from the table and hand it to them, “I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, please eat now; I have some sandwich for both of you. Miss Park will keep an eye on your son”. Mr. Kim and his wife say goodbye to their son and tell him that Miss Park will stay with him while they eat, getting a nod in response. “Can we talk while you eat, actually?”, you say to them, and they nod at you, “follow me outside, please”.

You sit on the sofa near the nurses’ station with the couple. “I have some questions if you don’t mind, Minhyung-ah”, you initiate the conversation. “Of course, director. Ask away”, he says. You start by explaining your situation first, “here’s the thing, my wife has been begging me to make her pregnant, and admittedly, I’ve been rejecting her request because she has quite the career and I don’t want her to just throw it away, considering how long it has taken her to build it”. Mr. Lee and Miss Kim look at each other before turning back to you, “I’m guessing you’re curious what it’s like to have a child, especially as a working couple”. “That’s spot-on, Minhyung-ah”, you give him a thumbs-up, “so, can you tell me?”.

“I’ll start first—y’know, as a dad and all that”, Mr. Lee takes a deep breath before sharing his perspective, “personally, director, we were also concerned about our careers at first, but having a child has been the greatest thing in our lives”. Truthfully, you’re surprised to hear such an answer, but before you make any judgment, you ask Miss Kim to share her thoughts first. “I agree with my husband, Mr. Director”, Miss Kim says, “I must say, though, seeing your child get sick hurts so damn bad—this isn’t the first time Daeyoung-ie has been hospitalized, and seeing him lie in bed like that hurts so, so much”. You want to open your mouth, but Miss Kim isn’t done talking just yet. “I can’t explain it but love for your child isn’t similar to love for your spouse, director—something about being willing to do anything for your child isn’t comparable to anything else”, she piles on.

You stay silent as you try to process everything you just heard. “That’s quite the answer, actually”, you rub your chin, “I’ll talk with my wife about it, I guess”. Mr. Lee glances at his wife quickly before turning back to you, “I don’t know about you, director, but the process of making a child is very, uh, fun”. You chuckle out loud, and you see that Miss Kim is smacking her husband while blushing. “I’m sure it is, Minhyung-ah—I mean, look at you: clearly you had fun”, you shake your head in amusement, “alright, Miss Park and I will be leaving after this. I’ll keep my promise and buy your son some new shoes after he’s out of this place, but you’ll need to remind me”.

Irene’s Genesis is parked at its usual spot in front of your house, and you feel excited to talk with her about getting her pregnant. You get out of the car after parking it next to hers and run straight to the house. “I’m ho—what the fuck!?”, you see Irene lying on the carpet in front of the TV with nothing but bra and panties on. “Irene? Love?”, you slap her cheeks gently but rapidly to get her to open her eyes, “honey, wake up, please”. You look around the house for signs of what has happened, and you see a tall bottle of whiskey that is almost empty sitting on the table in front of the sofa—no shot glass means that she must’ve drunk it straight from the bottle.

“I… hate you…”, Irene says weakly, her eyelids too heavy to open, “s-stay away f-from me”. Not the best thing you could hear right now, but you’re glad that she’s okay, just drunk—verydrunk. “Let’s move you to the bedroom, okay?”, you carry her bridal style—it reminds you of your first day of being married, actually—and walk towards the bedroom. “P-put me down, y-you bastard”, Irene wiggles around, attempting to free herself from your arms, “I-I’m calling the police if-if you don’t put me down”. Irene has never been this drunk before, and honestly, you don’t know how to take care of her in this state—doesn’t mean you won’t try, though.

You place her on the floor momentarily while you grab a blanket and spread it on the bed. You pick up your wife from the floor and put her in the middle of the blanket and wrap her body with it, just in case she loses control of her actions and starts throwing punches or kicks. “W-what are you doing to me, you asshole—let me go!”, Irene tries to free herself from the blanket burrito, but since she’s very drunk, she’s not strong enough to do anything other than to run her mouth. “Love, it’s me”, you softly say to her, “you’re very drunk, aren’t you, baby?”. “Heheheheh”, Irene laughs, seemingly mocking you, “me? drunk? I’m on cloud nine right now, baby—had to-to take care of myself since my husband wouldn’t”.

Her words sound particularly painful to you right now. You went from feeling excited about talking to her about having a child, to feeling sad about the sight in front of you, and you feel powerless to do anything but let tears run down your cheeks. “Alcohol brings out the best of us, doesn’t it, love?”, you wipe your tears, hoping that doing so will help you calm down faster, “I guess this is how we wrap things up today”.

In your peaceful sleep, you’re shown glimpses of what having a child would be like. First, you’re shown a projection of Irene with a big belly; “we have a child, love! I’m so happy to have a child!”, she says. You really want to keep watching this clip, but your brain wants to move on to the next, which is one where Irene is doing tiny jumps while holding your baby, who is wrapped in a small blanket; “who is my good boy, hm? Who is my lovely, handsome boy?”. Like before, your brain quickly moves on to the next part of your dreams. You’re shown images in quick succession of your child taking his first steps, going to school for his first day, and finally, the moment where he makes a vow to never stop loving his wife, and to continue to be with her until death do them part—the speed makes it almost feels like someone is holding down the right arrow key during a PowerPoint presentation.

As soon as the presentation finishes, you’re stirred awake by your brain, as if telling you to start working on making it into reality. Your ability to vividly remember dreams isn’t always helpful because you can indeed remember everything, no matter how scary or joyful it is. “I had a dream, baby”, you say in a soft voice to Irene, who is still wrapped in a blanket, “I saw what it’d be like if we had a child—it was such a beautiful dream, my love”. You rub her exposed cheeks gently as you narrate the rest of your dream to your wife.

“Ah, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, love. I’ll go back to sleep now—good morning, by the way”, you say to her as you close your eyes and get ready to get back to sleep. “Wait!”, Irene exclaims in a tiny voice, taking you by surprise, “wait, don’t go back to sleep yet”. You lift your head off your pillow and take a good look at your wife. “Are you alright, love?”, you ask her, trying to gauge her mood. With how limited her mobility is in the burrito, Irene can only shake her head. “N-no, I’m not”, she starts tearing up, “p-please hold me in your arms”.

You unwrap the blanket and hold Irene in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about the blanket, love. I was just concerned about you punching or kicking me while being drunk”, you spray pecks on her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry”, Irene apologizes as tears start freely flowing out of her eyes, “I-I didn’t have anyone to talk to, s-so I resorted to drinking—please forgive me, my love”. Since Irene is in the mood for apologies, you decide to follow it up with one of yours; “I got your letter yesterday, love. I understand what you were saying, and I’m sorry for not calling you or saying anything back”. Irene shakes her head, “n-no, it-it’s okay, I understand. I-I was just so fucking desperate to do something, s-so I decided to write you a letter”.

As soon as Irene stops crying, you move on to the next subject, which is your little trip to the hospital to visit your employee’s son. “Love, I visited someone’s son at the hospital yesterday”, you say to her, “he fainted at school and was taken to the hospital after that”. “Oh, poor boy”, Irene comments, showing empathy, “so, what then?”. You tell her that you and Miss Park brought some stuff for the boy and his parents; “I also promised him that I’d buy him some new shoes to wear to school”. Irene pecks your cheek as a sign of approval of your actions, “good thinking, my love”.

“Not just that, though”, you pile on, “I also asked the parents what it was like to see their son lie in bed sick like that”. “Yeah? What did they say?”, she asks. You take a deep breath first, “they said that it’s such a painful sight—this wasn’t the first time the boy had been hospitalized, by the way”. Irene can sense that something else is coming from you, so she urges you to keep going. “I just kept thinking about whether you’d be ready for such thing, should it happen to us and our child”.

Irene holds your hands tightly and rubs the back of them gently. “I’ll need you to be with me every step of the way. If I have you next to me, I’ll face anything head on”, she says. You put on an assuring smile, “of course I’ll be there with you, love. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, is it?”.

Irene gathers her strength and mounts your body, “does that mean you’ll be breeding me? That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”. You run your thumb across her lips, “yes, love, but I want you to do something first”. “What? What is it? Tell me”, Irene starts getting excited at the prospect of getting pregnant. “We’ll be having a lot of sex in the next few days, so I want you to grab a pen and paper and write down your consent so that I won’t have to keep asking”, you say to her. Irene jumps off the bed and runs—or stumbles, rather—out of the bedroom to do what you ask, and while you wait for her, you decide to get ready for sex; you take off your clothes but leave the boxers on for Irene to do the honors and lie down on the bed.

“Here! Here!”, Irene enters the bedroom running and shows you a small piece of paper. You grab the letter from her hands, “let’s see what you wrote, hey?”.

“My name is Bae ‘Irene’ Joohyun, and I am the wife of Director Kang Junho.

I hereby declare that I consent to everything that my beloved husband will be doing to me, as we are trying to have a child of our own. If he wishes to have sex, then I shall comply without asking questions, for I am his beloved wife.

His for eternity,

Irene”

“I know you’re still hungover, but I’ll accept this anyway”, you chuckle as you climb onto the bed, “are we ready?”. Irene joins you in bed and kneels next to you, looking down at herself. “Lo-love”, she says with a tiny voice, “I-I know your dream was about a son, b-but you—erm—you don’t mind having a daughter, do you?”. You take her hands in yours, “of course not, love. Having a child is already such a blessing—it matters little if it’s a boy or a girl”. Irene looks at you with a smile, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”. “Nah-nah-nah”, you deflect, “you just kept saying breed me over and over again”. Irene moves to sit on your lap and pecks you on the lips, “I mean, that’s how a woman gets pregnant”.

“My love, listen to me, please”, you inhale deeply, “I promise you this will be the last time I ask this: what about your career?”. Irene rubs your cheek gently, “love, I don’t care about my career; motherhood will be my greatest achievement—ask me one hundred more times, and I’ll give you the same answer each time”. You move to sit with Irene in your lap. “I will be there with you, love; I’ll be the best father I can be for our children”. “Children?”, Irene bursts out in laughter, “goodness me—now you want to have more than one”.

That’s enough yapping and laughing—it’s now time to fill your wife with baby batter. You place your palms on either side of Irene’s hips and lock eyes with her, confusing her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, she asks. You smirk, “just thinking about what position I want to fuck you in”. She blushes in response, “w-whatever it is, m-make sure you cum inside”.

You scoot backwards until your back can lean against the headboard. “You want me to ride you, honey?”, she asks, “but what if the cum drips out?”. You shrug, “I’ll just fill you up again”. “Yeah, we can do that”, Irene unlatches her bra and hands it to you, “hold on to this, honey”. Let’s be real, you have better things to hold on to, such as her ass and tits—eh, actually, let’s entertain her for now.

Irene fondles her tits, weighing them with her hands, “do you think they’ll grow bigger, honey?”. You shake your head, clueless, “I don’t know how it works, love. We’ll have to see”. She then holds your hands and places them on her tits, “touch me, please”. “Gladly, baby”, you lick her nipple to tease her.

Irene is great at reacting to stimulations; you’re barely doing anything with her tits, and she’s already squirming around. “Mo-more”, Irene yelps, “oh, please—more”. “Do you think you can give me some breast milk right now?”, you tease her as you squeeze her tits, as if trying to get breast milk out of them. “Prob-probably not”, Irene throws her head back, “I-I don’t think it works like that”. “Ah, unfortunate”, you pinch her nipples, “would love to taste some right now”. It is when you latch your mouth on her boob that Irene starts moaning loudly. “Oh, yes, big baby”, Irene palms the back of your head, “big baby can make small babies”. You want to laugh, but you haven’t had enough of your wife’s tits just yet.

Irene’s impatience is showing, as she picks up the pace of her humps. “Please fuck me already”, she begs, “don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to fill me?”. You reach down towards your crotch and hers, “you’re so wet, aren’t you, love?”. “And-and you’re so hard”, she replies. “You know why I’m hard, baby?”, you ask, teasing her one last time. “Y-you—oh, God—you’re hard because you want to fuck me”. You praise her by pinching her nipples, “good answer, baby—now let’s start, hm?”.

You lean back against the headrest and tell Irene that she’s free to do whatever she wants with you. You see that Irene wants to free your cock from your boxers, so you help her out and lift your butt off the bed momentarily. “Who needs a career when you can just spend your days worshipping a cock like this?”, Irene utters, her eyes locked on your erection, “skip work this week, please. It’s not like they can fire you”. True, no one can fire you, but there’s something odd about not going to work, especially as the big boss. “I’ll see what I can do, baby”, you promise her. You keep an eye on Irene, “do you want to suck me off first, baby?”. Your words snap Irene out of her little trance, stopping her from mindlessly stroking your cock; “n-no, let’s skip past that”.

Irene takes off her panties and guides your cock towards her entrance. “I want you so bad, baby”, you egg her on. It is an exaggeration, yeah, but it always works—look, Irene is going down on your cock while moaning! “Oppa”, she calls you by an endearment from way back when, “do you remember our first time?”. You start flipping the pages of your memory to recollect and find the memory with little trouble. “How can I not, love?”, you smile, “you’re my first and only”. Irene lets out a soft yelp when she finally manages to fit your whole shaft inside. “Y-you let me be on top be-because you wanted me to get used to you”, Irene closes her eyes and starts rolling her hips back and forth, “you were splitting me in half, oppa”. Irene’s tight-but-wet grip makes you moan, “it was really hard for me to not just bust right away right there, love”. “Yeah?”, Irene teases with a smirk, “let’s see how long you can hold it in now”.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you grit your teeth, “I love it—I love you”. Irene likes dirty talk, but words of love and affirmation work better on her, proven by how she’s picking up the pace of her bounces. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”, she yells, “I’m perfect for you, daddy!”. You pull her closer to your face so that you can kiss her and show her how much you love her. “Come on, baby. You can do this—fuck, you’re so good to me”, you whisper to her. She plants her forehead on your shoulder and begs for help; “please, please fuck me like you usually do, daddy”. You comply to her request by thrusting up and meeting her in the middle, timing it perfectly to make sure that you can reach her deepest spots.

Irene’s moans are one of the many things you will never get tired of in your marriage. The perfect mix of low- and high-pitched moans (and the occasional yelps and screams, too) makes you feel really good about yourself every single time—the daddy kink is simply the perfect icing on the cake. You don’t really pay attention to yourself, so you don’t know what you look like or what sounds you make during sex, but considering that Irene never complains about it, she probably finds you very attractive during sex—nothing that kills the mood or the like.

“You’re squeezing me, baby”, your focus is turned back to Irene, “you want to cum?”. Irene nods weakly, “please let me cum, daddy”. You never said anything about not letting her cum, but since she’s asking very nicely, she’s more than welcome to cum any time—preferably soon, though; you’re almost on the edge yourself. “Cum for me, baby”, you egg her on, “if you cum now, I’ll breed you”.

Timing couldn’t be any more perfect, as Irene announces that she’s about to cum after a few more bounces. She lets out a very loud scream, but it’s more than fine; it’s not like there’s anyone else in this house other than the two of you—even if the breeding is successful and she’s pregnant, the fruit of the labor won’t be here for another 9 months, so until then, Irene is free to be as loud as she wants.

Irene falls limp to the side, feeling weak from her orgasm, and you use this window to take a breather and get yourself together. “One-one second, please”, Irene squirms around as she basks in the high of her orgasm. “You can take as much time as you want, baby”, you run your hand back and forth on her back to soothe her, “I bet you can’t feel your legs right now”. She chuckles with heavy breaths, “that-that’s your fault, daddy”. You tell her that she can rest while you leave to get some water for her.

When you return, however, you see that Irene’s eyes are closed, and when you lean closer to her, you hear subtle snores coming out of her mouth. You set the glasses of water on the bedside table and pick up the letter to re-read what she’s written. “I consent to everything”, it says, and you’re tempted to push her further. “Let’s see if you’re ready for anal”, you mutter under your breath.

She’s lying flat on her stomach, which allows you access to her rear without having to move her. You make sure that your cock isn’t too dry by slathering spit on the whole thing before you try to pierce her ass. You plant your knees on either side of her closed thighs and spread her cheeks gently to find your target. Even though she has said that she consents to everything, you don’t want to do anything sexual to her while she’s asleep. “Irene, baby”, you pat her cheeks gently to wake her up, “we’re not done yet”. Irene stirs awake and turns her head to look at you, “sorry, daddy; I fell asleep”. You peck the back of her head and tell her that it’s okay. “I’m going again, okay?”.

“Wait, wait—that-that’s not where you breed me, daddy”, Irene grunts in pain when she feels you in her ass. “Consider this your punishment for falling asleep”, you grit your teeth, “fuck, you’re so tight here, too”. “B-but you said it’s okay—AH, FUCK, DADDY!”, Irene lets out a very loud scream when your shaft reaches the deepest point of her ass. “Say your safe word, then”, you challenge her, and Irene shakes her head in response. “N-no, I love getting fucked in the ass”, she grunts, “just don’t cum in my ass, please”. “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we’re trying to get her pregnant”, you think to yourself. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go back to your pussy after this”.

You lean forward a bit and place your hands on the bed to make sure you’re steady. “Be good, baby”, you whisper to her while you prepare your hips to fuck her ass hard. “Pl-please, just fuck me already”, Irene yelps, “fuck my ass, daddy”. That’s a green light as bright as any, so you start doing what you’re in this position for: to fuck her ass.

Irene’s screams of pain start getting replaced with moans of pleasure, as she gets more comfortable with taking you in the ass. “You’re so hard and big, daddy”, she praises you between moans, “you’re so good at fucking me”. Her praise serves as fuel to your fire of lust, and with a grunt, you pick up the pace of your thrusts. Your wife is reduced to just moans, unable to do anything else but lie flat on the bed while your shaft is stretching the muscles of her rear.

You feel that you’re almost there, so you pull out of her ass and roll her onto her back. “I want to see you, baby”, you say to her before plunging back into her pussy. She feebly stretches out her arms, asking you to hold her in yours. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her body, while your lips crash into hers. “We’re going to have a child, baby”, you say in a soft voice.

“Mr. Kang, your wife is about to give birth. Would you like to be present?”, a nurse asks you. “Yes, please”, you get up from the bench, “please show me the way”. The nurse starts walking towards the room where your wife is, and you feel cold sweat running down your forehead. As you follow the nurse, you pray to the higher beings that your wife and daughter will make it out of this in perfect health.

“She’s here, sir”, the nurse opens a door and leads you inside. “Oh my God”, you exclaim; Irene is pinching her thighs until they’re bruised while the rest of her body is drenched in sweat. “My love”, you move to her side and hold her hand to stop her from pinching her thighs, “my God, how can I help you, baby?”.

More and more nurses enter the room, and all you can do is trust them to do what they do best, which is to help during delivery. You try to focus on your wife, but her screams and the nurses’ voices make it very hard for you to do so. One particular scream from Irene wrenches your heart, making you shed a tear. “God, help her, please”, you chant in your head over and over again, praying in your earnest for her and your daughter’s safety.

You slowly open your eyes, and you try to make out where you are right now. You gather your strength and stand up from your seat to check up on Irene. “Wait, that’s—“, you rub your eyes to make clear of the sight in front of you. “This is our daughter, honey”, Irene says tearily, “we have a daughter”. “Oh my God, what a blessing”, you let out a sigh of relief, “what happened to me, though? How did I get here?”. Irene places a hand on your cheeks and rubs it softly, “a nurse said that you passed out, so they had to carry you here”. You feel bad for them for having to carry you as a dead weight and you promise that you’ll compensate them later.

“Love, we have a daughter”, Irene repeats as she breaks down in tears, “we have a daughter—can you believe that?”. You place a hand on Irene’s head to soothe her, while you use your other hand to reach for your little daughter. “Hi, baby”, you say gently, “welcome to the world, little one”. The sight makes you shed tears of your own—who knew it would turn out like this, because you certainly didn’t. “What’s her name, honey?”, Irene asks. “Yeseo”, you wipe the tears off your cheeks and peck your daughter over the blanket that’s covering her (because you don’t want to compromise her hygiene or something like that), “your name is Yeseo, my dear—my sweet, sweet daughter”.

“Welcome home!”, you excitedly open the doors of your house and lead your wife and daughter, who is peacefully sleeping in her arms, inside. Once they’re in, you close the doors behind you and lead them to sit on the sofa. “I love you so much, baby”, you say to Irene. “I love you so much more, honey”, she replies, “and I love you so much, Yeseo-yah”. You look at your daughter lovingly, and you really want to give her a peck. “Can I peck her, love?”, you ask your wife, earning a laugh from her. “Of course you can; you’re her father”.

Irene hands Yeseo over to you, and you make sure that your arms are perfectly steady. “Yeseo-yah, I love you so much”, you say in the gentlest voice you can come up with, “I will protect you and your mother with my life”. Obviously, she can’t say anything back to you, but you’d like to think that she can hear you, and what’s better for Yeseo to hear first thing than words of love from her parents?

“Love, I want to celebrate”, you say to your wife, your gaze still locked on your baby. “Yeah? How?”, Irene asks, “you want to make more babies?”. “Seriously?”, you look at her with an I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that face, “no, love; I don’t want to make another one just yet”. Irene laughs out loud, “oh, you know, I was just making sure—so how do you want to celebrate?”. You gently run a finger on Yeseo’s cheek, “I want to make her birthday a holiday at the company, and I want to raise everyone’s salary by 8%”. Your wife moves to sit closer to you and wraps an arm around your back, “yeah, that sounds like a good celebration”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #red velvet smut #irene smut

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ravcnism · 3 months

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HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!

STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.

# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda

# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??

Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.

Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”

Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”

“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”

“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”

“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”

Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”

The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”

“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”

“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”

“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”

“Understood.”

With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.

His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.

"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”

The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.

“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”

“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.

“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”

Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.

The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”

His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.

“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.

He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”

“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”

The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.

He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.

“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”

He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.

“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”

The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”

Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.

Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”

The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”

You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.

“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”

The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.

But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.

The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.

You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.

You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.

And you did.

Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.

His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.

He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.

“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”

You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.

Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.

Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.

Then you winked.

Shit.

You threw the ball. Ken swung.

But he missed.

The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.

And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.

Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.

Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”

Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.

“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”

This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.

Point.

Pull.

Throw.

Swing.

This time, the ball made contact.

The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.

“Safe!”

The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.

And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.

Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.

Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.

And there'd be the after-party to boot.

#ultraman rising #x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x male reader #kenji sato x male reader #ken sato #ken sato x you #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader

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wonyowonyo · 2 months

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Tales of Arcana (Y. "Karina" Jimin X M! Reader)

Alas! The much awaited Karina oneshot is finally here. I actually was wrong when I stated earlier that I was finished with the story, since I had to do many last minute revisions that my back hurts like a bitch rn. I actually tried new things in this fic, such as using your perspective instead of the usual 3rd Person stuff. This is also my first time writing a fantasy-themed oneshot! So I'm apologizing in advance if it may seem like a mess, as I tried my best to finish this as a whole before I take my awaited rest. And this is also my longest work right now, reaching 7.5k! I never knew I could write that much lmao. Anyways, enough with the yapping and let's actually get into this one! Hope yall enjoy this one and I'll catch yall next time, wonyowonyo out!

New Arcadia is a city of contrasts, where magic and technology intertwine in a delicate dance. The neon lights of the skyscrapers illuminate the streets below, casting eerie glows on the cobblestones and alleyways. Magic is everywhere—in the air you breathe, the water you drink, and the very fabric of reality itself.

You, Y/N, are a Disenchanter, a specialist in nullifying magical artifacts and spells. Once, you had a promising career at the Arcane Institute, a prestigious institution dedicated to the study and control of magic. But an experiment and an incident gone wrong five years ago changed everything. Branded a pariah and a traitor, you were banished and forced fled into the underbelly of the city, where you now work at 'The Gloom,' a bar that caters to New Arcadia's magical misfits and outcasts.

The Gloom is a haven for those who live on the fringes of society. The patrons are a mix of spell-slingers, rogue alchemists, and enchanted creatures, each more bizarre than the last. Your boss, Grimgar, is a grumpy old troll who treats you like just another cog in his crumbling empire. Your coworkers are a motley crew of fae and shapeshifters who come and go like the wind.

Tonight is like any other. The bar is packed with its usual clientele, and you're busy mixing potion-infused cocktails behind the bar. As you work, you notice a familiar figure enter the bar. It's Karina, a former colleague from the Arcane Institute. Her eyes meet yours, and a flicker of recognition crosses her face.

"Y/N! You're here? I thought you were... well, vanished into the ether."

Your heart skips a beat. You quickly make your way over to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her outside before she can say more. As you leave, you hear her tell her companions she'll be back soon, claiming, "My old friend wants a private chat. Who am I to refuse?" Their laughter echoes as you exit out the back door into a dimly lit alley.

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Once in the alley, you release Karina and hiss, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Karina's eyes glint in the dim light. "I didn't even know you were still around. Rumor was that you angered the Elder Council, and they put a curse on you. Every bounty hunter in the city was after you."

You shove her away. "That's right. I had no place to hide, so I fled to this corner of New Arcadia to lay low... What was supposed to be temporary became five years."

Karina smirks. "Actually, I'm working on a big heist. There's a relic in the heart of the city, guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights. My team isn't up to the task, but you... you could nullify the defences."

You shake your head, turning away. "Not a chance. That life is over. I have a new one now."

As you start to return to the bar, you hear the distinct click of a magical ward activating. Karina's voice is cold. "You know, Y/N, there's still a bounty on your head, and I'm willing to collect."

You freeze, realizing the trap you're in. You turn slowly to face her, your mind racing. "What's your game, Karina?"

Karina steps closer, her expression softening slightly. "I don't want to turn you in, Y/N. I need your help. This heist is important. It's not just about the relic—there's more at stake than you know."

You narrow your eyes. "And why should I trust you?"

Karina sighs. "Because we were friends once. Because I know you, and I believe you're the only one who can pull this off. And because if you don't help me, the consequences will be far worse than anything the bounty hunters could do to you."

Reluctantly, you agree to hear Karina out. She leads you to a hidden safehouse in the depths of New Arcadia, where her team is waiting. The team is a ragtag group of specialists, each with their own unique skills.

Karina lays out the plan. The relic they're after is an ancient artifact known as the Heart of Thalos, hidden deep within a fortified vault in the heart of the city. The vault is guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights, and protected by powerful magical wards. Your role is crucial—you'll need to nullify the wards and the dragon's defences to give the team a fighting chance.

The plan is risky, but you can't deny the thrill of the challenge. It's been years since you've done anything like this, and part of you misses the excitement. As you listen to Karina's detailed strategy, you begin to see the pieces falling into place.

However, you're still hesitant. The life of a Disenchanter isn't what you want anymore. You've built a new life, a quieter one, away from the chaos of magic and danger. Just as you're about to decline, a commotion erupts outside the safehouse. A group of bounty hunters has tracked you down, having followed Karina's trail.

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The bounty hunters storm the safehouse, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. Karina's team springs into action, defending their hideout with everything they've got. You find yourself in the thick of it, your Disenchanter skills becoming the key to survival.

As spells fly and blades clash, you focus on nullifying the attackers' magic. With each gesture, you dispel their enchantments, turning the tide in your favor. Giselle's brute strength keeps the enemies at bay, while Winter's agility and Ninging's illusions create confusion and chaos among the bounty hunters.

Karina fights alongside you, her combat prowess just as sharp as you remember. Together, you push back the attackers, slowly gaining the upper hand. The battle is fierce, but eventually, the last bounty hunter falls, their spells fizzling out as they collapse.

In the aftermath of the fight, you realize the gravity of the situation. The bounty on your head isn't going away, and neither is the danger that comes with it. You look at Karina, who is nursing a minor wound from the battle.

"Fine," you say, breathing heavily. "I'll help you with the heist. But this doesn't mean I'm back for good."

Karina nods, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "That's all I ask, Y/N. Just this one job. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

Over the next few days, as you prepare for the heist, you find yourself growing closer to Karina again. The shared danger and old camaraderie bring back memories of your time at the Arcane Institute. You catch her smiling at you more often, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about the heist.

One evening, as you're fine-tuning the final details of the plan, Karina pulls you aside. "Y/N, I've been thinking... After this heist, maybe we could—"

Before she can finish, Winter interrupts with an urgent update on the vault's security changes. You share a knowing look with Karina, silently agreeing to revisit the conversation later.

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The night of the heist arrives. The team assembles at the edge of the city, ready to embark on the mission. You feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you don your gear and prepare to face the dangers ahead.

Karina leads the way, her confidence and determination infectious. You follow her through the winding streets and alleys, moving silently and swiftly. The closer you get to the vault, the tighter the security becomes. You use your Disenchanter skills to disable the magical wards and traps, clearing the path for the team.

Finally, you reach the vault. The dragon is a formidable guardian, its scales glinting in the dim light. The enchanted knights stand ready, their weapons poised to strike. This is the moment of truth.

With a deep breath, you step forward, focusing your energy on the dragon and the knights. Your powers surge, nullifying their enchantments and rendering them vulnerable. The team moves in, engaging the dragon and the knights in a fierce battle.

As the dragon falls and the last knight is defeated, Karina makes her way to the vault door. She uses a combination of spells and lockpicking skills to unlock the door, revealing the Heart of Thalos—a glowing, pulsating artifact of immense power.

Karina carefully retrieves the Heart, her eyes shining with triumph. "We did it," she says, turning to you with a smile.

But before you can celebrate, the ground beneath you shakes. The vault begins to collapse, triggered by the removal of the Heart. The team scrambles to escape, racing against time as the structure crumbles around you.

You and the team make a mad dash for the exit, dodging falling debris and collapsing walls. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to the limit, using every ounce of your strength and agility to stay ahead of the destruction.

As you reach the exit, a massive piece of rubble falls towards you. Karina shouts your name, her voice filled with fear. In that split second, you realize just how much she means to you. You throw yourself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the falling debris.

Outside the vault, you collapse to the ground, panting and exhausted. The team is safe, but the Heart of Thalos is gone, buried beneath the rubble. Karina kneels beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... barely made it."

Karina helps you to your feet, her grip steady and reassuring. "Thank you, Y/N. We couldn't have done this without you."

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In the aftermath of the heist, you and the team return to the safehouse. The Heart of Thalos is secured, and the danger has passed. As the team celebrates their success, you find yourself alone with Karina.

She takes your hand, her touch gentle but firm. "Y/N, I need to tell you something."

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding. "What is it, Karina?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "I've missed you. These past five years, I've thought about you every day. Seeing you again, working with you... it's made me realize that I still care about you. A lot."

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that you've longed for. "Karina, I..."

She steps closer, her voice soft but earnest. "I know you said this was just one job, but... what if it wasn't? What if we did this together, for real? It's complicated, and I know we've both changed. But I want to see where this goes. If you're willing."

You turn to her, your heart pounding. "You mean, like old times?"

Karina nods, her eyes hopeful. "Yeah. Like old times. But better. We can make a difference, Y/N. We can use our skills to protect the city, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves."

You take a deep breath, considering her words. The life of a Disenchanter is dangerous and unpredictable, but it's also where you belong.

You look into her eyes, seeing the hope and vulnerability there. In that moment, you realize that despite everything, you still care deeply for her too. The heist has reminded you of the thrill of adventure, but more importantly, it's shown you that there's still a place for love in your life.

With a smile, you squeeze her hand. "I'm willing, Karina. Let's see where this goes."

She smiles back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you, Y/N."

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The day after the heist, you and Karina wake up in the safehouse, the morning light filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The team is still asleep, exhausted from the previous night's escapades. You feel a mixture of relief and anticipation as you think about the Heart of Thalos, now securely hidden in a magical vault beneath the safehouse.

Karina stirs beside you, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles, her face soft and relaxed. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning," you reply, your heart warming at the sight of her.

Before you can say more, Giselle enters the room, her booming voice shattering the peaceful moment. "We've got a problem."

You and Karina jump to your feet, following Giselle to the main room where the rest of the team is gathering. Winter and Ningning look tense, their eyes darting to the entrance.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Winter holds up a small, enchanted device. "This was found outside the safehouse. It's a tracker. Someone knows we're here."

Your blood runs cold. The bounty hunters must have planted it during the siege. Karina's face hardens with determination. "We need to move. Now."

You and the team quickly gather your belongings, preparing to leave the safehouse. As you step outside, you hear the distant sound of engines revving. A squadron of bounty hunters on motorcycles is speeding towards you, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Giselle roars, her enchanted strength crackling with energy.

You hesitate, but Karina pulls you along. "We need you, Y/N. Giselle can handle them."

Reluctantly, you follow Karina and the team through the winding alleys of New Arcadia. The bounty hunters are relentless, their engines echoing through the narrow streets. You and the team split up, hoping to confuse your pursuers.

As you run, you use your Disenchanter skills to nullify the magical trackers the bounty hunters are using. The air is thick with tension, every corner potentially hiding an ambush.

Finally, you reach an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The team regroups, panting and exhausted. Giselle arrives last, battered but victorious. "We need to lay low for a while," he says, his voice grim.

Inside the warehouse, you and Karina find a quiet corner. The adrenaline from the chase slowly fades, leaving you both feeling drained. Karina leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder.

"Y/N, I was so scared we'd get separated again," she whispers.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close. "I won't let that happen. Not again."

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. Not after we've found each other again."

You tilt her chin up, your lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. When you finally pull back, you smile at her. "We'll face whatever comes together."

The team gathers in the center of the warehouse, discussing their next move. The Heart of Thalos needs to be kept safe, and the bounty hunters won't stop until they have it.

"We need to take the fight to them," Karina suggests, her eyes blazing with determination. "If we can find their leader and take him down, we can buy ourselves some time."

You nod, agreeing with her plan. "And I can use my Disenchanter skills to disrupt their operations. We need to hit them where it hurts."

Winter, Giselle , and Ningning agree, their resolve matching yours. Together, you formulate a strategy to infiltrate the bounty hunters' headquarters, a fortified building in the heart of New Arcadia.

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Under the cover of night, you and the team make your way to the bounty hunters' headquarters. The building is heavily guarded, its perimeter bristling with magical wards and security measures. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on nullifying the enchantments.

Karina leads the way, her nimble fingers deftly disabling the locks and traps. Winter and Giselle follow, their movements silent and precise. Ningning uses her illusion magic to create distractions, drawing the guards' attention away from your group.

Inside, the headquarters is a maze of corridors and rooms. You move cautiously, avoiding patrols and security cameras. Finally, you reach the central chamber where the bounty hunters' leader, a ruthless mage named Vesper, is holding court.

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Vesper is a formidable opponent, his presence commanding and intimidating. He stands surrounded by his elite guards, his eyes narrowing as he spots your group.

"Well, well, well," he sneers. "The infamous Disenchanter and his ragtag team. You've caused me quite a bit of trouble."

You step forward, your voice steady. "It's over, Vesper. We're taking you down."

Vesper laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "You think you can stop me? With the council’s support, I’ll be more powerful than ever! You're all nothing but a thorn in my side."

The group was surprised with the sudden mention of the council. It seems that the figureheads of the city wasn’t as clean as they present themselves.

Karina eyes flash with anger. "We're more than that. We're here to end your reign of terror."

The battle erupts, a whirlwind of magic and steel. Vesper's guards are skilled, but your team fights with a fierce determination. You focus on nullifying Vesper's spells, creating openings for Giselle and Winter to strike.

Karina and Ningning work together, their combined magic creating powerful attacks that push Vesper back. The room crackles with energy as spells clash and swords meet.

Finally, with a powerful surge of your Disenchanter energy, you break through Vesper's defences. Giselle and Winter seize the opportunity, their combined strength overwhelming him. Vesper falls, his body crumpling to the ground.

With Vesper's defeat, the bounty hunters' organization crumbles. The team breathes a collective sigh of relief, the tension finally easing. You and Karina share a triumphant smile, the weight of the past few days lifting from your shoulders.

As you leave the headquarters, the dawn breaks over New Arcadia, the city bathed in a golden light. You feel a sense of hope and renewal, knowing that you've made a difference.

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The next few weeks are a whirlwind of activity. Karina introduces you to her network of allies and informants, each with their own unique skills and connections. Together, you form a new team, dedicated to protecting New Arcadia from the hidden threats that lurk in the shadows.

Your days are filled with intense training sessions, honing your Disenchanter abilities and learning new techniques from your teammates. You work closely with Karina, who teaches you advanced combat tactics and spellcasting methods. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, rekindling the friendship and trust you once shared.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, you and Karina find yourselves alone in the training room. Sweat drips from your brows as you catch your breath, the air heavy with the scent of exertion and magic.

Karina grins, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're getting better, Y/N. I can barely keep up with you now."

You smile back, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "Thanks, Karina. I couldn't have done it without you."

She steps closer, her expression serious. "There's something I need to tell you. The Heart of Thalos... it's more than just a powerful artifact. It holds the key to a greater mystery, one that could change everything we know about magic."

Your curiosity piqued, you listen intently as Karina explains. "According to legend, the Heart is connected to an ancient source of magic known as the Nexus. If we can find the Nexus, we might be able to harness its power and protect New Arcadia from any threat."

The weight of her words sinks in. This mission is far more significant than you initially realized. The stakes are higher, and the risks greater, but the potential reward is too important to ignore.

"I'm with you, Karina," you say firmly. "We'll find the Nexus and unlock its secrets."

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The quest for the Nexus takes you and your team to the far corners of New Arcadia. You follow leads and decipher cryptic clues, piecing together the puzzle one step at a time. The journey is fraught with danger, as powerful enemies seek to stop you at every turn.

One night, you find yourself deep within the city's ancient catacombs, searching for a hidden chamber said to contain vital information about the Nexus. The air is damp and musty, the only light coming from the faint glow of enchanted torches.

As you navigate the labyrinthine tunnels, you hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing behind you. You signal to the team to halt, your senses on high alert.

Winter, ever the keen observer, whispers, "We're being followed."

Karina nods, her eyes narrowing. "Prepare for an ambush. Stay sharp, everyone."

Moments later, a group of shadowy figures emerges from the darkness, their eyes glinting with malevolent intent. You recognize them as members of a notorious organisation, known for their ruthless pursuit of magical power.

The leader of the organisation, a tall figure shrouded in dark robes, steps forward. "You've meddled in matters beyond your understanding, Disenchanter. The Nexus is ours."

Without warning, the enemies attack. Spells crackle through the air, and weapons clash in a flurry of violence. You and your team fight with everything you've got, the confined space of the catacombs amplifying the intensity of the battle.

Karina unleashes a torrent of fireballs, her movements fluid and precise. Giselle wades into the fray, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower multiple foes at once. Winter darts between enemies, her daggers flashing in the dim light. Ninging conjures illusions to confuse and disorient the cultists, creating openings for the team to strike.

You focus on nullifying the cultists' spells, disrupting their magical attacks and turning the tide in your favor. The battle is fierce, but your training and teamwork prevail. One by one, the cultists fall, until only their leader remains.

Desperation flickers in the cult leader's eyes as he realizes he's outmatched. With a snarl, he raises his staff, channelling a powerful spell aimed directly at you. You react instinctively, raising your hand and nullifying the spell just before it reaches you.

The cult leader's eyes widen in shock, and he stumbles backward. "No... this can't be..."

Karina steps forward before she knocks the leader out cold. The group managed to hold captive a disarmed member of the organization. Karina points her sword at the man, her voice cold and commanding. "Tell us everything, What is your purpose and what you know about the Nexus, or you'll wish you hadn't crossed us."

The member, now disarmed and defeated, reluctantly reveals what he knows. “We’re a shadow organization for The Council, tasked to find the Nexus. The Nexus is a source of unimaginable power, hidden deep beneath the city. Only the Heart of Thalos can unlock its true potential. The Council plans to use the nexus as leverage to gain more power and to expand their control over the nation."

You exchange a glance with Karina, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The cult leader's information confirms your suspicions and provides a crucial lead.

With the cultists neutralized, you and your team press on, following the clues deeper into the catacombs. After hours of searching, you finally discover the hidden chamber. The walls are covered in ancient runes and symbols, glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.

In the center of the chamber stands an ornate pedestal, upon which rests a stone tablet. The tablet is inscribed with a detailed map, marking the location of the Nexus.

Karina carefully examines the tablet, her eyes scanning the intricate markings. "This is it, Y/N. The Nexus is real, and we've found the key to its location."

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The journey is far from over, but you've made significant progress. The map points to a secluded area in the heart of the city, a place known as the Veiled Sanctum.

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The Veiled Sanctum is a place of legend, shrouded in mystery and protected by powerful wards. As you approach the sanctum, you feel the air hum with latent magic. The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall, accessible only by solving a series of complex puzzles.

Working together, you and your team navigate the challenges, using your combined knowledge and skills to unlock the sanctum's secrets. Each puzzle is more intricate than the last, but you press on, determined to reach the Nexus.

Finally, you stand before the entrance to the sanctum, a massive stone door adorned with ancient glyphs. Karina places the Heart of Thalos into a recessed slot in the door, and with a deep rumble, the door begins to open.

Inside, the sanctum is a breathtaking sight. The walls are lined with glowing crystals, casting a soft, ethereal light. In the center of the room stands a grand altar, upon which rests the Nexus—a swirling vortex of raw, untamed magic.

As you approach the altar, you feel a surge of power, unlike anything you've ever experienced. The Nexus pulses with energy, its potential both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Karina steps forward, her voice reverent. "This is it, Y/N. The source of all magic in New Arcadia. With the Nexus, we can protect the city from any threat."

Before you can respond, a powerful force slams into you, knocking you to the ground. You look up to see the cult leader, now imbued with dark magic, standing at the entrance to the sanctum.

"You fools," he snarls. "You think you can control the Nexus? It belongs to us!"

The final battle begins with a thunderous clash of magic and steel. The leader, empowered by the dark magic, is a formidable opponent. His attacks are relentless, and his spells crackle with malevolent energy.

You and your team fight with everything you have, determined to protect the Nexus and stop the cult leader. Karina unleashes her most powerful spells, while Giselle, Winter, and Ninging work together to keep the cult leader off balance.

The sanctum shakes with the intensity of the battle, crystals shattering and debris falling from the ceiling. You focus on nullifying the cult leader's dark magic, countering his spells and weakening his defences.

As the battle reaches its climax, the cult leader summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the cult leader's attack. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

When the light fades, you find yourself standing victorious. The cult leader lies defeated, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The Nexus pulses with a calming, soothing energy, its power now under your control.

Karina steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "We did it, Y/N. The Nexus is safe, and New Arcadia is protected for now."

You look at her, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and pride. "We couldn't have done it without you, Karina. We're a team."

Karina then stared at the horizon. “However, we still have more battles coming our way.”

In the heart of the Elder Council’s command chamber, tension hung thick in the air, charged with failure. The Elder of the Council, a tall figure draped in dark robes, slammed his gnarled fist against the ornate wooden table, sending inkpots and scrolls flying. His face was contorted with rage, the flickering candlelight revealing the deep lines of frustration etched into his skin.

"You incompetent fools!" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Council members flinched, shifting uneasily in their seats as they awaited his next outburst. "The Nexus was ours for the taking, and yet you let it slip through your fingers! How could you let this happen?"

One advisor, shaking like a leaf, took a cautious step forward. "Elder, the shadow organization reported that their plans were compromised during the heist. They encountered unexpected resistance—"

The Elder cut him off, his patience evaporating. "Resistance? Is that all you have to offer? What good are your shadows if they cannot perform a simple task? We had everything arranged!"

The room fell silent, tension mounting. The Elder’s fury radiated like heat from a forge, and the air seemed to crackle with his barely-contained wrath. He paced like a caged beast, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

Finally, he turned sharply, pinning the advisor with a steely glare. "And who was responsible for this fiasco?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Reports indicate it was Y/N L/N," the advisor said, voice trembling. "They orchestrated the heist of the Heart of Thalos and led the resistance that thwarted our plans."

At the mention of your name, the Elder's fury ignited anew. "Y/N L/N! The banished pariah returns to haunt me?" He slammed his fist down again, this time hard enough to crack the table's surface. "After all these years, they dare to defy the Council? They will pay dearly for this!"

His breath quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. Memories of your betrayal flooded back, intertwining with the present chaos. You had once been one of his brightest students, but now you stood as a symbol of everything he despised—defiance, rebellion, and the power of unity.

"You think you can simply waltz back into my domain, Y/N L/N? You will regret ever crossing me!" The Elder's eyes gleamed with a mix of anger and determination, his mind already plotting revenge. "Prepare the enforcers. Mobilize every resource we have. Y/N L/N and their little band of rebels will be crushed beneath my heel."

As he raged, the advisors exchanged anxious glances, knowing full well the consequences of angering the Elder. "We will not let them gain any more power," one advisor stammered, trying to placate him. "We will gather forces and track them down."

"See that you do!" The Elder snapped, his voice a thunderous declaration. "For every moment they breathe free air, they mock our authority. This ends now." His voice simmered with menace, sealing the fate of New Arcadia in his vengeful hands.

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The next morning, as you and Karina are planning your next steps, a messenger arrives at the safehouse. He hands you a sealed letter bearing the mark of the Elder Council. You break the seal and read the letter, your heart sinking with each word.

The Council has learned of your involvement in the heist and demands your immediate surrender. They threaten to unleash their full force against you and anyone who harbors you if you do not comply. The bounty on your head has doubled, and they are now actively mobilizing their forces to hunt you down.

Karina reads the letter over your shoulder, her expression hardening. "We can't let them do this, Y/N. We need to find a way to fight back."

You nod, feeling a mix of fear and determination. "But how? The Council is too powerful. We don't stand a chance against them."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with resolve. "We need allies. There are others in New Arcadia who oppose the Council's tyranny. If we can unite them, we might have a chance."

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Over the next few days, you and Karina reach out to old friends and contacts, seeking allies in your fight against the Council. You find support among the city's disenfranchised, those who have suffered under the Council's oppressive rule.

One by one, you gather a diverse group of rebels, each with their own reasons for joining the cause. Few notable members also decided to join the cause. There's Irene, a former Council enforcer turned rogue; Key, a tech-savvy hacker with a grudge against the establishment; Wendy, a wind mage with a deep connection to the city's underground networks; Winter, a nimble thief who can slip through the tightest of spaces; Giselle, a warrior with enchanted strength; and Ningning, a spellcaster with a talent for illusion magic.

One night, you hold a clandestine meeting in a hidden underground chamber. The air is filled with tension and excitement as the gathered rebels discuss their grievances and share their hopes for a better future.

Irene speaks up, her voice steady and resolute. "The Council has ruled with an iron fist for too long. They've crushed anyone who dared to oppose them. It's time we stand together and fight back."

Key nods in agreement, his eyes flashing with determination. "We have the skills and the numbers. We can disrupt their communications, hack their systems, and turn their own technology against them."

Wendy adds, her voice filled with a quiet strength, "And I'll ensure we move swiftly and unseen through the city. The Council won't know what hit them."

Giselle, her muscles rippling with enchanted strength, clenches her fist. "Let them come. I'll take them all on."

Winter, slipping a dagger into her belt, grins. "And I'll make sure we get in and out without a trace."

Ningning conjures an illusion of the Council's command center, the room flickering with magical light. "I'll create distractions and keep them guessing. They won't know what's real and what's not."

Suddenly, the ground trembles as a group of Council enforcers burst into the chamber, having tracked your location. A fierce battle erupts, your newly formed resistance group immediately put to the test.

Irene moves with deadly precision, her training as a former enforcer evident in her swift, lethal strikes. She disarms an enemy and uses their weapon against them in a fluid motion. "We can’t let them break us now!" she shouts over the chaos.

Key and Wendy work in tandem, the hacker disrupting the enforcers’ communications while the wind mage creates a barrier of swirling air to deflect incoming attacks. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" Key yells, fingers flying over his portable console.

Giselle charges forward, her enchanted strength allowing her to take on multiple enforcers at once. She lifts a heavy piece of debris and hurls it at the enemies, scattering them like bowling pins. "Is that all you've got?" she taunts, her voice ringing with confidence.

Winter darts through the fray, using her nimbleness to slip past the enforcers' defences. She appears behind them, striking with precision before vanishing into the shadows again. "Over here!" she calls, drawing their attention and leading them into traps.

Ningning weaves illusions that confuse and misdirect the enforcers, causing them to strike at phantoms and shadows. "This way, no, that way!" she giggles, enjoying the chaos she creates.

Karina, her eyes blazing with magical energy, unleashes a torrent of fire to keep the enforcers at bay. You join her, using your Disenchanter skills to neutralize their magical wards and weapons. Together, you form an impenetrable defence.

The battle is intense, the small chamber echoing with the sounds of clashing steel and explosive magic. Despite the surprise attack, your group fights with a fierce determination, each member holding their ground. One by one, the enforcers fall, and the chamber falls silent once more.

As the dust settles, you look around at your allies, their expressions a mix of relief and determination. "This was just a taste of what’s to come," you say, your voice steady. "We need to be ready for anything."

————————————————————

The night of the assault arrives. The resistance moves through the city in small, coordinated groups, avoiding detection as they make their way to the Council's command center. The air is thick with tension and anticipation.

You and Karina lead the main strike team, your hearts pounding as you approach the heavily fortified building. Using your Disenchanter skills, you disable the magical wards protecting the entrance, allowing the team to breach the outer defences.

Inside, a fierce battle erupts. The Council's guards and enforcers are well-trained and heavily armed, but the members of the resistance fight with a fierce determination born of desperation and hope. Spells and bullets fly, the clash of steel and the roar of magic filling the air.

Irene charges ahead, her combat skills unmatched as she takes down guard after guard. "We need to push forward!" she yells, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Key, tapping into the building’s security system, manages to turn some of the automated defences against the Council’s own forces. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" he shouts, as the sound of automated gunfire joins the fray.

Wendy uses her control over the wind to disorient the guards, creating gusts that knock them off balance and leave them vulnerable. "Focus on the weak points!" she calls out, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges through the enemy lines, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower the guards with ease. She lifts a massive steel door, using it as a shield to block incoming fire. "Keep moving! I'll cover you!" she shouts.

Winter slips through the chaos, using her agility to navigate the tight spaces and flank the guards. She appears behind them, taking them out silently and efficiently. "We're almost there!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the tumult.

Ningning creates illusions that bewilder and distract the guards, making them strike at empty air or turn on each other. "Just a little more confusion," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

Karina, her magic blazing brighter than ever, fights by your side. Together, you make your way through the building, each step bringing you closer to the control room. You nullify the guards’ magical attacks while Karina counters with her own, creating a devastating combination.

The battle rages on, the corridors of the command center echoing with the sounds of conflict. Despite the overwhelming odds, your group fights with relentless determination, inching closer to your goal with every passing moment.

————————————————————

The final battle reaches its peak in the control room. The remaining Council leaders unleash their most powerful spells and weapons, determined to crush the rebellion once and for all.

You and Karina fight side by side, your movements perfectly synchronized. As you nullify the Council's spells, Karina counters with blasts of fire and lightning, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Irene engages one of the leaders in a deadly dance of blades, her movements swift and precise. "You're going down!" she yells, striking with lethal accuracy.

Key, hacking into the command center's systems, disrupts their communications and disables their automated defenses. "I've got their security down! Focus on the leaders!" he calls out, sweat pouring down his face.

Wendy uses her wind magic to create a barrier, shielding the resistance from the leaders' attacks. "Hold the line!" she shouts, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges at one of the leaders, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower their defences. She grabs them and hurls them across the room, her voice a roar of defiance. "You're finished!"

Winter uses her agility to navigate the chaos, slipping through the tightest spaces to strike at the leaders from unexpected angles. "Keep them off balance!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the storm.

Ningning creates illusions that confuse and disorient the leaders, making them strike at phantoms and shadows. "They won't know what's real and what's not," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

The head of the Council, now cornered and desperate, summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the dark spell. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

Karina, sensing the moment of vulnerability, unleashes a powerful surge of magic that disrupts the vortex, causing it to collapse in on itself. "Now, Y/N! Finish it!" she yells, her voice filled with urgency.

With a surge of determination, you focus all your energy on the head of the Council, nullifying his dark magic and leaving him defenceless. Irene, Key, Wendy, Giselle, Winter, and Ningning join the final push, their combined efforts overwhelming the remaining Council members.

The head of the Council falls, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The command centre falls silent, the resistance standing victorious amid the wreckage. You and Karina share a triumphant look, knowing that the hardest part is over but that the fight for New Arcadia's future has only just begun.

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the battle, the resistance works to stabilise the city and establish a new order. You and Karina play key roles in the rebuilding efforts, using your skills and knowledge to help create a fairer, more just society.

The people of New Arcadia, inspired by your courage and determination, begin to rally around the new leadership. The city's magical misfits and outcasts find new hope and purpose, their talents and abilities finally recognized and valued.

One day, as you and Karina oversee the reconstruction of a devastated neighborhood, a young girl approaches you. Her eyes are wide with adIrenetion, and she clutches a small, hand-drawn picture of you and Karina fighting the Council.

"Thank you for saving us," she says, her voice filled with sincerity. "You're heroes."

You kneel down to her level, smiling. "We did it together. And now, it's up to all of us to make sure New Arcadia remains a place where everyone is free."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her expression filled with pride. "We've come a long way, Y/N. And we still have a lot of work to do. But I know we can build a better future."

————————————————————

As the city begins to heal, you and Karina take a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come. The bond between you has grown stronger, forged in the fires of battle and tempered by shared struggles and triumphs. The neon lights of New Arcadia shimmer in the distance, painting the night sky with vibrant hues.

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, you can hear the distant hum of life below, the mix of magic and technology creating an enchanting symphony. You turn to Karina, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights, and feel a rush of warmth.

With a soft smile, Karina gazes into your eyes, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and strength. “Y/N,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, I feel like I’ve found a part of myself again. And that’s because of you.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you take a step closer, closing the distance between you. “I feel the same way, Karina. You’ve brought light back into my life when I thought it was lost forever.” The sincerity in your voice resonates in the quiet night.

She reaches up, cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing your cheek. “I know we’ve faced so much uncertainty, but I want you to know that I love you, Y/N. I truly do.” Her confession hangs in the air, filled with the weight of truth.

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest. “I love you too, Karina. With all my heart.” The words come out effortlessly, a promise wrapped in passion and commitment.

With a gentle smile, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s next for us?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought of the future.

Karina’s eyes glimmer with excitement, and she takes a step closer, her breath mingling with the cool night air. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Always.” Her voice is filled with determination, but there’s also a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

You lean in, and the world around you fades away. At that moment, nothing else matters but the two of you. As your lips meet, it’s as if the city itself holds its breath. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it deepens, fueled by the unspoken promise of adventure and the intensity of your shared experiences.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, the city lights reflecting in her eyes like a thousand stars. “I never thought I’d find someone like you in all this chaos,” you whisper, your forehead resting against hers.

Karina chuckles softly, her breath warm against your skin. “And I never thought I’d get a second chance to be with you.” Her fingers intertwined with yours, and you can feel the strength and comfort in her grip.

“I know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as we’re together, I’m ready to face them,” you say, your heart steady with resolve.

Karina nods, a playful smile lighting up her face. “Let’s make a pact. No matter what happens, we never lose sight of each other. Promise?”

“Promise,” you reply, sealing it with another kiss, this one filled with hope and longing. You pull back slightly, studying her face, and in that moment, you realize how lucky you are to have found love amidst the chaos.

As the night deepens, you both take a moment to savor the city’s magic—the flickering lights, the distant sounds of laughter, and the vibrant energy that surrounds you. Hand in hand, you step into the night, the world unfolding before you like a canvas waiting to be painted with your adventures.

With Karina by your side, you’re ready to embrace whatever the future holds—be it danger, excitement, or the sweet moments of peace in between. Together, you’ll write a new story, one filled with passion, courage, and endless possibilities. And as you walk towards the horizon, you know this is just the beginning of your incredible journey.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop imagines #kpop girls #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #aespa karina #karina #yoo jimin #karina x male reader #karina x reader #aespa #yu jimin

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barcaatthemoon · 4 months

Text

balancing act || barcelona x teen!reader ||

you struggle to find balance between school and playing for barcelona, and your teammates try to help you.

you were on the verge of tearing your hair out as you stared at the notebook in front of you. it was one of the last games of the season, and you were at the front of the bus studying for your finals. your parents had been on your ass since your last test had come back with a 76. that was better than most of your class, but your parents didn't care.

they wanted you to have something to fall back on, insistent that football wouldn't be there forever. you didn't want to believe them, you couldn't. they wanted you to go away to university and put all of the football stuff behind you within the next few years. it was one thing to do it while you were young, but they didn't see it as a full fledged career.

you hated hearing them try to convince you to look into other options. your team was fully supportive of what you wanted to do. they saw the way that you worked hard, not just relying on your talent. there was no question that you'd be a staple of barcelona football for years to come, possibly even decades. there were already news outlets calling you the future alexia putellas.

"chica, it is so boring in the back of the bus without you," mapi whined. she dropped into the seat next to you suddenly. you usually hated it whenever mapi interrupted your work, but now, she was a welcome distraction. you weren't going to understand your math any more when all of the numbers blended together. "what the hell is that?"

"calculus," you answered plainly. mapi pulled a face as she pushed it away from you, nearly knocking it onto the floor. she put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards her. mapi wouldn't be playing today, but she was so excited to get to come along after having had to stay behind for the past couple of games. "what are you doing up here? i thought alexia banished you away from me."

"oh, keira and tana thought that you looked like you needed a break. nothing helps clear the mind better than some quality mapi time!" mapi exclaimed. she rattled off about a million games that the two of you could play for her allotted half hour with you, but all you wanted to do was take a little nap. fortunately for you, mapi had great shoulders to rest against.

it barely took any time for you to fall asleep with mapi. you had more studying to do, but mapi shooed alexia away when she came up to remind you. alexia had a tendency to push, and if it wasn't for mapi, you definitely would have broken down much sooner than you actually did. the pressure from everything had been building up for a while, and everybody was waiting for you to blow up.

the only person who didn't seem to notice was alexia. she kept pushing and pushing, despite the warning from everybody else about pressure. alexia thrived under pressure, and you were so much like her that she assumed you did too. she failed to notice the way that your shoulders had begun to sag as you tried to go through the everyday motions of living.

…

"hola nena," sandra greeted as she sat down next to you. it was one of her last practices. you were definitely one of the saddest to see her go. she had been a staple in your life long before you had joined barcelona. the woman had lived on your street for as long as you could remember, having quickly become a family friend.

"hola sandy." your finals hadn't gone the way that you were hoping they would, so you had to do a couple of the optional end of the year assignments to make it up. you had been working on the last one whenever she walked over.

"you know that is important to rest your brain as well as your body," sandra said. she placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to get you to look at her. you glanced up from your paper, and sandra felt her heart break a little at how exhausted you looked. "what are you working on?"

"it is my physics. and no, you're not allowed to help. after the disaster that was my study session with alexia and patri, none of the team is allowed to help," you told her. sandra laughed a little. she had heard all about that, alexia complaining that the school work these days was far too difficult for anybody to reasonably understand.

"don't worry, i wouldn't even know where to start if i did want to help you," sandra joked. "i just wanted to check on you. you've been working very hard, and i know that it can get tiring."

"i'm fine. it's what i have to do. i keep my grades up, i get to play. that's the deal." sandra frowned at the almost robotic way you repeated the words that your parents, alexia, and the coaches had been drilling into you. "i can't rely on football forever. one day, i'll have to do someting else, right?"

"what would you want to do if you couldn't play football?" sandra asked you. that wasn't a question that anybody had ever asked you. your parents were insistent that you'd have to have a good career after football to take care of your family, and alexia talked to you like football was always going to be all there was. nobody had ever stopped to ask what you wanted to do, so you never thought about it.

"well, i don't really know," you admitted.

"that's perfectly fine, you're young. just don't put too much thought into what everybody else wants for you," sandra reminded you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she got up to leave you alone. you let her words echo around in your head. it was a good thing to remember, even if it would be hard to undo the years of people pleasing you had grown accustomed to.

…

barcelona was full of motherly figures. sometimes, you found it to be a bit overbearing, but most of them knew when to back off. they had all sort of been alternating trying to check on you. usually, you were mature enough to realize that there had to be a reason for them to be so overbearing, but with the added stress of everything, you hadn't.

marta was one of your favorites. the woman had immediately taken you under her wing whenever you came up from the academy. she was one of the players that you looked up to the most. she had played at barcelona since you could remember, truly a club legend. it was surreal sometimes knowing that she was cheering you on.

whenever you had sprinted off after blowing up at marta's girlfriend, caroline, you had been terrified. marta had every reason to be mad at you. hell, you were pretty mad at yourself for getting so mean with someone who truly just wanted to make sure that you were okay. you swore that you saw caroline's eyes begin to tear up as you raced away from everybody and everything as fast as you could.

"(y/n), what is going on with you?" marta was the last person that you expected to come after you. much to your surprise, marta wasn't outwardly angry with you. if anything, you just saw concern in her eyes as she stared down at you.

"i don't really know," you mumbled. it was true, you had no idea why you were feeling the way that you were. it was normal for teenagers to get a bit angsty and angry, but this felt out of control. no matter what you did or who you spent time with, your mood never seemed to improve. "nothing helps, it's like i can't relax."

"can i tell you what i think?" marta asked cautiously. you trusted her, and knew that she wouldn't say anything if you didn't want her to. there wasn't any harm in hearing her out, so you nodded your head for her to continue. "i think that you're exhausted. it's been pretty obvious to most of us for a while. we've all tried to tell you to slow down, but we can't make that decision for you. have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"

"my mom says that i should look into summer classes, but i have to test into them. she's worried that i won't make it in. my finals didn't look good, and she says that she wants what's best for me, but i don't know if i believe that anymore," you said. it felt nice to get it off of your chest.

"would it be okay if some of us talked to her? maybe alexia or irene can lead the charge if you think that it would help. none of us want to see you like this anymore. we miss our little chica, the little ball of happiness and energy." marta caressed your cheek, and you leaned into her hand. you were absolutely exhausted, and it was like a weight was lifted off of your chest for having finally spoken about your feelings.

"thank you, marta." her heart broke a little at how defeated you sounded. she hated that they had let things get this bad. "i should go apologize to caro, she looked upset."

"do not worry about that right now. most of the girls are in the gym. i think that mapi left a blanket in the locker room for you. please just take a nap and then we can all have a big talk later, vale?" marta asked hopefully. she breathed out a sigh of relief when you got up and walked to the locker room. around an hour and a half later, she found you fast asleep on the bench in front of caroline's locker. there was a note with your apology written out on it, as well as one to each of the girls that you had already snapped at that week.

"she's a good kid," alexia said as she glanced down at your body. it was blocking her seat in front of her own locker, but alexia was happy to move around you for the time being. she believed that you needed your rest more than she needed to sit.

"she really is," sandra agreed. "i think that i'm going to take her home for a little while. she can sleep at my house while we talk to her parents."

"will they listen?" irene asked. she had heard a lot of things about your parents, whether from sandra or you in passing that made her question whether or not they really had your best interests at heart.

"if they don't, ingrid and i will take her in," mapi promised. for a moment, there were a couple of skeptical looks thrown around, but alexia shut each of them down quickly. alexia could see the seriousness in mapi's eyes well enough to know that the woman meant it. you were like her little sister, and mapi just wanted to make sure that you were properly taken care of. she already felt like she had failed you for letting you get so stressed.

…

you let out a heavy sigh as you flopped back against your bed. it felt weird to think about. this was your bed in your room in your home. your parents' place had been your home once, but it didn't feel nearly as warm and safe as mapi and ingrid's apartment did. this was a place where your best interests were truly at heart, with your input included.

it was definitely sad leaving your parents behind, but they had been all too happy to sign you away. they didn't want to keep you around if you weren't going to listen to them. somehow, they had tried to turn this all around on you for failing them, but your teammates were quick to shut that down. alexia and the others hadn't even walked out before mapi and ingrid were pulling up to take you away.

"that was the last box chica. i was going to suggest that we take a break because ingrid is on her way back with pizza. do you want some time alone or would you like to watch some tv with me and alexia?" mapi asked you. a part of you wanted to sit and sulk about your parents letting you go, but the part of you that wanted to enjoy your new family won out. you shot off of your bed and followed mapi into the living room.

alexia was curled up with a blanket on the bigger couch in the living room. you and mapi seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over to either side of alexia. the two of you played a little game of tug of war that alexia helped you win. you cuddled up against alexia's side, nearly falling asleep before ingrid got back with pizza. it was definitely different than the environment that you were used to, but it was a heartily welcomed changed.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #teen reader #platonic fic #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona x reader #barcelona imagine

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traveler-at-heart · 7 months

Text

Cat's out of the (super) bag

Summary: Natasha doesn't like going on missions with you. Learning the truth might make her change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Big thanks to @soggy-wet-cat for hearing this idea before I wrote it :)

Fury was going soft.

That was the only way to explain your presence on most of Natasha’s missions.

Rogers, she gets. He’s a super soldier and as capable as Natasha is, it doesn’t hurt to have an enhanced individual around.

But you.

Always slow, always too relaxed for Natasha’s liking. Insisting you could do more, but last week you weren’t even able to pick a lock.

Not to mention how much you avoid hand to hand combat. Natasha suspects it’s because your skill level is very low.

“She’d do better out of the field” Natasha complains for the tenth time. Fury smirks. “This isn’t funny. I’m risking my neck to protect her and she’s not even worried about getting better. I’m not doing missions with her anymore”

“Now, hold on” Fury protests. “That’s not for you to decide. And I thought you trusted me”

“It’s her I can’t trust”

“Too damn bad. You have a mission. No Rogers this time. And I better hear it went well, Romanoff”

Natasha rolls her eyes and leaves his office.

It will only go well if she convinces you to sit and wait at the jet.

—

“What did you do to piss off Romanoff?”

“Morning to you too, Nick” you smile, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t like me”

“I know that. Have you done anything to upset her?”

“I barely speak to her and when I do she doesn’t answer” you shrug your shoulders, going back to every interaction you’ve had with the redhead. Her intense glare comes back to haunt you. “Do you think she knows?”

“You tell me. Did you screw up?”

“I keep a low profile. Like you asked me to” you nod, knowing how important this is for him.

“Better stay that way. You’re both leaving for a mission tomorrow” the man hands you a folder and you skim it. “Keep your head down and don’t make her angrier”

“Is that even possible?”

“You don’t wanna know”

—

It’s a mess from the start. You try to stay away from Natasha, but every time your attempts go in the worst way possible. Like when she’s walking down the jet, and you move aside so she has space. Except you end up pushing a few buttons on the console and Natasha has to come back and straighten the ship.

“Stay still” she mutters, glaring. You nod and sit on your hands, more concerned with the woman’s temper than about the mission.

“Wait here” is all she says after landing the jet.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a very simple mission” Natasha says, without looking at you, focused on adjusting her widow bites. “So, if you really want to help, stay out of my way”

“That’s not the plan. I’m supposed to watch the south entrance”

“They’ll never even noticed I inflitrated the building”

“You’re not my boss. Fury is. And if he wants me to stand outside and watch the south entrance, then that is exacly what I’ll do, Natasha”

The redhead finally turns back to look at you, surprised. This is the first time she’s seen you upset. You’re walking past her, not bothering to look her way… have you always been this tall? It always seems like you’re trying to look small.

“Hey” Natasha tries to make you turn, grabbing your arm. She’s surprised by how strong you are. “You better not screw up. Or I’ll make sure you’re on desk duty for the rest of your career, Y/L/N”

“Oh, now that’s funny. I’ve been here far longer than you” you lean forward, whispering. Natasha tries to understand what you mean, her eyes scanning your features for a sign. Aware of how close you are to her, you take a step back and jump out the door, ignoring the ladder.

Ridiculous, to think that you (you!) are an incompetent agent.

Maybe Fury was wrong for asking you to do this.

You’re kicking the ground, huffing every few minutes, still fuming at Natasha’s words. All this time, you thought she didn’t like you and though it sucked, you could live with that. But saying you were bad at your job when it was the exact opposite makes you see red.

“Y/N?” Natasha says over the comms.

“Here” you answer.

“A little help”

Those three words make your stomach drop. Natasha asking for your help?

This must be life or death kind of bad.

“Tell me where you are” you ask, breaking into the building.

“Intelligence room. Surrounded by at least 20 guards”

“Use the vents to go out and grab one of their vehicles. I’ll distract them”

“You’re gonna take down 20 people all on your own?”

“Just do as I say, Romanoff”

It feels good to finally use all your strenght. You practically rip open a door that sets off an alarm, and then you throw a couple of grenades around.

Now, all eyes are on you.

Sure enough, it takes them a few minutes to come find you, but you’re ready to shoot at the first guards, and when the second wave has gone through their ammo, you prepare for hand to hand combat.

“I’m out but there are two individuals after me. Towards the east, away from the jet”

“Got it. Gentleman” you turn to the man. “Change of plans. Let me go or die. Whichever is fine by me”

They laugh, until you send one of them flying across the room, his neck snapping.

“Who’s next, ladies?”

—

How could this mission have gone so wrong? Now Natasha is navigating the snowy road on a motorcycle, being chased by two of the guards and dodging their bullets.

The cold air is stabbing her hands and face but she has to keep going. She is too far away to communicate with you, but hoped you had the good sense of going back to the jet.

She’d find a way to survive.

Or maybe not, as she notices a third motorcycle joining the chase.

Through the rearview mirror, she sees the new person approaching one of the guards. A fight ensues and an exchange of shots. Next thing Natasha saw was the motorcycles colliding.

“Y/N?” she tries the comms, hoping you aren’t stupid enough to be knocking down people. Whoever those two were, the force of the hit was enough to kill them.

And yet, one of them begins to run after Natasha and the man still chasing her. The figure is fast approaching, which is ridiculous, considering Natasha was going 150 miles per hour.

The brute is clearly scared, as his movements become more erratic, trying to get rid of Natasha and the mysterious figure at the same time. He shoots behind him and then at Natasha, getting to one of the tires in her bike.

She tries to keep the handle steady, but can’t turn on the curve ahead of her. Natasha is sent flying directly to a river, the cold water making her momentarily paralized. The currents confused her, and she couldn’t tell up from down. She swam and swam, until her arms were too tired.

She began to drift, and the last thing she saw was a shadow hovering above her.

—

“Natasha? Nat?” you plead, doing CPR as gently as you can. You don’t want to add cracked ribs to her list of injuries.

Finally, after what felt like hours but were only seconds, Natasha lunges forward, coughing and throwing up water. You hold her head, helping her until she can breathe again.

“I’m freezing” Natasha complains, looking around. “Did we lose them? How did you…” she then turns to you and widens her eyes. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, he shot me. It’ll stop in a second. And yes, we lost them. Though I’m sure HYDRA is sending more people to track us down. Come on” you stand up, offering your hand. Natasha takes it and is once again surpised by how strong you are.

Your body is also warmer than hers, even if you dived to rescue her. On pure instinct, Natasha comes closer, practically melting against your body heat.

“You’re hiding something” she states and you chuckle.

“Now’s not the time. Come on, I’ll carry you. There must be a safe house close to the river”

Natasha climbs to your back, and as if she weights nothing, you walk down the river, trusting she’ll keep an eye for any place to hide.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of walking, the redhead gets your attention and points at the right. There’s a small cottage hiding between some trees.

“Here” you say as you kick open the door, not bothering to find a key. You set Natasha down and go around the place, looking for blankets and anything that will make her warm.

“Did it stop bleeding?” she asks, looking at your abdomen. You nod, placing a blanket over her shoulder and checking for other injuries. “Are you a super soldier?”

You smile, thinking that Fury will be up in arms. But technically, you didn’t tell Natasha. She figured it out.

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who else knows?” Natasha says, pulling the blanket closer, as if it will help her cover from you as well. It’s clear she doesn’t trust you right now.

“Fury asked me to keep a low profile. He’s the only one that knows. I think he’s concerned about the integrity of SHIELD. You know him, keeping an ace up his sleeve”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Thirty years, give or take. My existence is top secret, and I spent some time away from the job. My father died, and he was the last person that I knew before everything, so… it was hard, I guess”

“I’m sorry”

“Me too. I didn’t like lying to you or pretending to be something I’m not”

Natasha kicks herself for not noticing sooner. It’s so glaringly obvious now that she has to roll her eyes at herself.

Your build, the fact that you never seem to be tired or catching your breath. Hell, the fact you never train with anyone else.

Natasha made an assumption and ran with it, instead of trying to see past it.

“Hey, you ok?” you ask, craddling her head in your hands. “Did you hit your head? Feel dizzy?”

“I’m just cold”

“We can’t start a fire” you regret, looking out. “Here” you pull her closer, your arms going around her shoulders. She tries to protest, but whatever she was about to say dies in her throat as soon as she feels how warm you are.

“This suit is all wet” she says, pulling away and taking it off. “Don’t look or I’ll kill you”

“Uh… what is going on?” your eyes dart to the ceiling, blushing. Then, you feel Natasha’s cold skin against you. “Jesus, Nat. You’re freezing”

You bury the both of you in more blankets, and feel her melting against your side. On instinct, your arms go around her waist and bring her closer, to which she responds by burying her face on the crook of your neck.

“So I can’t look but I can touch, huh?”

“Glad we understand each other”

—

“So…”

“So” Natasha says, landing the jet back home.

“Can we be friends? Friendly, at least?”

“No” she stands up, walking towards you. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you’ve been looking at me for the entire ride home”

“Can you blame me?” your eyes drift to her cleavage, remembering how she was practically naked and clinging to you as if her life depended on it.

“Wine and dine me, Y/L/N. And we’ll take it from there”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Am I interrupting?” Fury shouts from the hangar.

“Yes” you say, but Natasha leaves, glaring at Fury on her way out.

“I’ve known you for thirty years and you still can’t keep it together around a pretty lady. And now I’m in trouble too” Fury says, clearly displeased.

“Hey, at least you don’t have that problem with Rogers, huh?”

“For now, Y/L/N. There’s always some trouble waiting around the courner”

You laugh and clap his back, leaving the jet. His plan may have failed, but you’re certainly not complaining.

Not when you have a hot date waiting for you.

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #Natasha Romanoff x You

817 notes · View notes

writingwithciara · 3 months

Text

broken legos -matt sturniolo-

summary: matt and y/n are both lego lovers so every month, they buy a set to work on together. it’s become such a normal part of matt’s routine that he doesn’t know what to do when y/n’s attention and time is turned elsewhere

word count: 5.1k

pairings: matt sturniolo x best friend reader, chris sturniolo x platonic reader

notes: i love how much matt likes legos and since he's just the cutest, i had to write this for him.

masterlist

y/n and matt weren’t really friends until the triplets 11th birthday. she attended their party only because they had invited everyone in their classes and because her mom was good friends with mary lou.

her mom had picked out an individual present for each of them. they each got a different lego set so when the boys unwrapped their gifts, y/n’s eyes widened and she looked at her mom.

“how come i can never get a lego set, mom?” she pouted.

“because, sweetheart. you never ask for one.”

“you can help me with mine if you want.” matt suggested shyly. he smiled at her so kindly and y/n found herself wondering how she had never really wanted to be friends with him in the first place.

“okay. deal.” y/n returned the smile as both her mother and mary lou beamed with pride. they were finally getting what they wanted. their kids hanging out together.

they got lego sets on their birthday every year and y/n would work with matt to put them together. what started off as an annual thing, quickly turned into a monthly thing for the two of them.

the triplets had just turned 20 & y/n bought matt a ginormous harry potter lego collection that was surely going to take up a majority of their time.

matt was excited for it. maybe even more so than y/n because over their 9 years of friendship, he had developed feelings for his best friend. he knew it wasn’t right to have the feelings but there was nothing he could do about them. their time together became special to him and he cherished every second he got to spend with her.

they immediately began working their way through the diagon alley sets and the process was about to start on the hogwarts castle.

y/n clicked the last two bricks for the gringotts bank together and looked at her creation.

“it looks so perfect. don’t you think?”

“i agree, y/n/n. you killed it.”

“no, we did it together. as a team.”

“we make an incredible team, don’t we?”

“yeah. we sure do.” y/n smiled and looked at the box that contained to castle. “how long do you think that things going to take us?”

“not too long hopefully. i wanna display it and feel proud of something for once.”

“matt, you’re a youtube star. you should be proud of all the hard work you’ve put into this career.”

“i am proud of it. but sometimes, it lacks a certain feeling. i love my fans to death but it gets overwhelming and the only way i find any escape is the time i spend with you putting lego sets together.”

“i understand that feeling all too well, matthew.” she looked at her phone to check the time. “i should be headed out soon. i have to work tomorrow and the commute is going to kill me so i need some rest.”

“why don’t you stay here tonight? i can drive you in the morning.”

“thats sweet, matt. but no. thanks for the offer but i’m fine going home now.” she smiled and stood up. matt followed her to the kitchen.

“i’m serious. we live closer to where you work so it wouldn’t take as long to get there.” he looked at her. “do you just not want to spend time with me anymore?”

“what? no. i will never feel that way about you. you know that.”

“no, i know. it’s a stupid question anyway.”

“i do want to spend time with you. i always do. it’s my favorite thing to do. but if i keep spending nights here, someone’s gonna notice and your fans will freak out and jump to conclusions.”

“yeah i guess you’re right.” he sighed. “but please? just for tonight? i can tell you’re tired and i don’t want you driving home like that. don’t know what i would do if something bad happened to you.”

“okay. i’ll stay. but only for tonight. and only because you said please.”

“that makes me feel so much better.” matt smiled. "you can take the bed and i’ll sleep out on the couch.”

“don’t be ridiculous. your bed is big enough. it’s always been big enough for the both of us. you’re sleeping in here with me.”

“well if you insist.” matt didn’t put up much of a fight. he knew she was going to make him sleep in the bed with her.

“i’m gonna go change into some comfier clothes then. see you in about 10.” y/n grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of matt’s old t-shirts then went to the bathroom. matt quickly changed then sat in his computer chair to wait. when she came out, they both got under the covers and went to bed.

matt waited until he knew she was dead asleep before grabbing his pillow and going out to the couch. he knew she’d be upset but he could handle that. what he couldn’t handle was the warm feeling rising in his chest.

he had convinced himself that his feelings were just those of a little crush. but the more time he spent with her, the stronger they got. he had known her his whole life and despite having only been friends for 9 years, every time they talked, he was finding something new about her that he liked. he’d been trying to think less about her but it was impossible. so he started distancing himself a little.

to say y/n was upset with the distance would be an understatement. her heart was breaking. after a week, she went to chris to see if he knew anything.

“i actually have no idea why he’s being so moody lately. maybe he was talking to a girl who only wanted to use him and he doesn’t want to tell us because he’s ashamed or something.”

“that’s horrible, chris. do you think that’s what really happened?” y/n could feel her heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting matt in any way.

“i doubt that’s what happened, but there’s so many possibilities as to why he’s distancing himself from everyone.”

“yeah i guess.” y/n sighed and set the lego box on the kitchen table. “we were supposed to start this lego set this weekend but he hasn’t been talking to me so i guess i’ll have to do it by myself.”

“wait. i can help you if you want.”

“that’s nice of you, chris. but you don’t have to make up for your brothers absence in my life.”

“hey, you’re my friend too. in fact, you were my friend first actually. so i would love to start hanging out with you again.”

“okay fair point.” y/n looked from the set to chris, contemplating on his offer. “yeah. let’s do it.”

“cool. can’t wait to start.”

“wanna start tonight?”

“yeah sure.” chris smiled. “wait, i can’t tonight. we’re filming a video tonight.”

“oh. tomorrow then?”

“we could actually start tonight if you don’t mind hanging around until we finish filming.”

“you doing a car video or one in the kitchen?”

“kitchen.”

“then can i chill in your room while you film it?”

“why don’t you sit behind the camera and be like an assistant?”

“i’ve never done that before. what will i have to do?”

“you’ll just have to hand us things when we need them. and don’t worry about being on camera. i’ll have nick edit you out.”

“thanks chris. i appreciate it.” she looked around the room. “are the boys even home?”

“no. matt took nick to pick up supplies for the video.”

“why didn’t you go with them? you always do.”

“i had a feeling you’d be stopping by so i figured i’d stay home. didn’t want to miss my opportunity to see you.”

“although you weren’t the triplet i was hoping to talk to, i’m glad you were here.”

“i’m here whenever you need someone to talk to.”

“i appreciate that. thanks, christopher.”

“chris, we’re home!” nick called from the garage. “come help with the stuff.”

“one sec!” he yelled back and turned to y/n. “be right back.” he was gone before she could reply. seconds later, matt was coming up the stairs. he noticed her sitting at the table and stopped in front of the stairs. nick bumped into him and almost fell down the stairs. but once nick saw y/n too, he understood.

“matt, what the fuck? stop acting so weird. she’s your best friend, for crying out loud.” he whispered to his brother.

“just trying to figure out what she’s doing here.” matt replied, rather loudly, causing y/n’s head to shoot up. she noticed matt and sighed.

of course he would make that comment, she thought.

chris heard what matt said and pushed past his brothers to sit next to y/n.

“i invited her here to work on this lego set after we’re done filming tonight. speaking of which, she’s going to be our off camera assistant for the video. so if you have a problem with her being here, i suggest you speak up. or don’t. because she’s staying whether you like it or not.”

“i’m cool with it. it’s not a bad idea to have someone helping out off camera every once in a while.”

“sure. whatever works.” matt waved his hand around and retreated to his room. nick turned to his friend and shook his head.

“please excuse him. he’s been moody all day.”

“kid needs some action. let’s be real.”

“we could probably arrange something.” y/n scrolled through her phone, only half paying attention to the conversation. when she looked up, chris raised his eyebrow. “what? he clearly hasn’t been laid in a while so maybe we should find him someone.”

“i understood what you meant. but i never imagined the suggestion coming from you.” nick chuckled.

“i’m full of surprises.”

“alright. let’s get this video over with.” matt walked out of his room and stood at the kitchen table. he eyed chris and y/n who were conversing in a tone nobody else could hear. she glanced at matt then laughed at what chris said before the two of them were joining matt and nick in the kitchen.

y/n hit the record button as instructed and chris began introducing the video. she watched as the boys each said what they were going to do for the video. matt’s eyes lit up with excitement when he was describing his portion of the video and for a second, it made y/n’s heart melt. until he made eye contact with her and rolled his eyes. whatever she was feeling for matt was quick to disappear.

after the video was filmed, matt headed back to his room and nick went to his. y/n sat with chris at the table as they began the lego set.

“so, do you think matt’s problem is that he hasn’t fucked anybody lately and it’s just built up aggression?”

“that’s one way to put it. but yeah. it all adds up.” chris was focused on the section of the set he was tasked with assembling. his tongue darted in and out as he searched for each piece.

“i guess so.” y/n glanced behind chris at the hallway that went to matt’s bedroom. she prayed he would walk out at that very moment and everything between them would be fixed. but that didn’t happen.

over the next few hours, chris was focused more on the task at hand than y/n was so when he fell asleep at the table, she wasn’t surprised.

“chris, i think you need some rest.” she giggled at his half asleep response as he swatted her hand away.

“five more minutes. i want to get this part done.” he held the pieces up to show her what was left. she looked down at the diagram and smiled.

“that part is finished, chrissy. looks amazing. you did good.”

“thank you.”

“do you want to head to bed now?”

“will you be joining me?”

“i gotta clean up a bit but i’ll be down there in a few minutes, okay?”

“yay.” chris stood up and pulled the lego piece from his cheek. he nearly tripped down the stairs and when he got to his room, he was out like a light.

y/n on the other hand was still very much awake. as she cleaned up their work area, she couldn’t help but glance towards matt’s room. her hope was shrinking. all she wanted was to confront him and ask why he was being such an ass lately. she wanted to yell at him for breaking her heart. but she knew that if she saw him, she would crumble. no yelling would take place on her end. and at this point, she didn’t even care if he yelled at her. she just wanted to see him.

she had put the lego pieces into their designated bin and set the already assembled parts off to the side. just as she was about to head down to chris’ room, she heard a door open and footsteps entered the kitchen. she turned around and saw matt at the refrigerator. his back was turned so he didn’t notice her standing there.

“matthew bernard, we need to talk.”

“no we don’t.” he shook his head, grabbed his root beer and headed back towards his room. y/n was not about to let him go without a fight. she immediately followed and just as matt was about to get comfy at his computer, she pushed the door open and stomped inside.

“you are not pulling this shit with me, matt. it’s complete bullshit.”

“god, do you ever mind your own business?” he set his can down and rolled his eyes. “i don’t owe you anything.”

“as your best friend, i think your absence needs to be explained.”

“we can’t be friends anymore. there’s your explanation.”

“not good enough.” she sat on the edge of his bed and stared at him before averting her gaze and fiddling with her fingers. “why don’t you want to be friends anymore? did i do something wrong?”

“yes. now please leave me alone. i’m tired.”

“okay.” y/n sighed and left his room without putting up more of a fight. matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. it was killing him to hurt her this way but he had to do it. his feelings weren’t reciprocated and he needed to distance himself, whatever it took.

the next morning, y/n was quiet throughout breakfast, which was unusual to chris. she was normally a yapper like he was but when she responded to his cheery good morning with a slight head nod, he knew something was up. and he knew exactly what caused it. or more specifically, who caused her to go silent.

when they were finally alone, y/n broke down and told chris everything. she didn’t want him to be mad at matt so when she explained it all, it took all of her strength to keep him from confronting matt.

“please don’t. it’s not worth it.”

“bullshit it’s not. he’s ruining the most amazing friendship for something so stupid. he didn’t even tell you what you happened to do to cause this sudden change so he doesn’t get to be protected by you anymore. i have to kick his ass.”

“chris, please?”

“ugh, fine. but i don’t like this. you used to be so happy and calm. but now you’re the complete opposite. it changed overnight and i’m not happy about it.”

“i’ll be fine. i still have you and nick.” she smiled at her best friend. it was only a half smile. the one where chris could tell she didn’t want to do it. but he put his arm around her and smiled back.

“i’m gonna make you feel better.”

“and how do you plan on doing that, christopher?”

“by taking you to get lunch. your favorite.”

“you can’t drive, moron. but i appreciate the thought.”

“damn. what can we do that’s close to the house?”

“can we continue the lego set? we were getting so far before someone passed out.”

“hey, i was working really hard.”

“i know. you worked yourself into a deep sleep, darling.”

“if that’s what will make you happy, then let’s go finish the set.”

“yay.” y/n clapped her hands together and ran upstairs. chris chuckled and followed behind her.

“i’ll order your favorite food for lunch.” he pulled out her chair for her then sat next to her with a smile.

“chris, you don’t have to.”

“i know. but you’re my best friend and i love making you happy because i love you.”

“i love you too.”

and they both meant it. not romantically of course. but they both knew that their bond was unbreakable, even more so now than it had ever been.

matt walked out of his room when he heard y/n giggling. he didn’t expect to see y/n leaning her head on chris’ shoulder. it bothered him but there was nothing he could do about it. instead, he cleared his throat to make his presence known. y/n was the first to turn.

“oh. it’s just you. what do you want?”

“you to leave.” matt replied rather quickly, like he had been storing that answer away for this specific moment, causing y/n to stare at him in shock.

“fuck you, matt.” y/n looked at chris before sliding her chair away from the table. “i’m sorry, chris. but i can’t do this anymore.” she grabbed her phone and walked out the front door.

“what the fuck, matt?!?!” chris yelled at his brother before running after y/n.

matt watched them disappear and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. nick appeared seconds later and gave matt a look.

“what is wrong with you?” he didn’t even have to ask what happened. he heard the majority of it. “if that’s how you treat women, it’s no wonder you’re single.”

“hey, just back off. i need some space away from her.”

“and instead of telling her, like an adult, you just stopped talking to her entirely? except when you do actually speak to her, you’re the biggest asshole in the planet.” nick shook his head. “why do you need the space anyway?”

“it’s complicated, nick.” matt collapsed on the couch and took a breath before resting his head in his hands. “i’m in love with her.” for the first time since matt realized how he felt, the revelation felt real. someone else was now aware of the feelings.

“then tell her, you fucking dumbass. this isn’t healthy. for either of you. you’re breaking more hearts than needed.”

“i can’t tell her. she’s my best friend.”

“correction. she was your best friend, up until about a week ago, when you became a complete dickhead. just fucking talk to her.”

“i just can’t. it’s better this way.”

“for who, matt? for who?” nick slapped his brothers shoulder and returned to his room, leaving matt alone.

outside, y/n made it halfway down the street before chris caught up to her. when he was beside her, she slowed her pace and looked at her feet.

“i’m sorry for leaving like that, chris. i just can’t get it through my head that i was best friends with someone for 9 years and now it’s just all gone to shit.” she kicked a stone in her path and turned to enter the park. she sat on one swing while chris sat next to her on the other. “i just don’t understand what i even did for him to be acting this way, you know? if i had any idea, it might take the weight off my shoulders. but either way, it sucks.”

“yeah. i know.” chris looked over at her and sighed. “i wish things were different.”

“why couldn’t i have fallen in love with you instead? we have so much more in common and you’re actually nice to me. you care about me and matt does not.”

“you love him?” chris’ eyes widened at his best friends revelation. y/n froze for a brief moment before making the swing move side to side.

“yeah, i guess i do. and part of me just wants to yell at him and tell him he’s breaking my heart and the other part just wants to yell at him. which would be fine but i know i could never yell at him. it sucks.”

“i understand. it’s confusing, but i think i get it. and if we loved each other, then life would be simpler.”

“life is never simple for me. it’s like the universe is telling me i’m never meant to be happy.”

“why don’t you try telling matt how you feel? maybe he feels the same.”

“um, did you miss the part where i said the universe doesn’t want me to be happy? because in a perfect world, matt would definitely have feelings for me.”

“you guys are so similar and the fact that neither of you has realized that the other one is in love with you, is ridiculous. i mean, it’s pretty obvious how much you guys truly love each other.”

“i don’t think it’s-“

“oh please. the stares, the fact you’re together 24/7, the inside jokes, the way you blush when he even acknowledges you. the constant teasing. the hand holding in public so y’all don’t get separated from each other. you guys are like the little 4x1 flat lego bricks.”

“come again?”

“you’re good on your own but when you’re attached together, it’s hard to pull you apart.”

“when did you become so wise, christopher?”

“i’ve always been wise. but for matters of the heart, i’m an expert.”

“says the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before.”

“i don’t want to commit to someone if they’re not gonna stick around. i want it to be real.”

“yeah i get that. but thank you for this talk. maybe i’ll talk to matt when i’m over next time.”

“why not stay tonight? we still have to finish that lego set.”

“i’m not ready to see matt.” she sighed. “but if we can do it in your room, i would consider staying tonight.”

“you got yourself a deal. and you can even have my bed tonight.”

“such a gentleman, christopher.” y/n stood from her swing and pulled chris up. “let’s go.”

when they got back home, matt was nowhere to be found. it was like y/n’s prayers had been answered.

they quickly got to work on finishing their lego set. chris played some quiet music in the background and helped put the finishing touches on the set. when it was finished, y/n smiled widely.

“thank you for this, chris.”

“it was my pleasure. and i know i wasn’t the triplet you pictured while working on this set, but i’m glad you let me help.”

“i’d pick you any day.” she patted his knee and stood up to stretch. “i’m gonna go get some snacks from the kitchen. want anything?”

“pepsi of course.”

“should’ve known.” she playfully shook her head and walked up to the kitchen. nick was in the living room and when he saw her, he smiled.

"hey. what are you up to?"

"just grabbing some snacks for chris and i. what are you up to?" she opened the fridge and grabbed the drinks before going to the pantry and looking through the snacks.

"matt said something to me earlier and i've been thinking about it for a few hours."

"what did he tell you?"

"i think that's something he needs to tell you himself."

"that would be easy if he was actually talking to me instead of being an asshole." y/n set the snacks on the counter and turned towards the living room. it was then that she noticed the flowers on the table. "what's this?" she walked closer and looked at them. there was a note under the flowers so she picked it up and read it. it was in matt's handwriting.

i know this may be a little too late but i needed to let you know that i am sorry for being so stupid. these are your favorite flowers and i will love you until the very last one dies. i promise.

y/n inspected the flowers and noticed that one of them was made entirely out of legos. "nick, were you aware of this?"

"i wasn't aware that this would be how he was going to tell you. but i knew he loved you." nick stood next to her and smiled. "what do you think?"

"is this why he's been an ass lately? because he loves me?"

"i think so." he put his hand on her shoulder and admired the flowers. "so he loves you. do you love him?"

"i do, actually. but this isn't fair. he can't treat me the way he has been & then try to make things better by giving me a lego flower."

"maybe you guys need to talk. he's in his room." nick nodded his head down the hallway before heading up to his room. y/n glanced at the snacks, then at the hallway that lead to matt's room. she grabbed the lego flower and the note then headed to matt's room. she knocked gently and the door swung open. upon seeing her, matt's gaze softened.

"hey." he looked at her hands and saw the flower. "i see you got the note."

"i did." she walked past matt and sat in his chair while he sat on the edge of his bed. "it's not fair, matt."

"what do you mean?"

"while i appreciate the lego flower, i don't appreciate the fact that you've treated me like crap for a week and thought you could make up for it with the note and the flowers."

"i figured it wouldn't be enough but just so you know, i'm prepared to do whatever it takes to win you back. you being with chris just isn't natural."

"me and chris? is that why you've been upset these past few days? you think i'm with chris?"

"you've been spending so much time with him lately. and you guys have so much chemistry."

"well, that's ridiculous."

"so you're not with chris?"

"no. but i've come to the realization that my life would be easier if i had just fallen in love with him instead of you."

"you fell in love with me? when?"

"like 5 years ago, i think. and it's been torture just being your friend for so long. every time we'd start a new lego set, it was like falling in love with you all over again. your face would light up like a kid in a candy store and i found it so endearing whenever you'd receive a new set."

"if it helps, it's been torture for me too. i've been pretending for years that i had no feelings for you whatsoever. and i realize now that there is absolutely no real excuse for the way i acted recently. but these feelings are fairly new to me. and i thought i had gotten over what i thought was just a crush. but it turns out, i love you. and i'm always going to love you, no matter what. you can stay mad at me and that's fine. because i love you." matt's leg began to bounce as he confessed everything. y/n got up from the chair and sat beside him. "and it's been torture to see you and chris working on lego sets when that was our thing."

"working on lego sets with chris meant nothing to me. sure it was fun and i enjoy spending time with him. but it was nothing compared to doing them with you." y/n placed her hand on his calmly, stopping his leg from shaking. he looked at her and when their eyes met, matt felt like he was on fire. like he was falling in love again.

"can we start over?"

"and erase our entire history? not a chance." y/n smiled. "let's just pretend the last week didn't happen and we can pick up where we left off, if that's okay with you."

"it's more than okay with me." matt chuckled. "just promise me you won't work on anymore lego sets with chris."

"from now on, i will only work on lego sets with the person i love."

"i love you too." matt smiled and placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"you still have the hogwarts castle? or did you do it yourself?"

"i was hoping to start it with you."

"good. we can start it in the morning."

"why not right now?" matt pouted when y/n stood up.

"because i promised chris snacks and a pepsi. don't want to make him wait any longer for them."

"can't you just deliver them to him then come back? i miss you and i'm sure he'll understand."

"we'll see. but you'll understand if i don't return tonight?"

"of course. chris is important to you and i love that you guys get along so well."

"and i'm sure he'll understand it when i tell him i want to come up here to spend time with you."

"hurry back, love." matt chuckled and watched y/n disappear from his room. she walked into chris' room with the snacks and smiled at him.

"what took you so long?"

"i made up with matt and turns out, he loves me." she couldn't contain the excitement she was feeling.

"i told you he did. and i'm so happy for you." he chuckled and opened his pepsi. "i take it you want to spend time with matt again, right?"

"you're not mad, are you?"

"of course not. you're happy and that makes me happy." chris smiled. "just don't abandon me altogether."

"i promise to make time for you too, chris." she kissed his head and ran back up to matt's room, jumping on his bed. "he understood."

"great. now i can do something i've been wanting to do for months." matt pulled her close and finally kissed her. the feeling of her lips fitting perfectly with his was enough to make him feel like he was dreaming. thankfully, he wasn't. it was real and matt couldn't get enough.

being together was good for the both of them.

#matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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jenomi · 3 months

Text

i miss you, i'm sorry

pairing: idol!jeno x idol!reader

you weren't anticipating seeing jeno at your gig today. you were at a live lounge to perform your new song and a cover of "I miss you, I'm sorry" by Gracie Abrams. you'd be lying if you said you weren't thinking of jeno when you picked that song.

jeno was here to promote his new song with his group, but you didn't bother to check who the other feature would be when you signed up for the show. nobody knew about your relationship except close friends, not even your manager so they couldn't warn you of this. both of you had to keep it a secret due to the nature of your careers.

but it was 5 years. 5 years with jeno, the love of your life. or was it now the former love of your life? it hurt your heart to think about it.

when you bumped into him and the rest of nct dream, you said your hellos politely. you used to be friends with the rest of the dreamies, but the relationship faded as you stopped dating jeno. every time you would look at jeno, it's like he had a radar for you so he would look back at you immediately. it hurt to look at him in the eyes, so you looked away quickly.

you went on stage first, performing the title song to your new mini album. it was an upbeat song, describing the freedom you feel when not bound by ropes holding you back. but for your real fans, they would study the undertones of your new song and know that it's actually a sad song about the longing for those boundaries you once had.

jeno listened to your song, because of course no matter what, he still supports you. he was by your side as you rose to fame.

looking back, you realized your relationship with jeno was a little suffocating. having to keep it a secret, not being able to eat out at your favorite restaurants, or even walk on the street together. it was fun at first and you believed you loved each other enough to make it work. but jeno started to get more and more nervous about your secret relationship, especially seeing how other male idols caught in dating scandals were treated. you tried to ease his mind on the topic, but as time went on, it was beyond saving.

you just didn't think jeno would be able to leave so easily.

"The next song I'll sing is a cover by one of my favorite artists. Um..." you weren't sure if you should give any background information, knowing jeno was backstage and might be watching, "I hope you enjoy."

"Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you?"

although the end was messy, you still cling on to the better moments in your relationship. when you went to the beach together, covered by hats, sunglasses, and a big umbrella, backs more tan than your chest from lying on your fronts to hide from the public. it was ridiculous and excessive, but you would always laugh at each other's uneven tan. when he would come home after being away for months on tour, locking himself in your house to catch up on lost time.

"You said, 'forever,' in the end I fought it. Please be honest, are we better for it?"

being together for 5 years, naturally you talked about marriage. it was forever for the both of you, you especially couldn't imagine yourself with anyone else. but now, you watch jeno from afar and online and see that he's happy. you also got some freedom back after breaking up. you can't help but wonder if maybe you outgrew each other? are you better off without each other?

a piece of your heart broke off every time you would answer 'yes'.

"You said, "forever," and I almost bought it. I miss fighting in your old apartment"

you begin tearing up as you reach the latter half of the song. you always found sanctuary at jeno's apartment. there were memories all over it.

jeno was watching from side stage. he could hear the slight quiver in your voice. he couldn't miss it, he could always tell your mood from your voice. he loved you for 5 years. how could he forget? he could also hear how much of your heart you were pouring into this song. he couldn't help but reminisce about your relationship. he felt a lump forming in his throat as he became overcome with nostalgia from your relationship.

"And I know you said that we're not talking. But I miss you, I'm sorry"

jeno told you to stop messaging him. it came out harsh, but it was too hard to stay in contact with you and not want to get back together. in the moment, he thought he was doing the right thing, but now looking back he doesn't quite remember the reason for breaking up in the first place. he kept up with your activities, he would watch your performance videos to see how you were doing and add up the streaming numbers for your success.

as he watched your videos and you performing live, he realized he messed up. how could he live without you? the time after your breakup were a blur, jeno kept busy to prevent himself from thinking about you in his free time. watching you now, crying as you sang a song about a messy breakup, much similar to the one between the two of you, his heart broke. he missed you, too. he'd like to think this song is dedicated to him - but he'll confront you after your set to talk.

as you sing the outro, you're trying your best to keep it together. too many memories were flooding back. you knew what you were getting into when choosing this song, but seeing jeno in person for the first time after he walked out on you opened the gates to all the memories you shoved in the back of your mind trying to forget.

when you finish, a tear slips down your cheek before you're able to swipe it away. the crowd cheers and coos as you bow and say your thank yous before rushing off stage.

you stop in your tracks when you see jeno standing side stage with sad, tear-rimmed eyes.

"y/n-"

the tears are about to burst just hearing your name on his lips. you hold up your hand and walk quickly towards your waiting room. you pass the other dreamies on your way as they call your name, their voices laced with concern.

you hear the producer call them on stage. good, jeno won't be chasing after you. after all, he put his job above you in the end. by the time they were done, you'd be long gone.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

part 2 here!

#jeno #nct dream jeno #jeno imagines #jeno angst #nct dream imagines #nct jeno #nct dream #jeno lee #nct #nct jeno imagines

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eddiediaaz · 18 days

Text

hi guys, i am kind of ashamed and embarrassed to have to do this, but i figured it can't hurt to ask. basically i am really struggling right now (i know a lot of us are). i need financial help, so i set up a ko-fi page ☕

any kind of help would be so appreciated and i am so grateful for anyone taking the time to read this little post.

long story short: because of situations completely out of my control, i lost my job in vfx after almost 8 years and i am now forced to switch careers. i'm going back to school and can't find a part time job even tho i have been working non stop for 15 years. financial aid will only cover my rent, so i absolutely need to work 20 to 30 hours a week to cover the rest of my living expenses, but it's really hard to find a job. i am also currently over 10k cad in debt from my film school loans and credit cards.

signal boost would be appreciated, if you can 💕

my situation in more details under the cut for those who are curious

i was working in the vfx industry as a 2D compositor since 2016 (i have worked on over 40 films and tv shows), but in december of 2023 i lost my job due to the hollywood strikes (as expected, and as it should—i fully support the strikes). this was supposed to be temporary for a couple months where i could get unemployment benefits (only 45% of my usual salary though). unfortunately, on may 31st 2024, my government announced that they are significantly cutting the funding & tax credits for the vfx industry where i live. what does this mean? mass lay offs. thousands of canadians and other people in the world working in the industry are losing their career, including me. there will only be about 20% vfx jobs left where i live by 2025. vfx shops and production houses have already started to close doors here. i'm still mourning this career i have been working in for 8 years and loved, even tho it's been difficult and demanding at times (lots of overtime), but there are just no jobs right now (unless you are a senior vfx artist with decades of experience) and the future will only get more bleak. i could move abroad and follow the industry that is already moving somewhere else, but i don't want to do that on my own (i am already super lonely as it is!!) and i can't afford it.

my unemployment benefits will run out by the last week of september. in 4 weeks. i've been sending resumes everywhere, both online and in person, but i am just not getting anything in return. even tho i have over 15 years of experience working in various jobs and i have never been fired from anywhere. even tho my resume and cover letters are solid because they have been approved my professional counselors (a free service for people under 35 where i live). so much for they're hiring everywhere...

since my vfx compositing skills are very niche and not really applicable to much else, i decided to go back to school, taking college classes in the admin and excecutive assistant fields, since it's something that i think would be good for me and there are lots of jobs for that here. i will be getting some financial aid, but it's nowhere near enough to survive. it will only cover my rent, and that's because my rent is super cheap for my city. my college classes start on september 30 and i am excited for it, but also very stressed because i still don't have a part time job.

i've been living on my own with a small salary for over 10 years now, but it truly is the first time that i'm struggling this hard. i honestly don't have anything worth selling except some taylor swift perfumes, which i sold this week. i also have over 6k of credit debt and another 4.5k of school loans left to pay. at the bare minimum i will need about $1.000 CAD/month to cover my other bills and expenses after rent, hence why the need for a job ASAP. i am desperate and my mental health has been a huge mess. this is why i decided to open my ko-fi accounts. not that i'm expecting much, but anything can help, i think.

i don't have much to offer in exchange, except gifs? i'm wondering if (cheap, low price) gif commissions are a thing? i have no idea know, but i set up a poll on my ko-fi page to see if anyone would be interested.

thank you for reading if you've made it here, it's appreciated 💖

#little aesthetic gif just for attention lol #signal boost #i have no idea how to tag this #kofi

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Text

How To Adapt To Fire (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, death/gore, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, pining, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, fade-to-black, nudity, suggestive descriptions, dirty jokes, etc.

A/N: Taglist is full.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Johnny watches you slap another news clipping to the board he’d bought you for thirty-two dollars and twenty-three cents, tired eyes blinking slowly. Standing in his apartment’s living room in his boxers and an oversized shirt, he’d woken up to the sound of muttering, and it had been just that for the last week.

When he’d allowed you to live in his spare room until you could find a new apartment building to call your own, he didn’t expect you there to be so much grumbling. Like a little bug in his ear—not that he minded all that much. At least, if you were that bug.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” you groan, running a hand down your face. “How did he find me? How did he know I already knew so much about the case?”

He, the arsonist.

Your entire building had been a total loss—and, sure enough, the lock had been busted off of your apartment door just like the scene of the fires that resulted in casualties. You had been targeted, and it wasn’t just an accident. There was intent there; a threat.

Stay away from me, or else.

Johnny had sighed long when he read that in the report he’d gotten his hands on—there was no way in hell anything was stopping you except…well, except yourself.

While he had envisioned one day potentially asking you to move in with him, he hadn’t expected that to happen so soon. Certainly not before the first fucking date. He hadn’t even gained the courage to ask you out yet, and here you were—pajama pants polling at your ankles and Johnny’s baggy sweatshirt loose around your shoulders. The Scot stands with the heat of sleep and attraction on his skin.

He tried not to stare, really he did, but the way you looked in his clothes was too much of a distraction for his own good.

The man clears his throat, face burning.

“I’m beggin’ you to give it a rest, Dearie. At least five minutes.” Johnny sighs. “It’s not healthy.”

He doesn’t think he’s seen you shed a tear over your apartment—about your belongings. In reality, he was taken aback by it. Soap wouldn’t have blamed you at all…but you just seemed angry. It worried him, but the emotion was well within your right to hold. Just as it was within his right to try and keep you from rushing into danger.

“Not now,” you grumble. “Not until I know how he found out my room number.”

“You aren’t exactly unknown.” The fireman walks closer to your standing form, hand moving up to scratch at his back as he gunts. “Mostly everyone who would care to look into your career knows about you. It wouldn’t be hard.”

Johnny moves his vision over the board, pausing before he licks his lips.

“...They’ll be needing me in today, Hen,” he breathes.

Your lips tighten, and you glance over quickly to find blue eyes already looking. Snapping your attention back to the board, you push back against the burn of your face.

“It’s your job, I’m not going to tell you not to go in.”

“If you need me here, then I can—”

“John,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a heavy frown and turning his way. “No way. Go in.”

Johnny’s serious face doesn’t lessen, and you’re struck with how often those lines on his face are becoming commonplace.

You wouldn’t say that you were taking this well.

Forcing yourself to work; making your mind push back at the deep pit that seemed to be growing. Everything you’d worked for—everything you’d had. Gone. Up in smoke.

Two people had died in that inferno, and you can’t help but put that on yourself.

Fingers going up to tap at your chin, your attention goes back to the board, the heavy weight of bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. You’d tried to re-write what you had in your notes as well as you were able, but there had been a reason for making a physical board in the first place.

Johnny watches you, his brows tight and his fingers twitching. Sighing, he fixes his feet and lightly places a hand on the back of your spine, blinking quickly your eyes dart over before the tension begins to bleed from your muscles.

Your gaze begins to soften, but your voice is still a light firmness. “Stop that.”

The man blinks. “Stop what?”

“Stop being all…” You huff, sagging into his hand. “You.”

Johnny pushes a chuckle, shifting to stare at you fully and letting the smirk move over his lips. His fingers move along your back, rubbing tiny circles as the room goes airy—how quick it was that you could fall into this sense of attachment. To anyone outside of the apartment, it would seem the two of you were in a strange relationship, and that would be true to some extent.

Your face heats up, and Johnny’s large palm flattens. He moves and presses his nose into your hair.

“Now what’s that supposed to mean, then?” He grunts, and you can feel his flickering smirk as clear as day.

Leaning over into him, you sigh, glaring at the board as your heart patters.

“It means you’re distracting me.”

Johnny hums, thumb moving up and down over the knob of your spine. “Talk to me,” he mutters. “Let me help, aye?” He blinks slowly, face hot and his lungs palpitating in his chest. The man cared about you so much—his heart ached for what you’d been put through. Losing a home like that.

Your lashes flutter, a near purr emitting from your throat at the hypnotic movements of Johnny’s grip. Like a damn harpy, he was digging his claws into you; it had been happening for months. Of course, you’d let him touch you—how could you not? Even his sense of courage and justice was something that let you know his character, his honor.

This case was just as important to him as it was to you.

“Go,” you mutter, shifting your head so that you can stare at him. Johnny’s visage pulls back, his stubble moving with the worried angle of his lips; his skull tilts, almost like a dog cocking its snout. “We can figure something out later—if I get you fired I’d finally gain a conscious.”

Johnny sighs, looking you up and down. “...I’ll be making dinner tonight. Just,” he breathes, and as his hand leaves you, your body fights the instinct to shiver. “Wait for me, Bonnie.”

You take in the closeness between the two of you—how your bodies melt into one another as if on instinct. Something was startling about how easy it was to live in the same apartment as Johnny. It had almost been too easy. Sharing food, blankets, and looks.

Your eyes follow after Soap as he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand before turning and walking back to his room, bare feet padding over the floor. His legs move, small burns and scars all over before your vision travels up the broadness of his back; the stretch of his arms as he brings them up with a groan to itch at his head.

Licking your lips, the sight is enough to quiet your mind. Seeing how, like water, his clothes morph into the swell of his thighs and the…your face bursts into fire, and your head snaps away.

Clearing your throat, you blink quickly and try to re-focus on your board of suspects.

—

Johnny tightens the belt over his waist, huffing softly as he walks into the fire department’s bay door—passing the red trucks and patting the dogs as they come up to mob him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, the clicking of little claws tapping over the concrete floors and the panting of hot breath. “Good to see you too, little rascals.”

The fireman looks around the area, seeing some of the boys mulling about doing repairs or fixing up the slight mess. Johnny motions a hand when he’s greeted, and before long he’s entering the main hub of where he wants to go—the kitchen.

Grabbing a cup, the Scot’s intention is to get some water before settling into his desk and diving into something that can take his mind off the woman living in his apartment. Licking his lips, Johnny gets momentarily lost in the remembrance of your skin—your determination.

He’s angry. Angry that someone’s done this to you; had disrupted your life so violently. A question was stuck swirling in his head as he began hearing the murmuring from the walk-in pantry.

What would have happened if you hadn’t been with him that morning?

“What do you mean ‘that was you?’” Johnny’s fingers freeze around the rim of a glass, blinking into his own smaller reflection. Brows furrowing, the Scot’s head swivels to the kitchen pantry and the barely cracked open door and the voice that emanates from it.

For some reason, the stagnant air after that sentence makes Johnny’s spine straighten. Blue eyes stare blankly, and fingers twitch as the same voice starts again.

“I thought you said it was over?! That the last one was,” a strangled word, a fast inhale. “We had a fucking deal.”

Heart slow in his chest, Soap stares the longer this seemingly one-sided conversation goes on. There was something off—the words seemed hurried; panicked, even. It wasn’t the usual emotions you had when having a talk with someone.

Taking a steady step back, the Scot remembered how fast your pulse had run when he had you at his chest a week ago—the fast slam and the whites of your eyes on full display. Even if you didn’t confess it to him, Johnny knew you’d been afraid of the fire. Fearful. He knew you weren’t sleeping.

Maybe the fireman was being paranoid, but anything that he didn’t understand made his hackles rise like a feral dog—certainly with you, technically, under his watch now. Everyone was a potential threat. Face stiff, Johnny begins walking over to the pantry with nearly silent feet, boots softly flattening to the tile floor.

Stopping outside of the door, his ears hone in.

“This isn’t right! There’s a difference between what you do and what I do! We stuck together, but this is it. I’ve covered for you—I’ve tried to smooth everything out, but this isn’t something that I can look past anymore. She wasn’t even involved yet!”

Johnny’s lips tighten, his eyes burning through the barrier until he lifts his hand and settles it loosely on the doorknob, not pushing even as the thin material shifts minutely. The alarms in his head were going off, and he didn’t like that.

Muscles tight, the Scot moves a bit closer, shoulder just beginning to touch the wood before—

Kurt Matthews, one of the rookie firefighters, shoves himself through.

Johnny strangles a gasp as the two men nearly collide with one another, only shoving out, what he hopes to be, a casual call of, “Hell’s bells. Careful there, Kid.”

The man’s wild eyes lock on him, stumbling back before Soap’s hands move to grasp his arm, a dark phone held lightly in Kurt’s hand. Johnny looks at it silently before he forces a blank chuckle. “Sorry, then. Was going to get some bread—you know how it is, eh?” Kurt looks frazzled, a sheen of sweat over his face; eyes tiny. “The boys never fill up the bread box after they finish a loaf.”

“What?” Matthews quickly mutters, before shaking his head and waving a hand. “Yeah, right, whatever.”

He swiftly moves past the Scot, brushing shoulders. The mohawked man’s nose pulls in, and blue eyes watch the disappearing individual.

Johnny’s throat swallows down saliva.

Kurt Matthews smells like gasoline.

—

You hear the sound of the TV and sniffle, pushing the heels of your hands into your stinging eyes.

It wasn’t a question as to why you had waited until Johnny left to let yourself feel the hopelessness that was sinking into your chest—you were surprised you lasted that long, though. Tiny tears dribble out over your cheeks, but you fight them with a growl.

“Keep it together,” you sigh harshly. “C’mon, keep it together.”

Your heart jerks when the front door of the apartment opens, and you’re quick to stand up from the couch where you had been sitting, clearing your throat as Johnny’s call echoes.

“Just me!”

You divulge immediately into your hurried sentences, waving a hand. The shake in your voice is obvious. “I have some of the names I remember writing down—it isn’t much but I—”

“What happened?” Johnny’s hands capture your face in a swift second; he isn’t even out of his work clothes before he’s over and touching you. It’s like he teleported over at the slightest hint of distress, not even a moment of hesitation. “Whoa, hey, hey,” he breathes a bit slower, softer. “What’s this then, Bonnie?”

Delicate movements of his fingers scrape your flesh, thumb running as blue eyes come into focus. Your lungs tighten up again at the sight of tense worry—Johnny’s face all hard with the lines of his forehead and the narrowing of his eyelids.

“Let me see,” he utters, tilting your head up so the brightness of your eyes is visible to him; the wetness of your flesh. “Hey, now.”

The man’s attention goes up and down on the off chance this is physical pain instead of the internal kind. But he knows better than that. So, Johnny stuffs down the hunch he had about the man in his own ranks and places all of his concern on you and your bitter tears.

Even when you try to grumble his worry away.

“It’s just stupid tears, MacTavish,” your voice cracks as he drags you to him, curling his arm behind the stretch of your shoulder blades in an addictive display that leaves your nose sniffling again. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Quit it,” the Scot pleads. “Jesus, Pencils,” he sighs, arms trapping you in just like before. “Just let me hold you, yeah? I swear, you’ll make my heart burst ‘fore I get you to admit you’re feeling something.”

Your glossy eyes flinch into a weak glare. “I’m not that emotionally constipated, jackass.”

Johnny’s breath moves over your scalp.

“You sure about that?” Your face goes to an annoyed sheen, and from the soft rest of Johnny’s chest, you look over at him. He’s trying a light smirk, but his eyes are still serious.

Letting yourself melt into him, you take in his scent and the heat he offers you, surrounded by the remnants of his life and future—this apartment that offers you a reprieve.

You close your eyes and let your hands shift up to grab at Johnny’s shirt slowly, your heart gradually easing. Unaware of the soft gaze watching every second; his own grip tightening.

“...You’re like a dog,” you whisper, tears drying. “Always running over.” Your pause lays out a beautiful scene. “I like it.”

Johnny’s cheeks flare to a bright red. He clears his throat, glancing away from your face. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“Hm,” you hum, shrugging and nuzzling your nose into his pulse. You hear it racing. “Up to you, I suppose.”

The man laughs, chest jerking.

The silence that falls after is like a blanket—settling thickly over the space as the last of your sniffles finally halt. You didn’t like crying; not in front of others. It was easier to just push through it, but Johnny’s presence made you soft, at the same time you can’t tell if that’s good or bad. But it did make your fear lessen, and maybe that was something you couldn’t overlook.

You tighten your hold on his waist, and he grunts, glancing down at you as his gut swirls. The man’s half-lidded eyes flutter, fingers flinching along your clothes. The room gets warmer, or maybe it’s just him.

“I guess,” you begin under your breath, voice muffled by his skin. “I could use your help. Officially.”

“Ooo,” the Scot whispers. “‘Officially’—look at that.”

You huff, lips pulling up.

“Well,” the man mutters, chin resting on top of your head as the sun outside begins to dip lower. “‘Officially’ I have some information that my Bonnie little boss might like to hear.”

Your smirk grows wider, your heart hammering faster as your pulse moves with fire.

“Oh?” Your nails drag his sides, and you feel Johnny’s breath hitch, a low purr emanating from his chest.

“Oh, aye,” a hand grips your chin, dragging you back until you’re once more blinking into his gaze head-on. His finger pets your flesh, your breath puffing out as he stares down at you. He swallows down the nervousness in the back of his throat, the urgency that instinct pushes away in this moment of anticipation as he watches your face. “But I’m having a moment, it seems—can’t think straight.”

“Why’s that?” You lick your lips and see cobalt blue follow them.

“Because this Hen in front of me has been a damn tease since I’ve met ‘er.”

Any snappy reply is cut short before it even can fully register in your head, and all thoughts halt the second his firm mouth is on your own.

You gasp, but there isn’t an ounce of yourself that pulls back, not when Johnny’s fingers play at your shirt-hem, or even when your own slide under his clothes. You don’t pull back when they hit the floor—don’t pull back when your bodies follow suit.

A dance of fire and ice moves with the writhing of flesh and the passing of heavy kisses; panting breath. Grunts and groans as if every pass of lips and teeth is a knife into supple skin. Tense legs and flexing arms—dragging fingertips digging into every latchable dip even as the dead of night grows longer.

It’s only after every desire has been satiated that you finally utter about the finer details of this mess.

Johnny’s hands move down your bare back, slipping to grip your waist and drag you into him as you sigh. Your thigh lifts to rest over his hip, leg hanging uselessly over as it brushes the ruffled sheets as lips find your neck, tiny nips and passes of skin mixing as your eyes flutter.

The fireman makes a noise of satisfaction in the back of his throat, hand sliding to hook under your kneecap, caressing.

“So attentive,” you murmur, and your fingers run through his hair, itching at his mohawk as the longer strands slip through. Johnny burrows closer, nose pushing your head upwards as he kisses the space where your neck connects to the underside of your chin.

He chuckles smoothly, stubble scraping along as you shiver at the sensation. The hard press of his pecs shove into you, and you lightly breathe; fingers twitching.

“How are we feeling?” Johnny grunts in between his worship.

“Energized,” you grin, half-closed eyes shimmering.

The man smiles widely, grip sliding downward slowly as he chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Not like that,” you groan, shoving his hand away as he laughs, rolling onto his back and folding his arm over his eyes.

“Ah,” Johnny’s chest jumps with his amusement, itching at his bare abdomen for a moment. “Worth a try, then.”

“Dog,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve had enough of a fill.”

“That’s all up to opinion, Dearie.” He smirks, peeking at you as your face heats up.

Shoving at his shoulder, he laughs again and pushes up, hands melting into the mattress beside your head as he looms above you as a large wall.

“I’ll never have enough of a fill when it comes to you and your wet c-”

You snap a hand to his mouth, covering it as you glare openly, sneering. “Finish that sentence and you’ll never have me in this bed again.”

Johnny’s glinting eyes stare from above your hand, and you feel his smile as clear as day as his face stays stuck close to yours.

A teasing kiss is leveled on your palm and you roll your eyes, pulling away to lightly push at his forehead. The Scot lets you shove at him, and you sit up fully as he grunts and rests his back on the headboard.

Shifting your body, you straddle his lap and grasp his chin.

“A few hours ago,” Johnny’s eyes are blown, and you feel his touch on your hips. He hums in question, barely listening above the squeeze of your legs. “You were going to tell me something—a lead.”

“Was I?” The fireman breathes, licking at your finger as it goes to rest on his bottom lip.

You cock your head with seriousness and a level of amusement in your gaze. “You were. Tell me.”

“You need to work on your pillow talk, Pencils.” Johnny sets a sloppy kiss on your collarbone and sighs.

There’s a moment where you both stare into one another, and the gravity of this begins to set in once more. Carnal desire and feelings aside, there was always an edge to the both of you—this need to be seen through whether for some sense of justice or care.

“Kurt Matthews—rookie fireman,” Johnny grunts, looking away for a quick moment. “Heard him speaking on the phone, got a bad feeling ‘bout it that I can’t place. Might be nothing, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t tell you.”

“Kurt,” you breathe, brows pulling in. There’s a long pause. “Kurt Matthews…that sounds familiar.”

Hopping off Johnny, the man groans softly, a slightly needy look following after as your bare body slips away. He knocks his skull against the headboard, side-eyeing your backside as you hurry off to your board. A light smirk makes itself known before your voice snaps him out of his memories. “Stop looking at my ass, MacTavish!”

His face goes beet red as he grunts, quickly snapping his eyes away.

You wrap yourself into one of the blankets that was on the couch, letting it hang off of your shoulders as you snatch one of the papers on your mess of information.

“A fireman,” you mutter to yourself, finger running down names and brief descriptions. “An inside job? No, that would be…” Your eyes spark to life as Soap shuffles in, running through his hair. “That would be one hell of a story.”

Attention locked in, your eyes instantly stop on your own chicken scratch—the name at the bottom of the page.

Kurt Matthews. Witness to fire on the fifth; one dead.

“Off duty? Or not hired yet?” You ask, lips tightening. “Why was he at the scene? Johnny,” your curious voice calls to him, and he slips up behind you, flattening his front to your back. You lean into him, showing him the paper. “When did he get taken on into the department?”

“Month ago,” Johnny’s face pulls, frowning. A name catches his attention, and he tilts his head. “Why’s Duncan on there?”

Your attention moves to the scribbled title. Johnny continues as you read, your stomach sinking.

Duncan Ballard. Employee of Warren Electrical. No involvement.

You wave a hand. “He has nothing to do with this case. That was back when I was looking into the money laundering—”

“They’re cousins.”

Your body twists, face confused. “What…?”

Johnny blinks, glancing at you and then back to the paper, he vaguely gestures to the two names. “Duncan and Kurt—they’re cousins. Met him at one of the department cookouts. Strange bloke, but I never thought much about it. Just thought he liked the profession a bit because Kurt was getting involved.”

You stare at him, a million thoughts dashing from behind your eyes. “Duncan was the man I interviewed about the Warren Electrical case. He was cleared by the police,” you stutter, looking to the side. “He was the only employee of the company that didn’t confess or implicate someone else. There was no evidence to…”

You trail off before your spine tightens. Your body pushes itself out of Johnny’s hold, rushing to his computer and opening it like a bat out of hell.

“Give me the name of one of the fire victims.”

The Scot watches after, hurriedly forcing out, “Mike Lane.”

An article pops up—one that you hadn’t written but that another journalist had. Warren Electrical Employee Exposes All.

“Another,” you breathe, eyes stuck on the screen.

“Kit Cannon.”

Warren Electrical Employee—

“Johnny, one more.”

“Hadden Taylor.”

Warren Electrical Employee—

Your throat closes for a moment before you force out in the middle of Soap easing out another name, still not sure where you’re going with this. “He’s trying to kill off anyone who snitched.”

Johnny pauses, coming over to look as he thinks—as he looks over the articles you show him with a grim face, he tilts his head.

“Even then, why were you a target? All you did was interview him. And why now?”

“He knows I have all of the resources,” you begin. “If anyone can catch him, it would be me—I interviewed him when he was in temporary custody. It would have seemed like he didn’t have a choice unless he wanted to keep his appearance of innocence.”

Your mind struggles through the potential answers. “But you’re right—why now? Is it because of the trial coming up? And how does this connect with Kurt?”

“He smelled like Gasoline when he walked past me,” Johnny adds, rubbing at his chin; itching at his scar. He spares you a look, mulling over the words that he’d heard in the pantry. “...I think he’s trying to cover his cousin’s crimes with his own. Make it seem like they’re all a part of one damn scheme.”

“He’s the one going for the abandoned buildings,” you agree, nodding a few times, looking over into Johnny’s eyes. “Kurt Matthews and Duncan Ballard. Okay. We have our leads.”

Before the Scot can speak on it, you’re rushing past, grabbing clothes from the floor and shoving them on. His face moves in, confusion overtaking his building shock.

“What are you doing?” You shove into your pants, not sparing a look before you button them.

“Get dressed, we’re going out.”

Johnny’s left in the middle of the room, naked, watching after you with a slack-jawed expression of disbelief.

“...What?”

—

You hang up your phone with one of the many people you know in the city, dropping it to your side as you and the fireman stand in front of your car. You have an address for Kurt’s home—not one for Duncan, but that can happen later. With what Johnny had said not moments before, Matthews was expressing hesitation. Go for the weaker link first.

The streets are lit up. It’s still night out but the long hours are beginning to thin into morning; it can’t be later than three AM. Vehicles rush past, and, occasionally, people walk to wherever they are off to. The city never sleeps, just as you don’t.

“Woah,” Johnny grabs onto you before your hand can latch onto the driver’s seat door. He waves his other hand and stares at you heavily. “We can’t just go into this with our dicks in our hands, Bonnie.”

“Thankfully, I don’t have one of those,” you huff. “That’s why I keep you around.”

“That isn’t,” Johnny sighs aggressively, shaking his head. “I’ll not have you in danger. We need to pass this along the chain.”

“The chain,” you grumble, “hates me. We’re the best bet right now.” Raising a brow you point a finger under his nose. “If I recall, you asked to be involved.”

Johnny frowns heavily, looking unimpressed until he takes a deep breath. He rasps out, “You’re lucky you’re damn near a goddess—”

His phone goes off in his pocket, and not a second later, he’s answering as you mess with your satchel. Taking out a piece of paper, you try not to show how much his little comment made you want to float into the air, giddy, nearly, as you write down Kurt’s address sloppily.

“MacTavish,” Johnny grunts out, turning slightly away.

You open your car door, but a hand moves out and keeps it closed enough to a point where you can’t slip inside, you pout and Johnny raises a brow as he listens. Your eyes notice how his jaw clenches, and he lets off an aggressive sigh like a boar when he registers the words being said from over the line.

Your heart drops when you watch his shoulders sag, hips moving as they situate themselves.

“Right. I’ll be over.” Cobalt eyes snap to yours when the call ends, deathly serious. “One of the boys had to run out tonight during his twenty-four-hour—family emergency. I was on call for him.”

You open your mouth to speak.

“No,” Johnny points at you, digging out his own keys from his pants as he backs up. He shakes his head. “No—you’re not going alone. Don’t even ask it, Pencils.”

Your loud scoff echoes. “I didn’t even mention it!”

“You fucking thought it,” he grunts, glaring. “Get your pretty arse back inside the apartment and we do this together tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes,” you wave a hand, stepping back onto the sidewalk as the Scot moves to his vehicle only two cars down, sarcastically monologuing. “All naked and waiting to be ravished by your brutish body. Whatever will I do without you, my brave firefighter?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Soap mutters to himself, and just as he unlocks his car and opens the door, you’re there at his side. A light kiss is pressed into his flesh, and he freezes.

“Be safe,” you mutter, and he melts—tension loosening. He smirks and glances over, carefully grabbing your face before connecting his lips to yours with a low groan.

“Maybe you should be naked and waiting for me—”

“Go!”

Johnny chuckles against your lips. “Keep your head on for me, Pencils. I’ll be back soon, and we can find the fucker that did this, eh?”

As he gets into his car and drives away, you watch after him and bite at your lips. And then as he turns the street corner, you jog over to your car and slip inside.

—

The home was run down.

It wasn’t a place where you would want to raise a family, and neither was the neighborhood. In fact, barely anyone seemed to live on this street, and even if there were entire rows of houses, there weren’t even any lights on—nothing illuminated the streets except the lamps, and you were parked under one with your satchel in your lap.

Experience didn’t mean you never get nervous.

You feel the clamminess of your palms as you flex them, replaying Johnny’s words in your head over and over. You knew the house was here, so, you could always just…come back later. There was no harm in it.

Yet, your eyes narrow, and your rage builds.

This fucker was related to the man that burned down your apartment building—was potentially covering for him so you wouldn’t break the case on Duncan killing off the snitches for Warren Electrical’s schemes. But all because of an interview with him? All you’d done was sit down with the guy; why did he feel the need to track you down? Breaking into someone's house and lighting it up with matches was personal—incredibly personal.

Duncan had given you a warning to keep away, and you hated warnings with a fiery passion. If anything, it had just set you on his ass more.

“Okay,” you huff, and reach inside of your satchel, flicking on the recorder you stuffed inside and stating your name, age, and important information.

And then you open the car door and exit.

Speed walking to the door, you look down the dark streets and hunch into yourself, the calls of crows and the wind moving the overgrown grass. Cracked concrete hits the ground as you kick pieces away, and at the two steps leading to the front door, you think that perhaps this might be a bad idea.

Bad ideas are what make good articles.

You hum, face innocent. “Johnny’s gonna fucking kill me.”

Knuckles raising, you send three firm knocks into the paint-speckled wood, and wait. And wait.

And wait.

Your face tightens, your legs shifting minutely as the seconds draw long. A part of you is somewhat relieved until you hear a small creak just when you’re about to walk away. You freeze, and your eyes move slowly to the glass of the side window in a gradual glance.

Your eyes lock onto a face staring back.

Gasping, your foot takes a rapid step backward, but before you can rush away, Kurt rips open the door and pleads in a tiny voice as he grabs your arm. You flinch, raising up a heavy fist. But his words stop you from sending it forward.

“No! No, you can’t be here!” Your eyes blink rapidly, stuttering through your initial panic.

“What?”

“Leave!” Kurt snaps, eyes wild. “While he’s still asleep—he can’t see you here or he’ll—” There’s a splash of liquid and you shout. Kurt lets go of you quickly as he looks down at himself as his clothes get flooded from behind.

The sharp smell hits you before your ears twitch to the sound of a lighting match.

Kurt screams, snapping around as you fall backward off the steps, slamming into the ground with a panicked flinching in your lungs. A large shadow stands in the doorway. “I didn’t say anything—I didn’t—!”

Kurt Matthews goes up in flames, and in the fire and the rabid screams of sizzling flesh, you’re left shouting in pure fear. Duncan’s familiar face was illuminated by an orange and red inferno and he watches you blankly with a box of matches in his right hand.

You run off so fast, your heels get kicked off in a flurry of a chase.

TAGS:

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wonderlandwalker · 9 months

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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

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f1byjessie · 8 months

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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part five.

You’ve never actually been to Monaco. It was one of the few Grand Prix you’d had to miss. Logan’s retelling of how it was had been slightly skewed by disappointment and frustration at his less-than-stellar results that weekend, but his descriptions of everything had still painted a picture of lavishness and excitement in your mind, and you’d been dreaming ever since for the chance to experience it yourself.

You’re here now, and even just the view from the plane had lived up to the hype. On the ground, it’s enough to leave you breathless. The deep blue water of the Riviera glitters with the golden glow of the afternoon sun, the mountains stand tall off in the distance, and the grand opulence of the city makes you feel like you’ve stepped foot into a whole new world.

You’re not unfamiliar with the lifestyle of riches and luxury, but Monaco is on another level entirely.

Lando, the reason you’re here in the first place, appears beside you. On the ride back to his place from the airport, he’d caught you marveling at the marina and had pulled off onto the side of the road to let you get out and take a longer look. The boats look like miniature cruise ships, sleek and elegant where they rest in the water, swaying gently with waves. It reminds you, vaguely, of back home.

“Ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his keys.

You spare the marina one last glance, then nod and turn on your foot with the knowledge that you’ll be here for a week longer still and will have plenty of time later to take in the view as much as you want.

Lando’s house, when you arrive, is just as expensive looking as the rest of Monte Carlo.

The exterior is expertly landscaped and maintained, with hedges perfectly trimmed and flowers flawlessly pruned. It’s slightly lacking in regards to the personality you imagined Lando having. His car is personalized and his wardrobe is a look into who he is, but the outside of his house looks… normal, for lack of a better term. It’s beautiful, nonetheless, but it’s simple all the same.

When he opens the door, you take it all back. The interior screams Lando Norris. It’s extravagant in a way that mirrors what you know of his personality, but it’s comfortable. You’ve been to homes that look more like show houses, where the furniture seemingly exists to be viewed but not used, and all the decorations are vague and impersonal enough to fill blank space and do little else. This is the opposite.

There’s a blanket folded haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and mismatched pillows. On the coffee table is a half-empty bottle of water, a book with a scrap piece of paper hanging out from the middle, and an opened pack of batteries. There are pictures on the walls in mismatched frames— friends and family and achievements from throughout Lando’s career that tell a story of his successes and proudest moments.

It looks like a real home. When you tell him, he laughs.

“With how little time I actually get to spend here, you’d think it’d be the opposite,” he comments.

He helps you bring your bags up to a guest room and then gives you a tour of the rest of the house. Letting you ask questions and answering them sincerely.

When you’re back in your room, unpacking your clothes, it occurs to you just how crazy all of this is. You know Lando, but you haven’t known him for very long. Your friendship has only developed over comments on social media, texts, and the occasional phone call over a few weeks. But you’re here, across the ocean in a country you’ve never been to before, spending a week in his house just because he asked you here and offered to help you with your love life dilemma.

Your life is beginning to feel more and more like a movie, and all you can do is hope it has a happy ending.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 31,871 others

yourusername a pretty girl with a pretty car in a pretty city

view all 3,832 comments

logansargeant think you might need to get your eyes checked bc all i see is a pretty car sooo

↳ yourusername you have six days. run. hide. i don’t care. but enjoy your time while it lasts

↳ logansargeant i’m telling mom

↳ yourusername she can’t save you now.

user STUNNING STUNNING AND STUNNING 😍😍😍

user all three things i don’t have

user WE NEVER GOT Y/N IN MONACO DURING THE SEASON BUT I AM LIVING FOR IT NOW

landonorris *prettiest

↳ yourusername you’re only saying that cuz it’s your car

↳ user yea we definitely missed smth cuz wTF IS THIS 👀

user lando up in here stealing oscar’s girl

user OSCAR COME GET YOUR GIRL

user is she in monaco??? with lando??? 👀👀

user mclaren boys fighting over the same chick was not on my bingo card

user i need these men to make up their damn minds like bffr first oscar and now lando??? bros get it together pls 😮‍💨😮‍💨

user i think we should stop speculating about the relationships between real ppl bc they’re adults and can do what they want, plus they could just be friends and ppl saying they’re together could make things awkward for them

↳ user nah they’re totally together

“The comments are going crazy,” you tell Lando, staring down at your phone and scrolling the long chain of comments beneath your most recent post.

Some are supportive— people who knew you before your brother got involved with Formula 1 and don’t care about the drama, or they’re other models you’ve become tentative acquaintances with after years of working in the industry. Some are speculative, wanting to know if you’re with Lando, what happened between you and Oscar, theorizing about fights, messy breakups, and revenge rebounds. Some, however, are just mean, calling you a slut for leading on two guys at the same time, or a bitch for ruining their imaginary chances with their favorite driver.

You wouldn’t claim that you’re used to this type of negative attention, but you’re not unused to it either. So much of your job requires a social media presence and with your life in the limelight as a byproduct of both Logan and Dalton’s own very successful careers, you’re no stranger to internet trolls and people who are vicious just because they can be.

That doesn’t make some of the comments hurt any less.

“None of them matter,” Lando answers from beside you, his eyes focused on the road. “It’s just people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He recites it like it’s something he’s had to say hundreds of times before, and it occurs to you that he probably has, to himself if not anyone else in his line of work.

You’re sat once again in the passenger seat of his car as he drives you back to his place. The streets of Monte Carlo at night are dazzling and even more beautiful than in the day with twinkling lights and a raging nightlife scene, but you’re distracted still by your phone, checking and rechecking to see if there’s any hint of Oscar in your notifications.

There isn’t.

It feels like a dismal ending to what had truly been such a lovely night.

You’re in a gorgeous dress, in a gorgeous car, in a gorgeous city, with a man who’s fun and relaxing to be around, who doesn’t make you feel like a side piece or arm candy, and who is genuinely a friend to you. You went to an amazing restaurant and ate some of the best food in your life with some of the best company, got slightly tipsy off of wine you didn’t have to pretend to enjoy for once, and it’s only the beginning of your time here in Monaco.

But rather than enjoy what you have here in the present, all you can think about is the one thing that would make it that much better— Oscar.

“Maybe I should just give up,” you mutter, finally turning your eyes away from the screen. “He probably kissed me, realized he wasn’t interested, and the reason he hasn’t brought it up is because it was all just a big mistake that he wants to forget.”

Lando makes a sound that you’re not quite sober enough to place. “I think the only way you could know that is if you talked to him.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “that’s not likely to happen any time soon.”

He makes another sound, but you’re too disappointed to really pay it much mind, and by the time he’s pulling into the garage you’ve forgotten all about it.

He helps you out, ever the gentleman as you’ve learned tonight, and then you’re following him to the door, trying not to let your bad mood ruin things too much. You’re still incredibly grateful and appreciative to him for helping you so much despite not having known you very well when it all began.

“Seriously, though, Lando.” You speak up suddenly, just as he’s about to open the door. “Thank you for doing all this for me. Even if nothing comes of it, I’ve already had a lot of fun and you’re a good friend.”

All he does is offer you a smile over his shoulder, before pushing the door open.

When you step in through the doorway after him, you’re momentarily confused by the luggage waiting in the entryway. For a split second, you think you must have left some of yours down here, but then you look a bit closer and realize that it definitely isn’t yours.

There's movement from your peripherals as someone in the living room stands from the couch and crosses the distance to the entryway's threshold.

“You’re back earlier than I thought, Lando—” you snap your head up in surprise just as the voice cuts off.

You stare at him in shock. “Oscar…”

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal

━━ a/n: tada! i have the rest of this fic entirely planned out from here and i am so excited to get to the juicy parts finally! hope you all enjoy!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #social media au #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #logan sargeant #alex albon #lando norris

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straylightdream · 10 months

Text

rose-colored boy

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x reader

↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au, romance, angst, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sex, anxiety, and mentions of depression, crying and lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: I’m reworking a story I posted in 2020 here. This story is a one shot right now, but if there is enough interest I might write a part two.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲

The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is an all too familiar feeling that you’re a disappointment. Inhaling a deep breath you're listening to your father gush about your brother and his new wife. Your younger brother sports a proud smile listening to your father. This family dinner was exactly like all the other ones you have shared.

“Y/N have you considered going back to school?” Your father asks, pointing his attention back at you.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath attempting not to roll your eyes at your father. He’s aware that you don’t have time to go back to school. He chooses to ignore the fact that your grandmother's condition is getting worse and your mother needs all the help she can get. Your father tends to live in his own world ignoring the problems you and your mother and his ex wife face. He stopped caring long before he left your mother, so it’s not like this is anything new.

Looking at your brother you give him a pleading look. You wished he would recognize your silent begging for help.

“I would love too, but mom needs my help with grandma,” you try your hardest to keep your tone even. You don’t need your father or your stepmother Hae-Won commenting about your bitchy attitude.

“Your mother needs to put her in a home and move on,” your father’s cold tone stings. He’s always been a more distant man, but at one point he did actually love your mother and her family.

“Mom needs Y/N,” your brother finally speaks up defending you.

“Darling, listen to your son,” Hae-Won rested her hand on your father's arms. Your stepmother tends to be the voice of reason when it comes to your father. Hae-Won is a kind woman and she always attempts to treat you with kindness.

Dinner continues with a blur. Your father has switched his attention back to your brother and his career. Standing up, walking outside desperately needing fresh air and escape from constant judgment. Your brother walks outside with his car keys in his hand.

“Sorry that was so rough,” he finally speaks.

Shoving your hands in your jeans pockets you try to act like you aren’t fazed by their constant judgment.

“Joshua, that was like every single dinner we have,” looking down at your feet you sigh.

“YN, I’m sorry I’m not there for mom,” he reaches his hand out resting it on your shoulder.

“You’re married now, Rosie needs you.”

Your brother being married had nothing to do with him not helping mom. The moment Joshua went to university he found his escape from the life you were now trapped in. If it wasn’t for you your mother would lose her mind. Your grandmother's Alzheimer's started getting bad while you were in high school, and proceeded to get worse while you were in your first year of university. Your mother’s mental breakdown during the summer after your first year pushed you to drop out to help out at home.

“Did you need a ride home?” your brother asks.

Silently you nod.

The ride was filled with awkward conversation. You and your brother used to be close. When he was at home you used to be best friends. He quickly found a life away from you and your mother. You can’t blame him though. If you were given the chance to run away from all this you in a heartbeat. You dreamed of a life away from yours. You want a life when you don't struggle to get by. You want a life that doesn't feel completely trapped. You desperately want to go back to school and get your degree, but it’s just not an option.

Pulling into the drive of your family home Joshua puts the car in park, but doesn’t turn it off. You want to ask if he’s gonna go inside to see mom, but you know the answer.

“You should come over to have dinner with Rosie and I.” He’s always trying to get you to be closer with his wife.

“Okay,” you say, getting out of the car. Glancing back at your brother while shutting the door you see him wearing a sad smile. You wished things between you and your brother weren’t so strained.

Walking inside you find your mother sitting in the living room talking to your grandmother.

“Hi,” you stop and wave at them.

“Are you my granddaughter?” Your grandmother asks, looking at you.

Your stomach drops and you put on your best fake smile you can possibly muster and nod your head. It never gets any easier. The feeling of her not remembering you feels like a dagger slowly being pushed into your chest. You think back constantly to the days where your grandmother was your favorite person. Back to the days when your parents would fight and your grandmother would come and pick you up and take you out to get ice cream. All the sweet memories you used to share have slowly started drifting away. You can’t help but feel mad that you’re watching one of the people you love most in the world drift away. You’re not nearly as patient with her as you’ve been in the past. You curse yourself each time you give the slightest attitude answering the same question for the hundredth time. It’s hard to explain the way you feel. In the earlier stages when you first dropped out of school you used to sit for hours with your mother keeping her company as she watched her mother, but as the more time has passed its grown more difficult to sit there. These days your grandmother could barely maintain a conversation, and most of her questions were about sore subjects. She often asks your mother where her husband is. Or asked if you were married. Your dating life in itself was a touchy subject. You had zero desire to bring someone into your life. You were trapped enough that nobody deserved to be dragged into this life.

“How was dinner?” Your mother asked, standing up.

“Fine,” you lied, turning on your heels and heading down the hallway towards your room.

Shutting the door press your back against the door and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone to see a text from Felix. It simply read “come over to mine and Jisung’s for drinks at eight.”

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you saw it was already eight thirty. You already had a rough night. You should probably take a hot shower and call it a night. Holding your phone up you stared at his text for a solid moment before you simply responded, “be there soon.”

Opening your door walking back into the living room you find your grandma sitting alone. Walking into the small kitchen you find your mom pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Did you need my help tonight?” You prayed she would say no. You needed a night with your friends especially after your dinner with your dad.

“Where are you going?”

“Felix invited me over for drinks,” you give her a small smile.

“I’m assuming your father was in one of his moods,” she brings the red wine up her lips and takes a big gulp.

“I’m nothing more than disappointment, especially when I’m next to the shining star known as Joshua,” you sound bitter, but you can’t help it. You would be lying to yourself if you said you aren’t jealous of your younger brother.

“You’re not a disappointment,” your mother states.

“Dad thinks I am,” you don’t want to talk about it anymore. This subject just makes you feel even worse.

“Your father's opinion doesn’t matter.” You wish that was true, but for some reason your father’s opinion felt like everything to you. You’ve lived your whole life wanting nothing more than your father's approval.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Stepping outside you're greeted by the cold autumn air. You choose to walk to the boys place. It’s only a ten minute walk, and you know the walk will give you time to clear your head. You need this time to push away the feeling of disappointment and sadness.

Walking up to the door you knock and step back. It takes all of thirty seconds before Jisung opens the door and pulls you inside. Looking around. In the apartment you see a small group of friends. It’s Felix, Jisung and their six guy friends and three girls. You recognize the blonde girl Soomin as the girl Seungmin has been trying to hook up with.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Jisung says.

Nodding you walk into the kitchen. In the small white kitchen you find Chan talking to Felix. Felix wastes no time reaching forward pulling you into a hug.

Pulling away, Felix holds your shoulders and looks at you with his eyebrows knit together. “Why are you so tense?”

“I had dinner with my father and Joshua.”

“Is your father still acting the same?” Felix is one of the few people who know your whole situation with your family. Not even Jisung, who you’re just as close to, knows about your whole family situation.

“Yeah,” you sigh, glancing over at Chan who looks at you like he’s studying you.

“Did you want something to drink?” Chan asked.

Felix removes his hands from you. He smiles over at Chan and says, “make the girl something strong she really needs it.”

Felix walks out of the room leaving you alone with Chan. Things with Chan have always been easy. He’s someone who is kind and easy to make conversation with. You’ve grown closer to him over the last couple months. He’s an old high school friend of Felix. Out of all your friends he seems to by far have his life the most together. He works at a bank in a high up position and even has his own apartment. You’ve watched enough women at bars attempt to capture his attention, but the thing about Chan is he doesn’t seem to want theirs. He’s always seemed so driven by work you’ve never even heard of him dating anyone.

Handing you a red cup he captures your attention, “it’s pretty strong.”

“Is everything okay?”

You take a sip of the strong drink and look up at him with hooded eyes. Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t even sure how to respond to that question. Technically everything is okay, nothing has changed. You feel the exact same way you’ve always felt. You’re just doing a terrible job at hiding it. Normally you pride yourself on trying to hide away all your problems that seem to be eating away at you.

“Rough day,” you sigh.

He leans back against the counter and looks at you. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his body. Chan is very handsome and you aren’t really sure why some girl hasn’t been able to lock him down. He stands there oh so casually dressed jeans and button up shirt.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know Felix is the only one you fully let in, but I like to think we’re friends too. If you need someone to vent to, I'm here to listen.”

“I don’t need to burden someone else with all my problems.”

Chan is one of the kindest and most caring people that you’ve ever met. He’s always been like the father figure of your group of friends. You’ve seen your friends pull him aside to talk to him when they’re having problems. He’s being honest with you when he tells you he’s there to listen to you. He won't judge you for whatever you’re going through.

“You know you aren’t a burden to anyone right? You’re friends with me and all the boys. We’re all here to support you. We just want to help.”

You wished it was that easy that you could just talk about your problems and it would help them go away. You could scream from the rooftop that you’re tired of feeling like a disappointment, but it wouldn’t make the feeling go away. You could scream that you’re tired of being trapped in a life that you didn’t choose, but at the

end of the day you’ll still have to go home. Your mother is still in desperate need of your help. You couldn’t just walk away from your family, like your brother did. You know your brother didn’t leave to hurt you, but it didn’t dull the pain anymore.

“I’m okay Chan. Thank you for your offer though.”

“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says.

You aren’t sure why he wants you to go outside with him, but nod your head and follow him. He slides the glass door open that’s connected to the kitchen. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. The chilly night air feels nice against your skin as you take a seat in one of the two chairs that are sitting in front of a glass table. Chan sits next to you, placing his cup on the table. You look at the cup curious to know what he’s drinking. It’s rare that you ever see him drink. He’s the one who is always the designated driver or the one in charge of looking after your friends who tend to get a little too rambunctious when they drink.

“What are you drinking?” You ask.

“Water,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You can’t help but shake your head. It was rare you ever saw him eat or drink something that isn’t healthy.

“Did you have work today?” You attempt to make small talk with him to avoid talking about things that are too personal.

“Yeah I worked until five.”

Chan was one of the higher ups at a bank in the city. He tended to wear a suit for a living and work nine to five. He probably had his life the most together out of all your friends he followed the path he always planned on following. Your friends all had their lives together, but they all still liked to party and let loose. Sure Minho and Hyunjin were making good money working as dancers but their job wasn’t always super steady. Felix and Jeongin both worked for a tech company that just started up. Seungmin is a teacher. Jisung also worked as a publisher, and Changbin was working as sound technician at a record label. Literally all your friends have their lives more together than you. You dropped out of college to help at home, and you work a retail job barely getting by.

“Did you work today?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no I had to ask for the day off to see my dad.” You tense up just mentioning your dad. You don’t mean to, it’s just a force of habit.

“You didn’t want to come over tonight did you?” He asks as he brings his cup up to his lips. He takes a drink and watches you.

You weren’t sure if you should answer him honestly. Part of you wanted to stay home and take a shower and just attempt to push away the negative thoughts that seem to be eating away at you. You only came over to escape the trapped feeling of being at home.

“I need to get out of my house,” a heavy sigh passes your lips.

“Are you okay?” He reaches over and rests his warm hand on top of yours. There’s something comforting about his touch.

An almost sarcastic laugh passes your lips, “my grandma didn’t know who I was when I came home today.”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at you. He purses his lips together as he stares at you attempting to figure out what he should say to you. He knows that he can’t say sorry to hear that. He knows nobody fully understands what you’re going through. He only knows about your grandma because Felix told him one day. Felix was worried about you because he hadn’t heard from you in two days. In a panic Felix let him know about the stress you were under at home. Felix swore him to secrecy telling him that you couldn’t know that he knows. That you didn’t want everyone knowing about your problems.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m really sorry you have to go through that. That must be heartbreaking to experience,” his hand remains on yours as his dark eyes stay on you.

Closing your eyes you push back your tears that are trying so hard to fall. You’ve had a rough day and you don’t want to cry, but the overwhelming weight of the world seems to be resting on your shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” you shake your head.

“Well my offer still stands if you ever need to talk about it. I'm here for you. You also know that Felix and Jisung would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Felix constantly told you that he was there for you. You couldn’t even count the number of times Felix came over to your house and just laid in bed with you listening to you cry about your problems. Felix is your rock. He’s been there through hell and back holding your hand. Jisung would also be there for you if you would fully let him in. He knows details of your problems, but he’s not the one you call when you’re crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You need to know if he’s doing this just because he is pitying you.

“Because you’re a good person, and you don’t need to feel alone,” his thumb brushes across your skin in a calming motion.

“I don’t feel alone. I have Felix,” it was a lie. You felt lonely all the time. You couldn’t seem to fill the empty hole in your chest.

“You can have more people than just Felix that care about you. All seven of those guys in the house care about you. I even care about you. I can see that you’re hurting, and you can put on a fake smile and try to act happy in front of all of us, but you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be sad, and if someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to turn off those emotions,” his voice is so calming as he speaks to you. He’s saying things to you that you’ve been needing to hear for a long time. Some of the things he’s saying Felix has said to you as well, but for some reason they just feel different coming from Chan.

“I don’t want to be fake happy anymore.” You wanted nothing more in the world to feel real happiness. You wanted that feeling of being a disappointment to fade away.

“Let more people in then.”

The air between you feels thick as you stare at each other. There’s something between you and you can’t seem to put your finger on it.

“What happens if I let you in?” You take a deep breath keeping your eyes locked on him.

“Then I’ll be there for you. I can be there for you just like Felix.”

“You’ll get tired of hearing about my problems.” You knew Felix was probably tired of listening to you cry.

“Believe me I won’t.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, you need to step away from this. This all feels too overwhelming. Chan removes his hand from the top of yours, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I need some water,” you quickly stand up.

He walks over and opens the sliding door holding it open for you. You walk inside heading straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He stands in the kitchen watching you.

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” he walks closer to you.

“I had a weird day. This isn’t because of you,” you don’t want him to know that you were freaking over letting your walls down around him.

You stand there alone for a long moment. Seungmin walks in letting his presence be known singing a random song loudly. Your eyes snap over to your loud friend hoping he will relieve some of the tension that has formed between you and Chan.

Seungmin’s eyes bounce between the two of you, stopping right by both of you. “YN you’re so tense when was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin speaks, putting his hand on your shoulders and shaking you. Seungmin has never been the best at using the filter between his brain and his mouth. Your cheek burn with embarrassment as your eyes bounce between Seungmin and Chan. Chan is wearing an apologetic look while Seungmin looks all too proud that he’s embarrassed you.

“Seungmin you don’t get to ask me that,” you practically shout, feeling utterly embarrassed. You didn’t want to discuss your sex life with Seungmin of all people. He’s got by far the biggest mouth out of all your friends.

“It’s been awhile if you won’t answer,” he barks out a laugh and looks toward Chan who is blushing. “Chan you also look super tense. When was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin has realized that he can make both of you feel incredibly awkward with zero effort. One of Seungmin 's favorite pastimes is embarrassing his friends.

“Seungmin, knock it off,” Chan responded, completely deadpan.

“Maybe you two should have sex and you can both relax for once,” Seungmin smiles, stepping away from you.

“Well that was beyond awkward,” you respond.

“I mean maybe you two should bang. Maybe both of you could actually have fun for once,” was the last thing he said before walking out of the kitchen.

You’re left standing there with just Chan who seems to be having an issue with making eye contact with you. Pushing your lips together you look at him attempting to even figure out what exactly you should say. Seungmin wasn’t wrong about you probably need to have sex. You’d been so stressed you couldn’t even remember the last time you were intimate with someone. Hell the last time you kissed someone was Felix during a drunken game of truth or dare on his birthday. During that drunken mess of a night you were dared to either kiss him or Seungmin and Felix was the safe bet being your best friend.

Chan nervously scratches his neck and looks up at you finally.

“I take it’s been a while for you too?” He finally speaks.

Talking about sex has always made you feel slightly awkward. You’ve never been a person who would openly share details of your sex life.

“Yeah probably too long,” sighing as you lean against the counter across from Chan.

“If it makes you feel any better I’m in the same boat. It’s been a while.”

You aren’t sure what possessive you to say it but without thinking you say, “maybe Seungmin right, maybe I do need to have sex. I’ve been so stressed with everything.”

Chan cocks his eyebrow and stares at you looking caught off guard. He audibly swallows, not expecting you to agree with his younger friend. In the whole time he’s known you, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard you mention anything to do with sex. You had this air of innocence to you. He was well aware you weren’t a virgin, he’s heard you talk about your ex who strung you along off and on for six years. There was just something so innocent about you that the topic of sex made you blush and feel awkward.

“Who would you sleep with?” he’s not sure why he asks. He knows damn well it’s none of his business. He knows no matter who you say he’s not going to like the answer. He doesn’t like the idea of you sleeping with anyone.

Shrugging your shoulder you realize you don’t exactly have men lining up the block to have sex with you. You could try those dating apps people use to hook up, or maybe a friend. You trusted all the boys but you knew certain ones would complicate your life. Felix specifically was off limits, he’s your best friend and you couldn’t do anything to ruin that. Changbin crosses your mind for a small moment. He’s extremely handsome and charming and has even flirted with you before.

“I don’t know,” you finally respond.

As Chan watches you can tell you seem to have a million things going through your mind. He wants to offer up his services but he’s not exactly sure how you would take his offer. He couldn’t lie to himself, he's always been attracted to you, and he’s enjoyed getting to know you. He also appreciates that you seem to be letting your walls down around him.

“If I ask you something can you promise not to slap me?”

You nod not exactly sure what he could possibly ask you.

“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” His heart races as he stares at you trying his hardest to judge your reaction.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. You aren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. Bang Chan is one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the body of a Greek god, and he just asked if you would be willing to have sex with him. You blink a handful of times attempting to process his question.

“You want to have sex with me?” you blurt out.

He nods and gives you an innocent smile, “yeah.”

“Oh,” you stammer over that simple word. Your mind is still trying to process that Chan actually wants you.

He pushes himself off the counter and looks at you with a guilt ridden face, “you can totally say no. I’m sorry for making this weird.”

He looks cute and completely flustered. Reaching you rest your hand on his arm, “if you’re sure you want to. I would like to relieve some stress with you.”

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and stared at you, completely shocked that you agreed. He didn’t actually have a plan of action if you agreed. He thought for sure you were going to shut him down without even thinking twice.

“Did you want to do it tonight?” You felt so weird asking him if he wanted to leave to have sex. This whole situation was completely uncharted for you.

He nods and gives you an awkward smile, “yeah we can go to my place if you want.”

“Can we please head out now?” You want to leave as soon as you can. You know you should stay and talk to Felix some more, but he seems to be giving you space to talk to Chan.

“Yeah I can drive us.”

“Let me say goodbye to Felix.”

You walk off to the living room where you find your best friend talking to Jeongin. You tap his shoulder and he turns to face you.

“Chan is gonna take me home.” You decide to spare the details that you’re leaving with him to have sex. You know out of all your friends Felix won’t judge you, but he might be concerned about your feelings.

Leaning forward he pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips to the top of your head before whispering that he’ll see you tomorrow.

You wave goodbye to the rest of the group before meeting Chan at the door. He holds the door open and as soon as it shuts behind him he ever so slowly reaches down, taking your hand in his. A spark goes across your skin as he holds your hand tight. He leads you down to the parking garage below the building and holds your door open as you slide inside. He gets in and starts the car. He turns the radio on to give you some background noise.

You drive in silent with nothing but the hum of the radio for five minutes before you break the silence between you.

You clear your throat catching his attention. He glances over at you and gives you a soft smile.

“So, I’ve never done anything like this. Like I’ve had sex outside of a relationship, but never with a friend,” you’re rambling but you really can’t help it.

“I haven’t either,” he reaches over resting his hand on your thigh.

“So we’re both nervous?” You look over at him trying to read his expression.

“Yeah I’m nervous too.” It’s reassuring to know he feels the same way you do.

Pulling into the parking garage. He shuts the car off and gives you a smile before getting out of the car. You take a deep breath before unbuckling your seatbelt. Hoping out of his car you find home waiting for you with your hand out. You lace your fingers with his without giving it a second thought.

Chan felt like a nervous teenager as he held your hand. This whole situation was something he’s never done before. He has a million thoughts going through his mind as he holds your hand leading you towards his apartment. He has one mission tonight, and that’s to make you forget your problems for a little while. He wants to make you feel good and to relieve all the stress that’s built up.

Entering his apartment he releases your hand as he gives you a minute to look around and take in your surroundings. You’ve only been to his place twice and both times you were with Felix and you weren’t there very long. His apartment is pretty large and has a minimalist aesthetic to it. You’ve heard Chan talk about how much he hates decorating. Stopping in his living room in front of his black leather couch. Chan follows you into the living room. Staring at you, he takes a deep breath. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never agreed to just have casual sex with a friend. You fidget with the bottom of your sweater. You’re not sure who is supposed to make the first move. How exactly was this supposed to work?

“We don’t have to do this,” he says awkwardly. He can’t tell how nervous you are.

“I want this. I haven’t had sex in too long and I feel like it will help relieve some stress.”

He steps closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s been pretty long for me too.”

“You know you have girls always trying to get with you right?” You try not to laugh thinking about all the girls who attempt to flirt with him. You’ve seen too many girls attempt to get his attention when you go out with your friends.

Shrugging he says, “I don’t feel like having sex with random girls.”

You can’t seem to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach that’s bubbling. Looking up at Chan you notice his cheeks are flushed slightly. He must be as nervous as you. This whole situation is so strange, never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be going over to Chan to have sex with him. The fact that Seungmin dumb comment about you needing to get laid led to you riding over to Chan apartment is crazy.

“How do we even start this?” you felt like an awkward teen about to lose your virginity.

“We could start by kissing,” he steps closer to you.

Nodding your head you agree that kissing would be a good place to start this. Maybe that would help calm your nerves.

He rests his hand on your cheek ever so gently and stares into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. A warm feeling spread through your body as your lips moved together. One of his hands stayed on your cheek while the other gripped your hip holding you close. The whole time your lips moved together you couldn’t help but overthink everything. You were enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you wondered if he was enjoying it too.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “stop over thinking everything.”

Your eyes snap open and you step back from him. You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure of what to even say.

“Stop overthinking everything. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I’m going to make it my mission to force you to relax tonight,” he leans in to press his lips to your jaw. He places a trail of gentle nips across your skin.

“Okay.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you relax against his touch. His hands run up and down your sides as your lips dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him close to you. Opening your mouth he slides his tongue against yours.

He pulls away wearing a smile. His hands reach for the end of your sweater. He pauses while he waits for your consent. You nod your head silently.

He removes all your clothes leaving you naked in front of him. You stand there watching as he removes his own clothes.

His body is something to be admired. He has probably the best abs you’ve ever seen. Without even thinking you lean forward and run your fingers across his tone stomach. He watches you intently. He wants this whole night to be about helping you find a release. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

Silently he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands run up your thighs. He moves your thighs so he’s sitting between your legs. His eyes are locked on your already wet core. He’s managed to get you worked up with just the idea of what is going to happen and by the heated kiss you shared.

He runs two fingers through your folds as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. You whimper in anticipation. His thumb brushes your clit for a moment before he moves his fingers to your entrance. He thrust his finger into your tight wall. His tongue laps at your clit as he pumps one finger inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he groans against your core. He dips another finger in you helping stretch you out. He curls his fingers inside you, touching just the right area. You tangle your fingers in his hair. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You’re so close to finding your release.

“Chh… Chan I’m so… close,” you’re a complete whimpering mess.

He picks up his pace knowing you’re so close. He doesn’t stop until you find your release. The warm wave washes over you. You cry out his name loudly. He pulls away sitting on his hunches looking up at you with a proud smile.

“That was amazing,” you say with your chest rising and falling quickly.

He stands up and leans forward to kiss you. You taste yourself on your lips and you can’t lie it turns you on. Your eyes travel down his body to see that he’s already extremely hard and you haven’t even touched him.

“Let me get a condom.”

He jogs off to his bedroom and comes back rolling the rubber down his hardened length. He stops in front of you and leans in for another kiss. You wished that all those months ago you would have dared to kiss him. You can’t believe you’ve gone this far in your life never knowing the feel of Chan’s lips against yours.

“Can you bend over the back of the couch?” He pulls away asking.

You nod and look over at the leather couch. You follow his lead and walk over to the couch. Bending you over the couch he kissed down your spine. His hand grip your hips tightly. You take a deep breath and look over at your shoulder to see his lust filled eyes staring at you.

“Are you ready?” He grinds his hips against yours slowly.

“Yeah.”

He slides his length between your folds before pushing into you extremely slowly. His hands never leave your hips as he pushes his way in. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You grip the back of the couch as a gasp passes your lips. He stills is giving you time to adjust.

His chest is rising and falling as he tries to remain calm. “You’re really tight,'' he says with baited breath.

It’s probably been too long since you had sex and you know you need to relax more. “Spread your legs a little,” he puts his foot next to one of yours and gently nudges it. You silently follow his command. One of his hands leaves your hips and he slowly drags it down your spine. His touch feels like electricity running through your veins.

“Sweetheart just relax,” his voice is low and calming.

Taking a deep breath you try your hardest to relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. You aren’t supposed to stress about the problems in your life while probably the most handsome man you’ll ever meet is literally inside you. You nod your head and rest your face against the cool leather sofa.

His hand slowly rubs your back helping you relax. “Did you want to stop? I’m not going to be upset if you want to walk now or at any time during this.”

Lifting your head you look over your shoulder with a shocked look on your face. “I want this. I’m trying to stop overthinking everything,” you explained.

“Can I move?”

“Yes please.”

He leans forward kissing your shoulder before he pulls his hips back. Be pushed back into you, setting a slow pace. With each thrust he fills you completely. You can’t help the low whimpers that pass your lips with each roll of his hips.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, and his low moans, and your soft whimpers. His hands are back to gripping your hips. Everytime he thrust into you, he pushed away the thoughts of the outside world. You try your hardest to get lost in his touch. His pace picks up slowly. His grip on you never falters. Your name has never sounded as beautiful as it does being moaned by him. Dropping your face into the couch you moan his name.

He leans over your body, having one of his hands at your core. His fingers quickly find your swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes it quickly as he’s helping you chase your release.

“Chan,” you whine.

Wet kisses are being placed across the back of your neck. You can’t hold your eyes open, the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightens, almost becoming too much to handle.

He snaps his hips into yours over and over again. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been pushed up against this couch, but you won’t complain. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Chan is. He seems to know exactly how your body ticks. His fingers don’t leave your clit as he whispers encouraging words into your ear.

“Sweetheart, you can go ahead and cum for me.”

You’ve never wanted to come so badly in your life. Pushing your hips up angling them just right Chan is hitting a new area that causes a loud gasp to pass your lips.

“Chan,” you whimper, reaching back for his hand. You need to hold on to him desperately as you’re so close to finding your release.

“I want to see you when you come, pretty,” he says, stalling in you.

Your eyes grow wide confused on why he’s stopped moving. He pulls out of you and reaches out for you. He picks you up and places you on the couch. Laying there on his couch you watch as he moves so he’s hovering over you. He settles between your legs and pushes into you.

“You’re so pretty. I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” his sweet words.

“Chan,” you whimper.

One hand grips his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting on yours. His pretty lips are parted and low moans pass his lips.

“Kiss me,” you say. You desperately want to feel his lips on yours. His lips crashed against your. The kiss is sloppy and lust filled but you can’t seem to get enough.

Your legs wrap around his waist holding him close. His thrust have slowed as your lips move together.

“Just let go,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

His command is all that it takes to push you over the edge. The warmth spreads throughout your body as your walls pull on him. You moan into his lips. Your body feels like a live wire. He rolls his hips into you over and over before finally finding his own release.

He stills with his chest rising and falling. He leans forward pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back holding him close as he lays on top of you for a moment. His body weight gives you a sense of comfort. Laying there with Chan in your arms this is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a long time.

He lifts himself up and looks down at you. He pushes away your hair that’s stuck to your face.

“Sorry if I was crushing you.”

A soft laugh passes your lips. He’s so sweet and even post sex he’s still so caring.

“You aren’t crushing me,” you reach up resting your hand on his strong jaw.

He pulls away from you and stands up. You can’t help but watch his naked body walk away to toss his used condom. He comes back to you not even seeming slightly embarrassed that he’s strutting around naked. That probably has to do with his beautiful body, and his amazing abs.

Sitting up you pull your legs into your chest feeling suddenly weird that you're just sitting on the couch completely naked. He sits down on the couch next to you and rests his hand on your knee. He smiles before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. It was the exact opposit of the last lust fueled kiss you shared.

“You’re so pretty,” he rested his nose against yours.

“Chan, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it,” you couldn’t believe that he was asking if you just enjoyed the best sex you’ve ever experienced.

You let out a little laugh and nod your head.

“Is it awkward if I ask you to stay the night? I don’t see this as a onel night stand type thing. I would like to spend more time with you.”

He’s a little nervous that you will say no. Chan wants to get to know you even more. He wants you to let your walls down around him. He also just wants your company.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” You couldn’t believe he was asking you to stay.

“Yeah of course I want you to stay.”

Neither of you bother to put any clothes on. Chan takes your hand and leads you off to his room. His bedroom is somewhere you’ve never seen before. The walls are a bright white and he has a queen size bed under a window that looks out onto the city. He pulls his curtains closed not seeming to care that he’s naked. You crawl onto his bed and pull the blankets back. He lays down next to you and wastes no time pulling you close to his body. Your head rests on his chest as he holds you close. In all your life you had only slept in a man's bed a handful of times. All your ex boyfriends and flames never seemed to hold you like Chan is though.

“Did that help relieve some of your stress?” he asked softly.

“Yeah it did.”

Just being around Chan seems to relax you. This is the first time in the longest time you feel at ease. You aren’t worried about everything going on. You know tomorrow will be a stressful day when your mom asks about where you were overnight, but right now you don’t have to worry about that.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“I told you I want to be here for you, and I’ll be here for you mentally and physically,” his hand rubs your side. “I have tomorrow off. Did you maybe want to get lunch together and hang out?”

You literally spent the whole time you were at Felix’s together and then left with him to have sex. Chan seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you can’t complain. It feels nice to finally be wanted.

“I’ll have to go home and change and check in with my mom, but yeah I’ll get lunch with you.”

A night spent in Chan’s arms is one of the best night's sleep you've gotten in a long time.

Bright morning light shining through the thin curtains woke you up. A yawn passes your lips as you stretch out your sore body. The bed feels cold next to you. You look over to see Chan isn’t in bed. A panicked feeling starts in your chest. Maybe this was a sign that he wanted you to leave. Hoping out of bed quickly you look around the room realizing you walked into his room naked. Looking on the dresser you see a pile of your clothes neatly folded. Chan must have gathered your clothes this morning. Walking towards the dresser you see the master bathroom door is shut with the light peaking out from the bottom. You aren’t sure if Chan is in there but you don’t want to find out. You quickly put your bra and underwear on. As you start pulling on your legging the bathroom door opens and Chan walks out a pair of boxer briefs while he runs a towel through his damp hair. The moment his eyes lock on you, you completely freeze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Why do you look like you’re running away?” He asks, tossing his towel in the hamper next to the door.

“I thought you would want me to leave,” you say awkwardly.

“Why would I want you to leave?” Chan doesn’t understand what he did or said that could possibly make you think he wanted you to leave.

“I don’t know.”

“I planned on us grabbing lunch. I actually wanted to spend more time with you.” He wasn’t lying to you yesterday when he said he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard by him actually wanting to spend time with you.

He steps towards you stopping right in front of you. He places his hand right under your chin lifting it so you’re looking into his dark eyes. He licks his bottom lip before saying, “you can relax around me. You don’t have to try to act happy. Let your walls down and try to trust me.” He so desperately wants for you to trust him like you do Felix.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure of what to say to him. Leaning down he presses his lips softly to your forehead.

“Did you maybe want some coffee before you run away from me?”

You nod your head silently.

Stepping away from you Chan reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. You take this time to pull back on your sweater so you aren’t standing around in your bra and a pair of leggings. He takes your hand ever so casually and leads you out into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile that he’s already made coffee.

Reaching into the cupboard he pulls out two coffee cups. He sits down on the counter in front of you. He walks over to the fridge pulling out a carton of cream. Handing it to you, you pour a little into your coffee before handing it back.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sip on your coffee. There’s something about being around Chan that’s comforting.

Holding his cup close to his chest he watches you carefully. You seem more at ease and it makes him happy.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks.

“How does ramen sound?” you ask, knowing there are a million places near to get good ramen.

“Sounds good to me.”

After finishing your cup of coffee you follow Chan back to his room so he can get dressed. Sitting on his bed you scroll through your phone to see a text from your mom and one from Felix.

Your moms text read, “I’m assuming you stayed at Felix.”

While Felix read, “were you okay after last night?” Your best friend knows you well and could tell that you had a rough day.

You send him a quick message saying that you’re okay that talking to Chan helped a lot.

Chan stood in front of you in a sweater with his tight jeans and pair of vans. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Once again he takes your hand leading you out of his apartment.

Standing in front of his motorcycle you’re at a loss for words. You were well aware he owned a motorcycle, but you hadn’t ever ridden on it. He holds his spare helmet out for you sporting a grin.

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” you say.

“Are you okay if we take this?” He’s unsure if this is a good idea. You seem so unsure staring at his motorcycle.

“Okay we can take this,” you reach out to take the helmet. He steps closer to you and helps up on your helmet and buckles it.

He gets on the motorcycle and reaches his hand out signaling for him to join him. Climbing on you wastes no time wrapping your arms around him. He starts the bike and heads out onto the main road. You hold on to him tightly.

There’s something about the way you hold him that makes his heart flutter a little. For the longest he wished he could gain your trust. He couldn’t help but be jealous of your friendship you shared with Felix. Sure you and Chan had always been friends, but you always had a wall up around him. You never fully let anyone in other than Felix.

Pulling up to your house, shut the motorcycle off and you quickly climb off.

“Did you want me to wait here?” Chan asks.

Your stomach twists at the idea of having to explain to your grandma who Chan is.

“Yes please if you don’t mind. My grandmother isn’t great with people she doesn’t know.”

“Okay that’s fine. I’ll be here, take your time,” he takes the helmet you had been wearing.

Rushing into the house you find your mom standing in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“YN are you okay?” She asks, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Yeah.”

She knits her eyebrows together, studying you, “why are you rushing.”

“My friend is taking me out to lunch,” you say.

“Who?” She’s being nosy like she normally is.

“Chan.”

Her eyebrow raises as she slowly smiles, “the handsome man that works at the bank?”

Of course your mom remembers Chan's job, and that he’s attractive.

“Yes.”

“Well have fun,” she smiles before taking another sip of her coffee.

Rushing off to your room you start stripping away your clothes. You toss your dirty clothes in your hamper before grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. Reaching into your dresser you pull out a black and white sweater. Heading off to the bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face.

You practically run out of the house attempting to avoid your mom. Walking outside you find Chan leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and smiles at you. Handing you a helmet you put it on and he helps you buckle it.

Crawling onto the back of the bike you wrap your arms around him holding your body close to his. He starts driving down the street and you suddenly feel so relaxed as you hold him. There’s something about him that is just so comforting to you.

Arriving at one of your favorite ramen places Chan turns off his bike and he helps you off. He takes your hand immediately. Chan knows you’re shy and a little more guarded, but he doesn’t give you a chance to put up a wall. He holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Walking up to the table he holds out your chair for you. This suddenly feels like a date and you get a nervous feeling in your stomach. You aren’t sure why you get so nervous at the thought of being on a date with Chan. He’s literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met, and you’ve already had sex with him. Yet you can’t seem to push away this nervous feeling.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” you ask after ordering.

Tilting his head he knits his eyebrows together, “because I like spending time with you. I know it seems like it’s coming out of left field, but YN I like you.”

You can’t believe he just said he liked you. You blink rapidly and just stare at them. How do you even respond to him?

“You like me?”

A half smile forms on his lips, “you’re a beautiful girl, you’re kind, and you have an amazing heart.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not asking you to suddenly be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you feel like you can trust enough to talk to about the things you’re going through,” reaching out he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the palm of your hand. His touch instantly relaxed you.

“Chan, I'm a mess. I’m not easy to be with. I feel bad Felix has to deal with me half the time.”

He squeezes your hand gently, “stop, I’m not asking you to give me anything here. I’ll just be your friend if anything, but I want you to know how I feel.”

Before you can say anything the waiter walks over and puts your bowls of ramen on the table in front of you.

Staring at the steaming bowl of soup you’re still trying to process everything Chan just said to you.

“Please say something,” he says.

“I want to get to know you more. I also want to spend more time with you.”

A large smile spreads across his face as he grabs a pair of chopsticks.

He spends the rest of lunch answering questions about himself. In the last twenty-four hours you’ve talked about yourself enough. You want to know more about the man who seems extremely interested in spending more time with you.

When the waiter brings over the check Chan hands him this card without even looking at the check. You tell him thank you. You didn’t expect him to pay for you.

Arriving at your house you hop off the bike, and before you can walk away Chan reaches out and grabs your wrist. He turns you so you're facing him. He raises his eyebrow and tugs you closer to him.

“I’m serious about wanting to spend time with you,” he knows he is putting himself on the line right now, but he knows he needs to. “Please give me a shot here. Let me be there for you.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans in close to you and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. You can help but smile as he pulls away.

“I’ll text you.”

He rides off and you’re left with your head feeling as if it’s swimming. The overwhelming feeling that he’s interested in you makes your head spin. You aren’t sure why anyone as perfect as him could be interested in you.

Everything’s a blur as you walk into your room you lay down staring at the ceiling. Chan sweet words play over and over in your ears. Closing your eyes you could picture his soft smile.

You aren’t sure how long you were laying there when your door opened. Looking at the door you find Felix standing in your room.

Throwing himself onto your queen size bed you can’t help but smile at Felix. His eyes are narrowed in on you.

“So what’s going on with Chan?” He didn’t bother asking anything else. He just jumped straight to the point.

Glancing at him from the corners of your eyes you find him staring at you.

“Nothing,” you lied. There was clearing something going on with Chan, but you just weren’t exactly sure.

“Then why didn’t you come home last night?” He smirks at you. It’s extremely clear he knows you were with Chan.

“Lee Felix, what do you know?” Sitting up quickly you grab a pillow holding it on your lap.

“Well your mother asked me when I walked in how our sleepover was. Like we’re teenagers again.”

Your eyes grow wide at the fact your mother asked Felix about you staying over.

“Please tell me you lied to her.”

He reaches up grabbing the pillow from your lap, “of course I lied.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you stay at Chan last night?”

Biting your lip you contemplate lying. You don’t want him asking details about what happened, but you can’t lie to him.

“Yeah I stayed with him.”

“What happened there?” he sits up.

“Lix,” a heavy sigh passes your lips. You know you can’t hide the details from him anymore.

“Just tell me. I’m not gonna judge you,” he’s sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

“We had sex,” you sigh.

“I knew it,” he almost shouts.

Shaking your head you try to push away your embarrassment. You never shared anything about your sex life.

“How did that even happen?” Felix knew that you were friends, but he didn’t know that you were nearly close enough with Chan to have sex with him.

“We spent the whole night just talking and stupid Seungmin made comments about us needing to get laid and somehow it got us having sex to relieve some stress,” you ramble on quickly.

He stares at you blinking and processes your statement. A smile tugs on his lips. Felix knows that Chan is a good guy and he won’t do anything to hurt you.

“Please say something,” you say softly, pulling your legs into your chest.

“I think you should give Chan a chance. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m a mess,” your eyes start to tear up.

“Give him a chance,” he puts his hand on your knee and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll try,” you say softly.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on your bed with your best friend. You move away from the subject of Chan which you’re thankful for. Eventually Felix convinces you to watch a movie with him. Your mom peaks her head asking Felix to stay for dinner. Your mother has loved Felix from the moment you met. Anytime Felix comes over to your mom to ask him to stay for dinner. Your grandmother also seems to love him. Even though she can’t always remember his name. She does remember she loves him. He always sits on the couch and will talk to her and tell her cute jokes. There’s a reason you’ve let your walls down around Felix. He’s just always seemed to be there by your side. You hope soon you can let your walls down around Chan as well.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #rose colored boy #bang chan angst

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