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thef1diary · 30 days

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Little Big Fan | Fifteen

— Little Big Aftermath [aka the end]

Series Masterlist

wc: 3k

we’ve made it to the end guys! I just have to say I never thought I’d complete this story and that too fifteen parts of it but to all those who read it and motivated me to keep writing, thank you. While it is the end of the official story, I will continue to take requests for blurbs on specific scenes you’d like to see. However, there won’t be a set posting date on these blurbs, it’ll be out whenever it’s requested and completed. Once again, thank you so much for those who were here since the first chapter, and here’s to more fic series in the future. P.S lemme know if you want to be tagged in the blurbs.

Your frown grew deeper as you turned in the direction your daughter had pointed, unfortunately spotting Tyler. Luckily, he wasn't looking at you two since he was focusing on the podium celebrations about to happen.

"I didn't know daddy was here, mama." Picking Isabella up, you shook your head, "I didn't know either, angel, but let's focus on Max for now okay?"

She gave a nod of agreement and applauded for the drivers, Oscar and Lando in particular, who finished second and third in the race. She did, however, cheer the loudest when Max, as he has done after almost every race this season, stepped onto the top step of the podium.

He was having trouble finding you and Isabella right away in the crowd, and you could see the slightest frown forming on his face until a smile emerged when he succeeded, connecting his gaze with yours.

Isabella giggled as Max held his hand up to wave at her before blowing a kiss in the air in your direction. His behaviour drew Lando and Oscar's attention to you as well, with the former driver rolling his eyes at Max jokingly and Oscar smiling at the interaction.

However, you didn't realize that someone else was also looking at you because your gaze didn't waver away from Max.

The champagne bottles were popped, and this time Isabella was awake to see it all, watching with fascination as it was the first time she was able to see it in person. "I wanna do that, mama," she pointed at the drivers spraying the alcoholic drink, soaking each other's race suits while laughing. "Maybe when you're older, Bella."

"When I'm 7?" She asked, and you chuckled, "a little more than that, sweetheart."

Once the celebrations were over, a huge part of the crowd dispersed, the teams resuming to their usual scheduled routines, preparing for post-race debriefs and other meetings. "Where's Maxy going?" Isabella asked, watching as he was led away by someone clad in a RedBull uniform.

"He's a little busy with interviews, but he told me that he'd come back as soon as he's done," you explained, knowing that Max had a post-race conference and a few other duties lined up.

Isabella huffed, "but he won the race." She rested her head on your shoulder for a moment while playing with a strand of your hair—the habit formed back when she was a few months old.

"Yeah he did, which means he's very famous right now and so many people want to talk to him," you explained and while she nodded in understanding, she still pouted, "I wanna talk to him too."

"Why don't we wait for him inside his driver's room?" You asked, turning around when she nodded.

You had almost reached Max's driver room—a place he had suggested for you and Isabella to stay to wait for him, but pausing in a secluded area as a familiar voice called out, "Isabella!" then heard your name as well. Isabella squirmed in your lap, wanting to get down after seeing Tyler walk up to you both. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to stop and chat.

"Tyler," you greeted, and awkwardness hung in the air for two seconds before Isabella decided to speak up. "Daddy, you said you were busy, what are you doing here?"

Despite her hesitance to stay at her father's place, which she still hasn't done since the day she was discharged from the hospital, she frequently spoke to him over the phone.

Unfortunately for him, Isabella rarely forgets promises. While he was busy playing the "good father" role after your ultimatum, he had make false promises, agreeing to everything she asked for without hearing her out properly. In that conversation, she asked about the promise he made of taking her to a race before she had met Max.

While you and Max had taken her once, she still wanted to experience the thrill with her father since he was the one who introduced the sport to her.

He glanced at you, silently asking if he did in fact claim that he was busy, and frowned when you nodded. "Oh Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know that I would have the time to be here, it was an unexpected decision or else I would've brought you along, but you're here anyways!" He tried to uplift her mood, but instead of hanging on to every word he spoke like she used to do, she just shrugged.

Deciding to divert the topic of conversation, Tyler asked, "did you enjoy the race?" He stepped forward, kneeling down to be closer to her but on instinct, Isabella moved away, clutching on to your hand tightly.

He frowned, once again glancing up at you after noticing her behaviour, but you didn't let an ounce of emotion show on your face. "I'm so happy Maxy won!" She exclaimed, her mood improving for a moment as she thought about him.

Standing up to his full height, Tyler looked at you, "why don't we sit and chat for a moment?" Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He scoffed, then shrugged, "fine, have it your way like always." You were not in the mood to indulge his stupid comments which would eventually lead to an argument, in fact you were here to enjoy the weekend with your boyfriend who you dearly missed in this moment.

His eyes widened briefly when you didn't respond to his comment, wondering how you changed so much in a matter of a few weeks that you couldn't care less about him anymore.

"Hey Bella, why don't you show daddy the caps that you got?" You prompted another topic, that Isabella quickly agreed to. Tyler's gaze remained on you for a moment, understanding that you truly had no intention on speaking to him longer than necessary. The conversations you did have were only necessary due to your daughter, but even those texts and calls started becoming less and less frequent.

Isabella took off her Red Bull cap, which had autographs from Max and Checo, to expose a Ferrari cap with two more signatures from Charles and Carlos, and then a McLaren cap that undoubtedly featured two signatures from Oscar and Lando. She caught up to Lando and Charles, who had given her their hats earlier, as well as their teammates, to obtain signatures. She then wanted to get autographs on her RedBull cap as well. When she asked Max and Checo, they chuckled with the latter claiming she had them all at her beck and call, but they nevertheless signed the cap.

Isabella ended up stacking all three caps on her head because she couldn't choose which one best matched with her outfit. She began explaining the story behind the signatures, and Tyler intently listened, asking a few questions in between as well.

"And then-" Isabella's gaze wandered off, eyes lighting up in excitement as she spotted, "-Maxy!"

Without any hesitation she ran up to him, colliding with him as she tried to wrap her arms around him, earning a low, "oof" from him.

Picking her up and settling her on his hip, holding her up with one arm, he held up his other hand that had a medal hanging from it. Max placed the medal around Isabella's neck, which he received on the podium earlier along with his trophy. "We won, princess," he commented, smiling as wide as she did.

She held both of her hands up, imitating the action Max did as he held his trophy on the podium, causing him to laugh. You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, and could hear their laughter from a few feet away.

Walking towards you as Max was initially planned on doing, he noticed a man next to you, which based on your descriptions was Tyler. He decided to overlook him for now, instead greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

Tyler held his hand out, "great race, congratulations on the championship. I'm a huge fan by the way." Max, nodded politely, still holding Isabella in his arms but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Thank you," he prompted, waiting for the man to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, so you're Tyler." Max glanced at you for a moment, watching as you tried to hide your smile behind your hands because of his antics. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" He questioned, and Max was quick to retort, "well, it's not really the best thing now is it?"

"I don't understand," he trailed off, and your boyfriend shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't understand, it's okay," he patted Tyler's shoulder in faux consolation. You had to take a step back so Tyler wouldn't see your expression, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

Tyler was quick to catch on to the condescending tone Max spoke with, looking at you—after you composed yourself fortunately. "So what, you get invited to one race and you guys are best friends now?" He asked, a hint of jealousy you were familiar with revealed in his tone.

"More like she's my girlfriend and they're here to support me," Max clarified. Tyler looked at Max, then Isabella, finally understanding why she was always so enamoured by him.

He scoffed, "oh great, enjoy my sloppy seconds then mate, I will warn you though, it's not worth it because a few months later she'll show you a positive pregnancy test and force you to be a father."

Your jaw dropped, instantly responding, "in front of my daughter?" You glanced at Isabella who was in fact hearing all the words spoken, only frowning due to yours and Max's expressions as she didn't understand the full context of the words her father had said, just knowing that it wasn't good.

Max wiped his hand over his mouth, jaw clenching while his warm gaze turned cold within seconds. "Apologize, now," he instructed, trying to hold himself back from causing a fight.

"Now why would I do that? It's true." Max placed Isabella back on her feet who quickly shuffled over to you, standing behind your legs. "How dare you stand here claiming to be my fan yet talk shit about the person I love?" The driver placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder again, but this time you could see the fear bubbling up in his eyes as his grip tightened.

Still, Tyler managed to scoff, "love? Bold claims there. Sorry to break it to you but she's probably just with you for your mon-" he couldn't finish his sentence because he was punched square in the jaw by your boyfriend.

"Max!" You shrieked, and watching the interaction, Isabella held on to your hands tightly with tears welling up in her eyes. You picked her up again, noticing that Tyler was fuming in anger. "Gonna fucking sue you for that," he spit out some blood, but Max only shrugged, "try me."

Fortunately, you guys were stood in between the team motorhomes, which meant you were slightly hidden away from public eye due to the buildings covering the scene.

Readying himself for another punch if needed, you shook your head, "it's not worth it, Max."

"Yeah Max, listen to your girlfriend," he taunted, angering you in the process. "Will you ever shut up?" You shot back. Max glanced at Isabella who had hid her face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

Nodding as a silent agreement with Max, you decided to walk away from the scene as you didn't want to expose Isabella to any more of this argument than what she has already heard. Glancing at Max once more, you hoped that your expression was indicating something along the lines of, "don't do anything too bad."

However, you could hear Max's words as he began speaking to Tyler, "listen here you little shit..." but you didn't stick around to hear the entire conversation, smiling to yourself knowing that Tyler would finally be put into his place—that too by his favourite driver.

Finally entering his driver's room, you sat down on the couch sighing in relief. Isabella was still in your lap and you ran your hand up and down her back in a soothing motion because you could feel her sniffling against you. "Bella," you murmured, wanting to see her adorable face.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetheart." You kissed her head before brushing your hand through her hair. You heard her mumble but didn't catch her words, "what was that?"

She lifted her head to look at you, and you frowned seeing the tears staining her cheeks. "Why is daddy so mean? I don't like him."

"Some people are just mean for no reason, and unfortunately, your daddy is one of them," you explained, no longer covering for him knowing that after what Isabella witnessed, she wouldn't want to be near him no matter what you said.

She frowned but didn't respond, leaning her head against your shoulder again. You didn't disturb her peace, knowing that after the eventful day, she needed some quiet time.

Max entered the room a few minutes later, and he smiled to greet you but it fell flat. He pointed at Isabella, then put his thumbs up to silently ask if she was okay, but you shrugged.

"What did you say to him?" You asked, knowing that whatever conversation followed probably wasn't kind. "I told him that I'd ban him from future races if I saw him anywhere near you or Bella, and he left."

You knew that it probably wasn't that easily done, but you didn't ask for more details.

You had thought Isabella fell asleep since she hadn't moved in a while, nor could you see her face, but she lifted her head up to look at Max once she heard some shuffling about in the room.

He paused as soon as his gaze connected with hers, unsure of how to initiate a conversation because he did literally punch her father. Isabella wiggled off your lap, and both you and Max thought that she would walk away further into the room so her next action surprised you both. Running towards Max, she held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.

"You're better than my dad, Maxy," she muttered, and he audibly sighed, the stress wrinkles on his face disappearing while wrapping his own arms around her smaller frame.

"Thank you, princess," he whispered back, and she pulled back to kiss his cheek. Isabella looked back at you, smiling when she saw you smile as well. "Thank you for taking care of my mama," your daughter told Max, and his heart warmed at her words. "Always."

The ring of your phone interrupted the beautiful sight in front of you, but your eyes widened when you saw that it was your mother calling. As soon as you pick it up, you're greeted by hearing your full name.

"Hi, mum," you stood up and walked further away just in case you were about to get a scolding although you had no idea what you could've possibly done. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"Tell you what?" You answered with a question of your own, knowing that she could be referring to anything at the moment. "That you have a boyfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, "how do you know that?" She chuckled, "because a friend of mine called me and told me that she just watched you kiss someone on live television, some racer guy."

Covering your mouth with your hand, you thought back to the moment Max kissed you in front of the huge crowd after getting out of his car, and of course there had to be cameras capturing the moment. "Max, he's a Formula 1 driver," you explained.

"Wait, the same Max that Bella talks about?" You hummed, "the same one."

"I'm glad you finally moved on from your daughter's father, but I'm also sad that you didn't tell me sooner and I looked foolish because I didn't know until my friend told me about it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think my relationship would be broadcasted live. Plus, I think the chapter with Tyler is finally over, for both me and Isabella."

"That's good to hear, she doesn't deserve a father like him. Is Max good to you?"

"He's the best to both of us, she lights up with joy every time she sees him." Your mother hummed as she heard your response, "then me and your father have to meet him one day."

You heard some laughter in the next room where Max and Isabella were, and you smiled at your mother's words, "I hope we can come by soon, I'd love to introduce him to you and dad."

After saying goodbyes and promises to meet soon, you returned to the room Max and Isabella were in, pausing in the doorway at the sight in front of you. Just like how Isabella was sitting in your lap earlier with her head against your shoulder, she did the same to Max.

You were about to make your presence known when you heard your daughter's question. "Maxy, why do you call me princess?"

Max's gaze found yours, always finding you whether you were standing in the corner of the room or in a crowd. "Because your mama is the queen," he responded casually, as if he was stating a fact.

Isabella lifted her head, "does that make you the king?" He shrugged, "I guess it does."

She giggled, "and does that mean we get a happily ever after like the storybooks?" Max reached his hand out towards you, asking you to join them which you obliged to easily.

"Ours is better than the storybooks," he stated, placing a kiss on Isabella's forehead before pecking your lips briefly.

The End.

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#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff

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littledovesnow · 4 months

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the president's wife

what happens when some rebels try and get back at coryo >:-)

a/n: angst angst angst!!, read the prologue (?) here

content warning(s): mentions of death, kidnapping, kind of canon level violence???

“Are you almost ready, my love?” Coriolanus asked, walking into the bedroom as he finished closing the cuff links on his wrists.

You nodded, walking out of the closet with a pristine pair of black stilettos in your hand, red bottoms causing a grin to spread across your husband’s face.

“Going for the vintage heels tonight?”

“Only for the most special of occasions.” You smiled, taking his hand as you stepped into the shoes. “Are you ready for your party, President Snow?”

Coriolanus’ eyes lit up when you called him that, following you out into the foyer. “More ready for the after party with you.”

You lightly slapped him on the chest, looking up at his hair. “I do wish you grew your curls out again. That’s one more thing that District 12 took from me.”

Coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. He had decided to keep the shorter hair from his first days back from his Peacekeeping stint, stating it made him look more professional.

“Yes, but it’s less to grab onto.” You had replied when he first brought the idea up to you. That alone almost made him grow the curls back out, but once you two discovered that it was even more fun with a buzz on the sides, the style stayed.

“Did you ever hear back from Tigris?” You asked, stepping into the black town car that was going to take you to the party.

Coriolanus had extended an invitation to his cousin to the inauguration party, but she was out in District Four with Fabricia, not due back in the Capitol for another couple days.

“She said she would try and make the earliest train back, but I haven’t heard if she’s made it or not.”

You hummed, looking out the windows as the Capitol citizens made their way to the Citadel, hoping to get a glimpse of the new First Couple. Little did they know, said couple was riding alongside them.

Coriolanus looked you up and down, hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”

“I am, just nervous. You know I don’t like crowds.” You had a dislike for large crowds ever since you were a young girl, having seen your father shot by rebels during what was supposed to be a routine drill.

“After tonight, you’ll not have to worry about large crowds.” Coriolanus promised you, ready to give you anything and everything under the sun.

Smiling at him, you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, making sure the red lipstick you wore wasn’t noticeable. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Coriolanus whispered, car coming to a stop outside the front entrance of the Citadel.

-----

You had been introduced to dozens and dozens of people, you weren’t sure you even remembered who anyone was by the time you and Coriolanus were able to have a moment of peace.

There had been endless congratulations to the new President and First Lady, with handshakes and some hugs following.

Coriolanus took a sip of the posca in front of him, gesturing to the bar. “Why don’t you go ask for some champagne, I made sure they had some on order for tonight for you.”

A man after your own heart, you squeezed his hand before heading over to the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Champagne, please.”

“Ah, you’re the reason we have cases in the back.” The bartender smiled, popping the cork on a fresh bottle.

You smiled, thanking the man for the glass of bubbly. “Was champagne not a common drink with the last president?”

“No, his party-goers and visitors often went for posca and morphling over anything else.” The bartender, Gus, you read on his nametag, continued to pour drinks while talking to you. “But it seems like you and President Snow will have your fair share of pocsa and champagne, I presume?’

“Not really, Coryo doesn’t really drink unless it’s a social event.” You spoke, watching as Coriolanus was pulled into a conversation with some other politicans. “What else do you-”

You froze when you felt the telltale pressure of a gun barrel to your side.

“Move, speak, do anything to alert anyone and I’ll shoot.”

Swallowing, you looked over at Gus, who simply looked at your predicament and froze, as well, half-dry whiskey glass in his hands.

“Good.” You braved a look at the voice talking, seeing an unfamiliar man with sun damage on his face. If you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he’s from District 11. “You’re going to follow me out the back, casually. As to not alert that husband of yours.”

“The president. You mean the president of Panem.” You whispered, regretting it as you felt the gun push harder into your side.

“Shut up.”

You braved one last look at Gus, who was about to speak when a gunshot rang out, your eyes growing wide as you saw blood stain his white shirt.

-----

Coriolanus was mid-sentence with some politicians trying to get money for District Four when he heard an all-too-familiar sound hit his ears.

People ducked for cover, screams were let out, and several Peacekeepers rushed over to Coriolanus to escort him out of the room.

He looked at the bar, heart racing when he saw you weren’t there. “Where’s my wife?” He asked, head swiveling to look around. “Did you see where she went?”

“Sir, there’s still a threat, we’ve got to move.” A Peacekeeper said, urging Coriolanus out of the room.

Unable to fight back against the increasing-number of Peacekeepers, Coriolanus was ushered into a saferoom of sorts, though nothing felt safe without you next to him.

“What the fuck happened? Where is my wife?” Coriolanus demanded, this was not how he predicted he’d be spending his first night as President.

One brave Peacekeeper spoke up. “We’re unsure of her location at the moment but-”

“What do you mean you’re unsure of her location? You better find her or your family will be wondering where you are in the morning.” Coriolanus threatened, eyes dark with rage and terror.

Peacekeepers raced out of the room, and Coriolanus collapsed into one of the seats along the wall, head falling into his hands.

He was going to lose you before you two even had a chance to live.

Heart hammering in his chest, he shot up when he heard the door open, Peacekeepers walking into the room. “There’s a bartender in the infirmary, Sir. He’s asking to speak to you.”

“Why would I-”

“He said he saw who took your wife.”

Coriolanus said no more, instead following the Peacekeepers down to the infirmary, trying to get the uneasy feeling out of his system.

Gus, who had miraculously survived a shot to the stomach, wasn’t really expecting the Peacekeepers to bring him President Snow, but he watched as the blonde followed two men into the room.

“Mr. President, I- I think some rebels broke into the party. They didn’t look Capitol, and I believe I saw one of them had a gun.”

Coriolanus immediately dismissed the Peacekeepers from the room, following them to the door and closing it.

He spun and looked at Gus, who was shaking a like a leaf. “You’re going to tell me everything you saw and heard up until they shot you. You’re going to help me find my wife, and I promise you, you will not have to worry about working again.”

Gus nodded, swallowing his nerves. “She- she was asking about what other drinks we had behind the bar. These two guys came up and I thought they were just guests, some past presidents had invited people from the Districts, I thought that’s what they were.”

Coriolanus felt his blood pressure rising by the second but urged Gus to continue.

“I didn’t know what they were going to do until Y/N stopped talking, and when I looked up I saw the run rammed into her side. I think- I think they went out the back exit.”

Coriolanus thanked Gus before darting out the door, leaving the Peacekeepers running after him.

-----

You looked around the dingy room, the only light coming from an oil lamp in the corner. “Where the hell am I?”

“Oh, she lives.”

You turned to try and get a look at the men who abducted you, though it was hard to make out any features in the dim light. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Swallowing, you took a deep breath, crying out when you tried to stand. You looked down, seeing blood dripping from a large gash on your leg.

“Oh, yeah you sliced your leg when you fell.” The man nodded to the rather sharp-looking scythe to the side of you.

The door opened, and your head snapped up to see two more men walking into the room, one of them dropping their jaw when they said you. “The President’s wife?! You’ve just signed our death certificates!”

Feeling a dull ache in your head, you watched as the man who presumably kidnapped you from the party held his hands up, lazy smile on his face.

“Not a worry, once Snow sees we have his wife, he’ll pay anything to get her back. We’ll be able to start harvesting faster than ever.”

“You are from 11, what do you want with me?” You asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg.

“Oh, smart little bitch you are.” The main ringleader smiled at you, a handful of teeth missing.

“You see, when your dear little husband signed his name on the last bill passed in the Capitol, he took away a third of our pay. For what? Some hospital?”

You remained silent. Coriolanus had signed onto a bill that would help women’s health, a step in the direction of the fertility research he wanted to fund.

“There’s little we can do with what we made before, Mrs. Snow.” The man sneered, making a face when he said your name. “Now? We’re already starving out there. We had to do something to make him notice.”

“But abducting his wife?!” The most reasonable out of the three asked, arm shooting out to point at you. “Couldn’t, I don’t know? Blow something up?”

The men started arguing with each other, taking their attention off of you.

You took their quarrel as a chance to limp towards the door, not getting far from the immense pain you felt radiate from your leg. It was more than just a cut, you were sure of it.

-----

Coriolanus looked out the window, sun peaking over the mountains. He still had no idea where you were, and with each passing hour he feared for your life more.

“Coryo!” Tigris ran over to her cousin, enveloping him in a hug. “I came as soon as I got off the train, what happened?”

“Rebels, they have Y/N.” Coriolanus rasped, and Tigris’ frown deepened as she saw how worked up her cousin was. His hair was a mess from tugging at it, bags under his bloodshot eyes, once-pristine shirt was now wrinkled. “I have Peacekeepers out in all the Districts, the Capitol is being combed through.”

“They’ll find her, Coryo. They will.” Tigris said, hugging her cousin again. “They’re checking each train car as they come into the station, they’ll find her.”

Coriolanus nodded, looking back out over the skyline of the Capitol, knowing you were out there somewhere.

-break-

You were on a train, you heard the squeaking of the brakes as it came to a stop. “Where are we going?” You asked, tending to your now sore wrist, a result of stumbling off balance when you tried once again to walk on your busted leg.

“They’re searching all the cars. They’re going to find us.”

The ringleader didn’t think this far ahead, not planning on shooting Gus at the bar when he snuck into the party. Not planning on alerting the Peacekeepers as soon as he did.

“Fuck, fuck, uh, we have to run.”

You heard the knocking on the door, before the train car’s rusty door was slid open by Peacekeepers, who immediately fired their guns at the three rebels.

“Alert President Snow, we found his wife.”

You started to cry, wanting nothing more than to see Coriolanus after the last few hours.

-break-

Coriolanus ran through the halls of the hospital, Tigris hot on his heels.

“Where is she?!” He yelled, eyes frantic.

“Last door on your left, Mr. President.” The commanding Peacekeeper saluted the young man, nodding at Tigris as she followed her cousin.

You looked up from the long line of stitches on your leg when you heard quick footsteps growing nearer, before you saw an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair come into view.

“Coryo,” you sighed, struggling to sit up, face contorting in pain.

“My love, take it easy.” Coriolanus rushed over to your side, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

You cried into your husband’s shoulder, dam finally breaking. “I- I was so s-scared, they had guns and- and I know that guns inherently aren’t that scary. But, Coryo, they- they were going to make you pay ransom!”

“I would’ve, I would’ve paid anything to get you back to me.” Coriolanus mumbled, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Tigris cleared her throat, and you looked behind Coriolanus to see the older Snow. “You’re back!”

“I’m back, but we’re going to catch up later. You need to rest, and you need to sleep.” She said, latter half of her statement aimed at her younger cousin.

You smiled at her, watching as she left the room and closed the door once more. “I’m sorry I ruined the party, Coryo.”

Coriolanus made a noise in the back of his throat. “You didn’t ruin it, gorgeous. Those rebels did, though I heard they were already taken care of.”

Nodding, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the image of their dead bodies out of your head. “What are you going to do to their families?” You asked quietly, knowing vengeance was in store for them.

Shaking his head, Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, just focus on your health.”

-----

a/n: i love angst with a fluffy ending, it is my favorite. also i told you titles are my kryptonite i cannot do them right

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #hunger games tbosas #hunger games imagine #hunger games x reader #young coriolanus snow

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dreaming-medium · 7 months

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 6

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Frottage - Bang Chan

Word Count: 8.8k

Summary: Being an award winning actress isn’t as easy as some might think. Award shows themself are one of the more difficult events to tackle. But luckily, during this ceremony, you get to meet some of your favorite idols, and they get to meet their favorite actress.

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“And after the awards ceremony there’s an after party at The Plaza.” Your agent’s voice is strictly business in the back of the limousine.

You’re playing with the fabric of your gown while absentmindedly listening to her.

“Do I have to be on set tomorrow?”

“Yes, your call is at 9:00 AM. Transportation will be at your hotel at 7:30.”

You groan and look up at the ceiling. “Why do they always put these award shows on weekdays?”

“Your weekends aren’t exactly free anymore, either.”

Yes, you’re aware.

The life of an actress was not easy. Especially an award winning one. Right now, you are the hot, new, up-and-coming actress that everyone has their eye on. The actress that every director wants in their movie, their TV show, their commercials– everything.

Currently, you’re in the middle of filming a TV show that has a high fantasy aesthetic to it. You’re the main role in the show, the main badass warrior that everyone roots for. The kind of character that has a million and thirty Tik Tok edits of her.

It’s one of those shows where your character is constantly going through the wringer. The amount of bruises that you have to sport on camera increases each day; real and fake.

Your nerves begin to creep up on you the closer you get to the award venue.

Red carpets were one of the hardest parts of the job. Memorizing lines? Easy. Learning blocking and fight choreo? You do that every day.

Talk to strangers and pose for pictures? No, thank you.

Who were you wearing again?

“This dress is Gucci, right?”

“No, it’s Christian Siriano. I’m glad you asked. Your jewelry is Gucci and your shoes are Prada.”

You stare at your agent blankly, she hasn’t looked up from her tablet once. You were not made for this part of the job.

“Jesus…” you sigh and lean back into the cushioned seat.

“While we’re at it, do you even know what award you’re up for?”

“Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, right?”

“And?”

“And?” you repeat incredulously. “I thought I was only up for one!”

Finally, your agent looks up with a smirk. “Trick question, you passed. Proud of you.”

You can’t help but laugh and look out the window. “You know I’m nervous as all hell, don’t test me.”

“Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you have this in the bag.”

“That’s exactly what I’m nervous about. I have to get up, walk up those stairs in these Gucci—“

“Prada.”

“Prada shoes. And then make an acceptance speech in front of everyone. Millions of people. No pressure.”

She laughs and looks down at her tablet again. “You’re very charming and everyone loves you, you can talk the paint off a wall, Y/N, just be yourself.”

Grumbling, you cross your arms over your chest. But you can’t sit still in that position for too long at all. You’re too fidgety.

In front of you, there’s a chilled bottle of champagne. You pour it into one of the flutes and sip it entirely too fast for the quality of the drink. ‘Sip’ is putting it gently, you down it.

A second glass is poured, but you choose to hold that one in your hand tightly. Absent-mindedly, you swirl the champagne around, watching the bubbles form and pop up at the top.

A few moments of silence pass, you begin to mutter to yourself to ease the stress. “Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, Prada shoes. Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, Prada shoes..”

The crowd starts getting louder the closer you get to the event. Cameras are already flashing outside your limousine.

“I haven’t even told you who’s going to be there.”

Your agent sounds extremely smug all of a sudden. When you look over at her, there’s a cocky smirk on her face.

“Who?” With that look, you’re not even sure that you want to know the answer.

“Maybe put the drink down before I tell you. Wouldn’t want you to spill it on your…”

“Christian Siriano.”

“Christian Siriano dress.”

After downing the contents once more, you put the glass down.

“Okay, who?”

Her smile grows even wider. “You know Stray Kids, right?”

Your face pales, even under all that makeup all the color drains from your skin.

“They’re going to be there?”

She knows, she knows you’ve been a fan for a while. You were a Stay before fame came your way.

Your agent smiles and nods, the light from her tablet illuminating her face.

“Don’t play with me,” your voice is strained. “That’s mean.”

You’ve been keeping your admiration of them on the down low for so long. Now that you’re in the public eye, you have to be very low key about things.

It was killing you.

“They did a soundtrack song for a show, it’s up for an award.”

You were nervous before. Now you’re downright hysterical.

“They’re going to be there? All eight of them?”

“To my knowledge, yes.”

The limousine comes to a gradual stop. The screams outside are deafening, even through the car doors.

“Will I see them?” You ask, gathering your skirt up to try and assist with a graceful exit out of the limo.

“Probably!” There’s a little hint to her voice that you can’t quite put your finger on. What is she doing? What does she know?

The driver comes around the limousine and you take a deep breath, activating your celebrity face.

It’s never hard for you to muster a genuine smile. You’re humble about your life, you know how lucky you are. Thinking about how far you’ve come is all the motivation you need to let the corners of your lips perk up.

“Ready?” Your agent asks.

“Yes, ma’am!”

The door opens and the roar of the crowd goes insane. You’re practically blinded by the flashes of the cameras.

You do your very best to keep a level head and follow the instructions of the security team around you.

In the meantime, as you walk into the venue, you turn and smile at the fans behind the barricades.

Sending them hand hearts, waving enthusiastically back at them. You look up at your head security guard.

“Can I please go sign a few autographs?”

He looks down at you, obviously annoyed. But annoyed in the fatherly way. Just by the look on his face, you knew he was going to say yes.

You quickly pick up your skirt and walk over to the barricade. The screams get louder and louder the closer you get.

“Hi! Hi!” You greet all the fans as they scream for you. So many different objects are thrust over the fence for you to sign.

You grab a marker and begin leaving your signature over everything in sight: posters, shirts, books.

Several selfies are taken with you. Every single fan is so sweet and kind that you can’t help but spend extra time with them.

They reach out and grab your hands, you hold them back and have conversations with them.

You always do this. It’s something you’re very well known for.

“Miss Y/N.” your security guard says gruffly behind you.

“Okay, okay. I gotta go, guys. It was so nice meeting you, and it was nice seeing you again!” You point to a fan that you recognized from a convention you attended a few months ago.

After blowing a few more kisses, you leave the barricade and head towards the red carpet.

If it was up to you, you would’ve stood there and talked with your fans all day and never gone into the awards ceremony. They’re the reason you’re here, after all.

Walking along the carpet, you plaster a smile on your face and wave to all the photographers. You stand still right in the middle of the space and strike several different practiced poses.

You make sure to look in all different directions and show off the dress hugging your body beautifully.

It’s a dark yellow gown with huge puffed sleeves that sit off your shoulders. The center of the gown dips down to show off your cleavage. The rest of the skirt poofs out in a princess style.

It’s absolutely gorgeous. Crafted to show off your body in the best way.

All the photographers call out your name, all of them trying to get your attention.

You wave to several that you recognize and say hello to others.

Your short minutes on the red carpet run out and you quickly make your way across to the other side to link arms with your agent.

She pats your arm, “Great job! Now for the hard part.”

On the other side of the red carpet there are several different magazines, websites, and other fashion sources lined up with interviewers stationed in front of cameras.

“I studied for this, remember?” you tease her and hug her arm closer before letting go.

The first interview you do is with Vogue, they had grabbed your attention so fast you almost got whiplash.

How’s the show? Who are you wearing? Are you nervous about tonight?

These are all questions you prepared for.

Next interview was with Vanity Fair. You had recognized the interviewer, so you approached her first.

“Y/N!” Her face lights up when she sees you.

“Hi!” you answer just as cheerfully, wrapping her in a big hug and then holding her out at arms length. “How have you been?”

“So good, you?”

“Can’t complain– busy. I’m so glad to see you!”

“Me too! Do you have time for an interview?” She asks hopefully.

“I always have time for you.”

She says thank you and her camera man gets into place. A second microphone is handed to you. Before you can blink, she’s in interview mode.

You smile and listen to her introduction.

“I am here with, Y/N L/N, star of the Emmy award winning show, Kings and Pirates. How are you doing tonight, Y/N?”

You lift the microphone up to your mouth and speak into it happily. “I’m doing great, thank you! Always a pleasure to be talking with you on the red carpet.”

“You flatter me, Y/N! Now tell us the obvious question here: Who are you wearing?”

“I am wearing an original Christian Siriano dress, Gucci jewelry, and Prada shoes.”

“The entire outfit is beautiful! An amazing dress to hopefully show off when you win Best Actress tonight…?”

You laugh humbly. “I don’t know, there are so many amazing actresses nominated tonight. A girl can hope, but when I see the other names around mine, I can’t help but be anxious.”

The interviewer opens her mouth to ask another question, but the crowd absolutely erupts in cheers. Louder than when you got out of your limo, louder than some concerts you’ve attended.

“Oh my god, I think someone important just showed up.” You joked into the microphone.

Both you and the interviewer are looking across the carpet, craning your necks to see if you can get a glimpse of whoever just stepped out.

“Minho! Hyunjin! Felix!” Crowd members scream out several names and your heart rate skyrockets.

“Oh my god, it’s Stray Kids.” You accidentally say into the mic.

“Oh wow! Are you a Stay?” She asks you. Your head whips around and a dark blush covers your cheeks.

Laughing nervously, you look down at the ground, suddenly sheepish. “Ah… well, yeah. I’ve been a fan of theirs for years now.”

“Did you know they were going to be here tonight?”

“I was told it was a possibility, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

Joke after joke makes the interviewer and her cameraman laugh.

The interview continues without a hitch. But the entire time all you want to do is turn around and see if you can catch a glimpse of Stray Kids.

Yes, you’re famous. But you’re just a Stay at heart.

You say your goodbyes with the interviewer and turn to move onto the next one.

A gasp catches in your throat as soon as you step away.

All eight of them are right there, doing their own interview with Buzzfeed. They’re smiling and laughing about something.

You’re just able to stare. They’re right there. You’ve never been in the same space as them.

Act professional, Y/N! Stop acting like a fangirl, you’re literally on the clock right now!

Their laughter is contagious and you find yourself smiling as you turn away and walk to another interviewer trying to flag you down.

“… excited to maybe meet tonight? You guys are usually at music award shows, so this is definitely new for you! There’s some new faces that you probably have never seen before.”

“We actually were just talking about this on the ride over,” Chan says to the interviewer, ever the front man. “We’re all huge fans of Kings and Pirates, we watch it together every week when new episodes come out. We joked that it would be an amazing opportunity to say hi to Y/N L/N.”

It’s like the red carpet is pulled right out from underneath your feet.

“But that would be like trying to get a private conversation with royalty, you know?”

You? They want to meet you? They watch your show? Every week? Together?

“I think I just saw her around…” the interviewer trails off, by her tone you can tell she’s looking around for you.

Act casual, Y/N. Pretend like you weren’t listening to every word of their interview closely. Act normal for once in your life.

“Ah, no way.” Chan’s thick accent reaches your ears. He sounds so shy by his tone. Several other members murmur and tease one another.

“Oh, there she is! Y/N!” The interviewer grabs your attention— she technically already had it.

The members begin to get louder when you turn your head to look at the entire group of them staring at you.

When your eyes meet all of theirs, each of them freeze like a deer in headlights. Do they even know who they are?

You can’t tell if you’ve gone sheet white or bright red. Your heart is beating so fast it might explode.

The interviewer waves you over, you look over at the other one you were walking to and hold up a finger to say ‘one moment’ before walking over to the large group of them.

“Hi, hi!” You cheer casually when you come up next to them.

All right members look absolutely starstruck. Jeongin’s eyes look like they might bug out of his head.

They all bow politely when you join the group.

Chan’s bow is a second later than everyone else’s. He’s too busy staring in absolute disbelief.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” the interviewer says. You think you recognize her from another event.

“You as well,” you respond with a beautiful smile.

“Let’s get you a mic— oh, we have no more— maybe someone— can share?”

Chan is the member closest to you, he immediately angles the mic your way. He does it so fast and eagerly it almost hits right into you.

You giggle and thank him, “Thank you! It’s good to see you too,” you repeat and step a bit closer to him to make sharing easier.

He smells so good. You can feel his body heat radiating onto your bare shoulders. Thankfully, the outdoor chill isn't affecting you much due to your adrenaline being so high.

“Y/N, before I ask anything else, I do need to ask who you’re wearing.”

“Oh, a Christian Siriano original with accessories by Gucci and shoes by Prada.”

“Absolutely stunning,” the interviewer compliments.

A light giggle comes from your chest and you go to thank her. It’s under his breath but you hear Chan say something along the lines of ‘that’s an understatement.’

“I did call you over here for a specific reason, besides the fact that we would love to interview a nominee for Best Actress. It seems you have eight fans all eager to meet you!”

You turn and look over at the members with wide eyes. “Oh my god!” You say out loud and your hand flies to your chest. “I am literally honored!”

“You know Stray Kids?” The interviewer asks.

Well, if they already said they were fans…

You lean down into the mic and laugh, “I have been a Stay for so long, are you kidding?”

Every single one of them don shocked expressions. Chan goes stiff as a board.

You look at each of them with one of the most gorgeous smiles across your face. “When I was called over here with you guys I thought I was going to pass out. I had your discography playing in the room while my stylists got me ready.”

All eight of them move around like little kids meeting their idols for the first time. They each stare at you with literal stars in their eyes.

“The first album that caught my attention was In Life, actually. Haven is my favorite song.”

You rain compliment after compliment down on them.

“It’s truly an honor to meet you, we’re all such huge fans.” Felix is the one that breaks the silence into the mic. The rest of them all nod eagerly.

“Since we’re all fans of Kings and Pirates,” the interviewer brings your attention back. “Do you think you could give us a small spoiler for the new season coming out?”

“Ah,” you laugh and look around a bit, sucking your teeth in thought. “I reaaally shouldn’t, but…” You look to the side to make eye contact with all the members but Chan’s piercing gaze is the one that stole your breath away.

His stylist had done his hair in such a natural, curly way. Every single strand is sitting perfectly on his head. The makeup on his face highlights his features angelically.

Especially that beautiful nose of his.

Each of them wore black tie suits with a bit of personal flair on them. Chan’s entire suit, including the undershirt and tie, was black.

It takes a moment for your brain to reboot, not that anyone noticed. To them, it just looked like you were thinking of a small spoiler to give away.

“I think that fans can look forward to seeing an old face that we previously had to say goodbye to.”

Jeongin eagerly grabs Han’s arm and says something in his ear. The two of them start whispering about what the spoiler could possibly mean.

The rest of them all move around anxiously. Except Chan. He continues to stare at you with his lips parted slightly.

You hold his eye contact for one more moment before looking back at the interviewer with a sinfully sweet smile.

“Wow!” She says over-dramatically on purpose, “I think us fans have a lot to look forward to. Best of luck to all of you with your nominations tonight!”

“Thank you so much!” You chirp into the mic and stand there with a smile while she does her required sign off to go back to the main camera back in LA.

During those few moments, you feel Chan shift his weight so that his entire arm brushes against yours. Goosebumps immediately fly up your shoulder and through your neck.

It takes every muscle in your body not to react to it.

He’s still holding the mic between the two of you just in case you need to speak again. You want to turn your head and look at him so badly.

You want to talk to him in the worst way; ask him questions about the music, even just how his day is, anything.

The cameras cut and you instantly let out a sigh of relief, next to you, you see the eight of them deflate a bit too.

The interviewer says her thanks and the crew takes the mics back from everyone.

“It really was a pleasure meeting you guys,” you say with your hand on your heart again. “Words cannot describe how honored I am to be talking to you all.”

“Are you kidding?” Chan jokes. “We all feel the same way. I don’t think we even thought we would be able to stand near you tonight.”

You laugh and see your agent signaling you out of the corner of your eye.

“Bah! I’m just a girl, really! Best of luck to you guys tonight, I’ll be cheering extra loud from the crowd when you win!”

“The same goes for us,” Chan smiles. He sticks his hand out and you immediately grab it.

Electricity shoots up your arm and you have to bite your cheek to keep yourself from screaming.

Your hands shake and you say your goodbyes to each of the members before walking away to your next interview.

As soon as they think you’re out of earshot, they all begin talking rapidly to one another about you.

“Can you believe it?”

“She’s a Stay!”

“Oh my god, I think I blacked out, did that really happen?”

“You lucky bastard, you got to shake her hand and share your mic with her.”

“Stop acting like a middle schooler.”

Their voices fade into the background the further you get from them. You just can’t help but smile and look down at the floor sheepishly.

---------------------------------------

“I’ll find you after the awards show, okay, hon?” Your agent catches your attention as you walk into the auditorium.

She grabs both of your forearms lightly and kisses your cheek. “Best of luck to you, don’t make yourself look stupid on stage.”

That last part is whispered into your ear and it makes you laugh. “I won’t! I won’t!”

She says her goodbyes once more and you look up at the usher waiting for you.

This award show has its nominees all sitting around large dinner tables. There’s about ten people per table.

For your show, you were the only one nominated for an award tonight, so not even your director or crew was here to sit with you.

The usher held out his arm for you to take and you did so with a gracious smile. There’s a reason you’re known for charming everyone you meet.

He leads you through the vast room. Several fellow actors call your name and greet you, and you respond to each one happily.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N.”

No way. Absolutely no way.

Seated around the entire table are the eight members you saw mere minutes ago, their manager taking the ninth seat.

Sure enough, your name is printed on a sign draped over the back of the chair.

Minho looks up at you first and waves sheepishly. You immediately wave back.

If Lee Minho waves, you wave back.

“Hi again!” You greet them all before turning up and gently laying a hand on the usher’s bicep to thank him. He bows his head once and walks off.

Chan, who was seated next to your empty chair, practically springs out of his seat and stands next to you.

“I can’t believe this,” you tell him with a wide smile. He mirrors it and holds his hand out to the chair.

You laugh while he grabs the back of it and pulls it out from the table.

It takes a little bit of special maneuvering, but you manage to fold your poofy skirt down in order to sit down. Chan pushes your chair back in and takes his seat next to you.

He now sits on your left, Seungmin on your right.

“I guess I would’ve met you guys tonight regardless, then!”

“It seems that way,” Chan answers. He reaches up and rubs the side of his neck with his hand.

Now, from years of being a fan, you know that’s a nervous tick of his. And with your friendly nature, all you want to do is soothe him.

“It’s like I’m getting a deluxe, VIP fan meeting. When Stay watches the award ceremony they’re all going to put a bounty on my head.”

They all laugh and you turn to look at Seungmin, “Can I have an autograph before I die? I didn’t bring any of my albums with me, though.”

He laughs at your joke and your heart smiles with his beautiful grin.

“I knew I should’ve brought a photocard with me.”

Behind you, Chan shifts around. “You bought our albums?”

You turn back to him, “Of course I did. I wanted to support you guys. Best way to do that is streaming your music and buying the albums, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers nervously, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth. “Yeah, you’re right. Just didn’t think I’d ever meet a celebrity I admired and find out they’re a Stay.”

You giggle and lean forward on the table. “I hope that’s not weird. I think I would’ve exploded if I didn’t tell you guys how big of a fan I was.”

“Not weird at all, just unexpected.”

“I guess I feel the same way, especially after hearing that you guys watch the show.”

“We love the show!” Han tells you from across the table. “Sometimes Minho will cut dance rehearsals early for us to go back and watch it.”

“Seriously?” you ask. “Wow, that really means a lot, you have no idea.”

“It’s easy to be a fan of yours,” Chan grabs your attention. “You’re one of the kindest people we’ve met in a while.”

Oh, you are practically kicking your feet around.

“Fame is a whole other universe to tackle. I wanted to make sure I treat my fans and everyone around me the way I wanted to be treated before all this happened to me. It’s important not to lose yourself. But I know you guys all know that already. You’re masters at it.”

“Hyunjin still lets it get to his head.” Felix jokes.

“What!”

The pre-show continues like this as the rest of the celebrities file in. Many stop by your chair and say hello to you.

With each one, you get up out of your seat, hug and kiss them hello, then sit back down only to be interrupted again.

“You certainly are popular,” Chan comments after you say goodbye to a fellow actor. “That last guy crossed the room to come say hi to you.”

With a giggle, you joke, “Is someone jealous?”

He stiffens for a moment, his back going straight and he clenches his fists on the tabletop for a moment. “No.”

His answer is not firm at all.

Before you’re able to analyze it, producers come out among the audience to tell everyone the cameras are about to begin rolling.

“When is your award in the lineup?” You whisper over to Seungmin.

“Right before yours, actually.”

“Maybe I’ll see you all backstage then.”

You both smile at each other and shift back in your chairs.

Several cameramen come out into the audience with their large sets of equipment. One of them is very obviously hovering by you.

You know he’ll signal you if you’re being shown. The teleprompters strategically placed along the venue also show what is being broadcasted.

Opening music begins playing and the lights dim among the audience. The centerpieces on the tables give off an evening glow.

A waiter comes over and places your drink on the table. You actually had forgotten you requested one before sitting down.

You thank him and he takes his leave.

“What’s that?” Chan whispers in your ear.

“Espresso martini,” you answer. “Wanna try?”

Chan looks over at his manager, who is busy watching the host make his opening speech. He nods quickly and leans down, taking a long sip off the top.

A tiny ‘mmm’ comes from the back of his throat and he looks at you while licking his lips a bit.

“Oh that’s delicious.”

“And dangerous.”

You lift the glass and take a long sip from it and place it back down on the table.

“I got my first major role fresh out of college. I’m still learning how to not rely on alcohol to have fun.”

Chan just laughs and both of you direct your attention to the host on stage.

“-and if all else fails, we have our lovely knight in shining armor to protect us, tonight.”

The camera man turns and has the camera on your face. You smile brightly and blow a kiss into the camera. The entire audience lets out several positive reactions.

When the camera cuts away, you let out a sigh of relief. “I knew they were gonna do that.”

You take another large swig of your drink. It’s almost empty already. Curse these fancy people and their tiny portions.

Chan leans over and suddenly his hot breath is on your skin. Goosebumps rip down your body and you can’t suppress a shiver.

“Careful,” he whispers lowly. “I don’t think you want to be stumbling onto the stage.”

“I think you underestimate my alcohol tolerance, Mr. Bang.”

You both make eye contact.

The audience applauds as the host leaves the stage and the first announcer comes on. Both of you clap and Chan leans away from you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth.

His cologne lingers around your senses even after he’s gone.

Dammit, he’s right. But, my god, you need another stiff drink.

---------------------------------------

“And here are the nominees…” The announcer says into the mic. The entire table is holding their breath.

This was it, this was Stray Kids’ award. Your jaw clenches with anticipation as the names are read off one by one. Individually, you crack each of your knuckles anxiously.

All eight of the members are staring up at the screen, each of them have their own nervous ticks.

You reach under the table to try and comfort Chan a bit, your hand landing on his knee. He jumps in place at the table at the contact.

Without looking at each other, he places his hand on top of your and squeezes a bit.

“It’s going to suck when I have to sit here by myself after you guys win.” you whisper to him.

“If we win.”

“You’re going to win.” You squeeze his knee again.

“And the winner is…”

You suck in a breath, all of them stiffen up. Cameras are pointed at each of the nominees tables.

“Stray Kids!”

Immediately, you spring out of your seat with a gleeful cheer. Clapping your hands together and smiling at each of them.

Without a second thought, Chan wraps you into a grand hug, pure joy written across his face. Your face morphs into a shocked one, but you hug him back happily.

He’s so warm. His hug is so tight.

After a few heartbeats, he tears himself off of you with an unreadable expression. All eight of them walk up to the stage and grab the award from the presenter.

Sitting back down, you take a second to catch your breath.

So badly, you want to focus on their acceptance speech, but all you can think about was the way Chan held you. It went straight to your heart, and thanks to the alcohol in your veins, it traveled a bit south as well.

Nervously, your hand comes up and rubs at your chest by your collarbones, a small nervous tick of yours.

The table feels so empty without the eight of them there. Their manager is the only one left sitting there with you. He’s watching their speech intently.

Both of you stand and clap once more as they walk off the stage. All of them pushing each other gleefully and playing slap ass. It makes you giggle.

All of the lights around the room shift again and another announcer comes into the stage. The same camera man as before comes around the side of the table to stand closer to you.

The announcer goes through their speech about how important actresses are, how each of you stood out, how it was an honorable nomination. Your heart is in your throat, you can feel each thud against your ribcage so closely.

No one was next to you to hold your knee.

“And the nominees are…”

Various clips of the other nominees in their element flash behind their names.

Your name is third. Several different dramatic scenes play out within the five second window. They chose some of your best scenes for that little animation. The next few nominees flash after that.

“And the winner is…”

You suck in your breath.

“Y/N L/N! King and Pirates!”

The entire audience erupts in cheers. Practically everyone stands up on their feet.

You bury your face in your hands in disbelief.

“Oh my god!” you practically yell as you stand up.

An actor from the next table places his hand on your back to help you out of your chair. You smile gratefully at him and make your way up to the stage.

During the entire walk, several different people offer you their congratulations, you thank each of them, shaking their hands.

Climbing your way onto the stage, you make your way over to the announcer, kissing their cheeks as a thank you and turning to speak into the mic.

“Oh wow,” you laugh into the mic, looking down at the award and then back up at the audience. “I know everyone says this, but I really did not expect this! I mean, have you seen any of the other shows?”

A gentle laugh comes from the crowd.

The rest of your acceptance speech is short, sweet, and to the point. The timer on one of the teleprompters definitely motivated you to speak quickly.

As you walk away with your award, music plays behind you. A stage manager comes up to you and ushers you through the wings.

Several more congratulations come your way, you respond to each of them humbly.

You turn a corner and are met with a cheer even louder than the one from the auditorium full of people.

All eight members of Stray Kids are clapping for you, jumping up and down in excitement. Your enthusiasm immediately matches theirs as you come up to them.

“I can’t believe it!” you say loudly, holding the award out to look at. “I think I’m dreaming!”

You turn and look up at Hyunjin, “Pinch me, I have to be asleep!”

He laughs at you and lightly grabs your arm. You yip dramatically and look back down at the trophy. “Nope, definitely awake!”

“If you guys would please find your seats, we need to clear this hallway.” a stagehand ushers your group away. He turns and looks down at you with a soft smile, “They wouldn’t leave until you came back.”

“Aww,” you coo to all of them. Your arm wraps around Jeongin’s, who happens to be the closest at the moment. “You guys are too sweet!”

Your head rests on his arm and you hug it close as a thank you. He pats your hand and bends his arm to escort you back to your table.

A pair of deep brown eyes burn into the side of your head the more you grab onto Jeongin. Not that you noticed.

Walking through the hallways, you see one back hall that has signs for the bathroom.

“Actually, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room before going back to the table. I’ll meet you guys back there. Do you mind taking this back to the table for me?”

You drop Jeongin’s arm and hold the trophy out to him. The maknae is hesitant, but takes your award anyway. You laugh at him and rub his arm before you head back to the bathroom.

“Am I allowed to be holding this?” he asks as you walk away.

The venue was a grand, old hotel, you follow so many twists and turns to get to the bathroom. Was there even one back here?

Did you take a wrong turn? There aren’t even workers back here.

You definitely aren’t supposed to be back here. Turning back and finding another bathroom is probably the best option at this point.

A gentle grasp on your wrist makes your heart jump and a gasp tear from your throat. Frightened, you turn around and raise your hand to hit whoever snuck up on you.

“Y/N! It’s just me!” Chan says quickly, cowering behind his hand just in case you still swing.

“Ugh, Chan! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, I called your name a few times, I guess you didn’t hear me.” You shake your head, he sucks his teeth. “That explains it. Staff told me there’s no bathroom down here, I wanted to grab you before you got too lost.”

Chan chuckles nervously, you laugh too. “That explains it. I guess those signs must’ve been extras that they printed for the venue. Who knows?”

It’s now that you notice he’s still holding your wrist tightly in his hand. His hand is so warm, so soft.

He nervously licks his lips and his eyes look all around the hall, anywhere but at you. His throat bobs with a gulp.

“I don’t ah— I don’t believe I gave you a proper congratulations. So, congratulations on the award. You deserve it.”

“Oh!” You giggle. “Thank you! And a hearty congratulations to you as well, I can’t think of anyone who’s worked harder than you guys.”

Taking another step closer to him, you turn your wrist around and take a hold of his hand.

“I also can’t think of any other celebrities I would want to celebrate with.” The corners of your lips pull into a grin, Chan’s twitch as well. “You guys are so sweet, cheering for me. Made the win that much better.”

Slowly, his ears begin to turn red and his jaw clenches a few times. His chocolate brown eyes flit all over your face and around the hall. His nerves on clear display.

“Yeah, well, you deserve it, so.” Chan clears his throat and adjusts the tie around his neck. “I can’t take credit for it, it was Changbin’s idea to wait for you and all.”

You reach up on your toes and press a long, soft kiss to his cheek. With his lips right by your ear, you’re able to hear him gasp under his breath and then stop breathing.

Underneath your lips, you feel how much heat is radiating off his smooth skin. It’s like you kissed a frying pan.

“Thank you, Channie,” you whisper against his skin.

The hand around yours twitches and tightens.

You press another kiss to his cheek before going to back away.

Quicker than you can blink, Chan’s free hand comes around your body and holds you against him. His hand curls around you to press into the small of your back.

Your head tucks under his chin, ear against the dip of his throat. His heart is beating just as fast as yours.

“Not yet,” he whispers so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “Please, not yet.”

Your heart thuds in your chest at his words. How could you not? The Bang Chan is asking you to stay closer to him for just a little while longer. The same man you’ve admired from a distance for years.

The man who created such a deep parasocial relationship with you that it took a lot of self reflection to bring yourself out of it. And now, here you were, in his arms in real life, tucked away in the hallway of this hotel.

Smelling his expensive cologne and aftershave, listening to his shallow breathing, the entire world seems to stop. If your past self could see this, she’d probably pass out.

Hell, you might pass out now.

You squeeze his hand once and he responds with a grip of his own.

Slowly, you pull your head back to gaze up at him. He stares down at you with the most thoughtful expression.

Eyes are windows to the soul; and right now, his soul is so flustered and fulfilled at the same time.

“I can’t believe tonight is real,” you murmur.

Several times, you catch Chan’s eyes flicking down to your lips. Each stolen glance adds another butterfly to your stomach.

His hand on your back pulls you even closer.

“You keep talking as if you’re not one of the biggest names in the world right now.” he teases and you chuckle softly. “If anyone should be pinching themself, it’s me.”

His breath is cool and minty. Yours is tinged with espresso.

Your tongue comes out and licks your bottom lip before you pull it between your teeth. Chan watches, trying not to make it obvious.

“Can I try something?” Your question is deathly quiet. If it wasn’t for the silence of the hallway, there’s no way he would have heard it otherwise.

“Yes,” he replies immediately. It comes out as a huff; quick, short, and desperate.

“Close your eyes, Chan.”

He listens right away, his eyes snapping shut.

You hesitate for a split second, just taking in his ethereal beauty. Every curve of his gorgeous, blemish free face. It’s not fair.

Both of his hands twitch, his jaw clenches.

You lean up slowly and press a featherlight kiss on his plush lips.

His shoulders seem to sag inwards, a large, relieved exhale leaves his nose.

Fireworks explode behind your eyes, tingles shoot down into your fingertips.

You pull back after a second, his eyes open a bit and Chan stares down at you, his lips parting for a moment.

He stares intently into your eyes, as if trying to read you or see something within them.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans down and kisses you again. You melt into the kiss with half lidded eyes, they unfocus as you fall further into his kiss.

Chan pulls back for a moment to turn his head and capture your lips once more, his bottom lip slotting between yours.

Both of your eyes shut.

Your hands move and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

Chan holds your waist with both hands, the heat from his hold going right through your dress.

Each kiss is hot and heavier than the last. His grips at your dress grow needier and needier by the second, he can’t hold you close enough to his body.

Within moments, you’re both opening and closing your mouths, with open mouthed, wet, sloppy kisses. His eyebrows pull together.

Erotic pants fill the empty hallway.

You ever so gently bite down on his bottom lip and pull your head back.

Chan sighs and his half lidded, hazy eyes look down into yours as his lip snaps back after you release it.

He takes two long steps and walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips before capturing them in another heated kiss. “You’ll have to tell me. I can’t do it myself. Not when I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Your fingers thread up through his hair on the back of his head and you pull him closer against you.

Tangled tongues and gentle grunts mix together.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” you ask lowly in between kisses.

Chan groans and presses his entire body into yours.

You felt like you’re on fire with the way you’re so feverishly pulling him closer.

One his hands moves up and down your waist. The puffiness of your skirt getting in the way of his hips grinding directly into yours.

“So beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “So gorgeous.” Kiss. “Wanted you for so long.”

It’s your turn to moan at his praise, you suck on his tongue and his eyes roll back in his skull.

When you pull away from each other panting, you look around in the hallway. There’s a door right next to you both, where it leads, you’re not sure.

Chan kisses your cheek and then makes his way down your neck with his lips.

“Chan,” you moan out.

“Yeah, baby?”

Fuck. That goes right to your head and makes your stomach flip.

He presses another wet kiss to your exposed collarbone and your head tilts back, knocking against the wall. He’s making it impossible to try and get any words out.

The hand on your ribcage squeezes when you let out a breathy exhale.

“Did you need something?” he mouths against your neck and bites down right after.

Oh, that cocky motherfucker.

“Fuck, Chan…!” You pull at his hair.

He brings his head up with a dopey look on his face, eyes half lidded and hazy.

“Hm?” he hums and leans in, pressing another kiss to your check.

One of your hands comes down and runs over his chest. You grab a hold of his tie and twist it around your hand before yanking on it. Your lips are right next to his ear and you make sure to let out hot exhales.

Chan gasps and presses a hand on the wall next to your head to keep his balance. A shiver wracks his body.

“You’re starting something you can’t finish.” The low, gravel timbre of your voice shocks even you for a moment. It’s raspy and sexy. It has an effect it has on Chan immediately. His pupils dilate and he takes a sharp intake of air.

“Oh, princess,” Chan bites your earlobe before blowing against it lightly. “I’ve never started something I didn’t intend on finishing.”

God, his voice. It’s like running your fingers over velvet. You yank his tie to the side and drag him towards the room like he’s on a leash.

Chan lets out a surprised grunt, but follows you nonetheless. Just like your little puppy begging you for your attention.

The entire walk over to the door, his hands are on your body. Anywhere Chan can reach, he’s touching you.

When you push open the door, you’re happily surprised to find an empty dressing room. All the lights are off– perfect.

Once you both are inside, the door shuts and you push Chan against the back of it. Your lips desperately smashing together.

He’s everywhere on your body. His hands don’t stay in the same place for more than two seconds before he’s groping somewhere else.

Blindly, he reaches for the door handle and clicks the lock in place.

Your fist is still tightly curled around his tie, you wind it around your hand a few more times while your tongues tango. Sinfully wet noises emanate from your locked lips. Your other hand runs down his chest to unbutton his blazer.

Chan pushes off the wall and shucks the blazer off his shoulders, dropping it onto the ground.

Never once do his lips leave yours. He’s intoxicating, you can’t get enough and neither can he.

He backs you up again until your ass hits a counter.

In one smooth movement, Chan reaches down and grabs your waist and lifts you onto the countertop. Your legs part and he stands in between them.

“This fucking dress,” he growls against your lips and nips your bottom one lightly. Desperately, he begins grabbing at the fabric, bunching it up around your hips. Underneath, you’re still clothed in stockings, corsets, spandex shorts, and many more.

He doesn’t seem to care. With both hands now grabbing your nylon-clad thighs, he brings both of your legs to wrap around his waist.

As soon as both of your hips meet, moans leave both of your mouths and you swallow each other’s. He’s hard as a fucking rock against you. So many layers of clothing separate the two of you from one another, it’s endlessly frustrating.

You pull his tie even tighter and one of his hands comes down to grip the edge of the counter for balance.

Your hips roll against his once and he has to tighten his grip so much his knuckles turn white.

“Do it again,” he whines against your mouth.

Who are you to say no?

Again, you roll your hips up into his. This time, his hard cock rubs right against your clothed clit. It’s just enough to send a ripple down your legs and into your toes and they curl in your Prada heels.

You don’t stop in between hip rolls this time, you do it again and again and again. Each one feels better than the next.

It’s like your head goes underwater, deep within the riptide of the oceans of pleasure.

And by the noises that are coming out of Chan’s mouth, you know he feels the same way.

His hips begin to meet your thrusts with his own. Both of you are grinding into each other like teenagers in your parents’ basement.

But you both are so needy at this moment that you’ll take anything you can get to scratch that insatiable itch.

With each thrust, his exhales get heavier and heavier, whimpers and whines come out in between them.

Your head kicks back against the mirror behind you after one particularly delicious roll. There’s no way you’re even on planet Earth right now with how much he’s making your body thrum.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he moans out and kisses your bare shoulder.

You pull on his tie absentmindedly while you cry out when he thrusts even harder.

“Wanna hear those moans with you on my cock,” he hisses when your legs tighten around his waist. “If I’m making you feel this good without touching you, think of how loud you’ll scream when I can finally fuck you into my mattress.”

“Chan-!” you whimper, your eyes squint closed, mouth falling open.

How is he so fucking good at this? Those dancer hips are merciless. It sends just the right amount of pleasure through your body.

“You know that Vogue photoshoot you did last month?” he moans into your ear, his lips right next to it.

Your Vogue photoshoot was a borderline boudoir shoot. Only a black sheet covered you in most of your shots.

All you’re able to do is whine out an “uh-huh”.

“Babygirl, I can’t even think about that shoot without my cock getting hard. God, fu–huck! Shit.”

He’s going to make you cum just by grinding on you. You can feel it coming closer and closer.

One of his hands travels up your body to grab at the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jawline while he licks and nips at the other side.

“Want you to pose like that for me. I want you all to myself.” He sounds like he would eat you whole if he could. And fuck, you would let him.

He could tell you to get on your knees and bark right now and you would.

“Close, Chan…” you whimper.

Just hearing that he’s going to make you cum makes his eyes roll in his skull. Every single wet dream of his is coming true under his own two hands. He has Y/N L/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, his cock pressed against her clothed cunt, her skin in his mouth.

Is this what winning felt like?

“You gonna cum for me babygirl?” he hisses and bites your neck.

“Yes! Shit! Don’t stop, please!”

When you try to meet his thrusts, your hips stutter, they’re unable to keep up with how fast he begins moving.

“Need you to cum, babygirl, need it so bad. Need it like I need oxygen.” Chan’s hand moves and he pulls your lips together.

He’s all consuming.

Three more thrusts and your body seizes, your orgasm gripping you so tightly that you think you might black out.

You break free from his kiss to throw your head back. It thuds against the mirror. Your legs tighten around him so much he can barely move.

Chan rolls his hips a few more times, letting you ride out your mind-blowing orgasm. Each one is slower and more sensual than the last.

After a few seconds, your legs loosen up a bit around him. Chan trails softer kisses down your neck, over both of your collarbones, then back up to your cheeks.

They’re gentle and sweet. So different from the way he was absolutely devouring you mere moments ago.

“Chan,” you pant out. “Let me help you.”

“Soon, baby. Not here.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold card– a hotel roomkey.

Chan leans forward and presses a long kiss to your swollen lips. While he’s attached to you, he slips the roomkey into the top of your dress where your breasts sat.

“The Mark, room 103. Fuck The Plaza, you have your own afterparty to attend to.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan #fanfic

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puck-luck · 17 days

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horror movies & puppy dog eyes | nico hischier

warnings: use of y/n, oral (m receiving), use of pet names, telling your crush/roommate you like them (very scary, but it goes well here!), begging (ish? Nico is giving sub in this), spelling of cum as come because i think "cum" looks ugly pairing: nico hischier x reader summary: the one when you and nico get a little too close on the couch, the tension between you finally breaks and you tell (& show) each other how you feel. wc: 2511

You’d known Nico for years, having met him while out for a jog back in the preseason of his rookie year for the Devils. It was one of those serendipitous moments when you were in a rare fitness mood and you happened to bump into a cute boy in one of the parks about a mile away from your apartment. You’d stopped running by then and slowed your pace to enjoy the scenery from a bench to catch your breath. Nico, being the precious angel he is, had stumbled and almost fallen right in front of you. You laughed, he blushed, you introduced yourself, and he gave you his number by the end of the conversation.

You two hadn’t become friends right away, considering how busy he was with his rookie year. They made the playoffs that year, but lost early on. It was the postseason after Nico’s rookie year when you two got close, hanging out when he was in Jersey and texting and calling each other when he wasn’t. When you told him you were looking for a new place to live because you were tired of your old roommate, he offered you his spare bedroom. It was in that apartment that you started watching the Devils because of Nico and it became a habit. You liked that you could talk to him about his game and he would explain things to you that you didn’t understand.

When he was named captain in 2021, things started to change between you two. It was the first time that the line started to blur between friendship and romance. You had popped a bottle of champagne as he walked through the door, you’d hung streamers from the ceiling, and you’d blown up a few balloons that were littered along the entryway. Nico was tired and you could tell, but when he saw you cheering for him with an overflowing bottle of champagne, he’d never felt so alive. The thing is, even as big of a rush as it was, you and Nico ended up cuddling on the couch into the early morning. He had a game in Washington the next day, which they lost, probably in part because of how late you had kept him up. You both knew better, but with Nico’s head on your chest and your fingers in his hair, it was too comfortable to move. You two fell asleep right there and woke up entangled. Even now, years later, that night leaves butterflies in your stomach.

You had never acted on your feelings for Nico and he had never made any move on you. After living together for almost five years, you two had fallen into an easy routine and romance would only mess that up.

Sometimes, though, like today, it was really hard to keep yourself off of Nico.

His eyes were just so brown today, his hair was falling in his eyes just right, his dimples were showing when he smiled (with his pearly whites!) at you, his accent was peeking out more than you were used to, and you only noticed all of this once you had stumbled into the kitchen for coffee and he had returned from his early workout. He was all sweaty and muscular and you were staring, of course you were. Look at him. You couldn’t help it.

You weren’t the only one, to be fair. When you had stumbled into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you were wearing one of Nico’s old shirts and your underwear. He was used to it, but the shirt had his number on the shoulder, and something squeezed at his heart when he saw you walking around with his number on, like you were really his. The sleepy smile you gave him after he sat you down at the counter and poured coffee for you was like a gift, too.

“What are you up to today?” Nico asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well. He blew on the hot surface of the liquid before taking a sip and burned his tongue anyway, but shook it off.

You hummed, shrugging noncommittally. “I’m working from home today, then we can hang out. Watch a movie?”

“Movie would be nice,” Nico replies. “Anything you’d like to see?”

“You pick,” you tell him. “I’m going to go hole up in my room for a bit. I’ll see you over work, okay? Take a break around noon for lunch. Will you be here?”

“I’m going to the rink in an hour or so. I’m meeting with some of the guys to run some extra drills and watch film. I’ll have whatever they have in catering.”

“Okay.” You hop down from your seat at the counter, walk around to grab a granola bar from the cabinet behind Nico. He places a hand on your other arm as you reach around him out of instinct, not intent, but he purposefully lets it linger a second longer than necessary. You press your lips together to keep any noise you might make inside of you and pull away.

“Later?” Nico asks again, voice soft. His eyes are imploring and, if you’re not mistaken, a little heated.

The spot where his hand had rested almost burns with the lack of touch. “Later,” you agree, and because he’s not the only one that can make someone feel like they’re burning up, you lean up and brush your lips over his cheek.

It leaves a small smile on his face and you don’t look back as you walk away.

After work, Nico cooks dinner for the two of you and you settle on the couch, rubbing your eyes out of exhaustion. You’d been staring at your computer screen all day, ironing out details of the latest project your boss had assigned you. It was tiresome and your eyes felt like they had been way overworked. It’s only a matter of time after this movie starts that you fall asleep.

Nico presents you with your plate and set his own on the coffee table, heading back to the kitchen to fetch your drinks. You weren’t overindulging, but Nico had picked out a red wine that paired nicely with the meal he had prepared, and you were always down for a drink and a movie.

Unfortunately, it was like Nico had something out for you, because he decided he wanted to watch a horror movie tonight. You were bundled up on the couch, eating your food, when he turned on a movie he knew you wouldn’t like, but you had told him he could choose… so you were stuck with it.

It was more of a psychological horror than one that relied on cheap scares and you really tried not to pay attention because you knew the movie would freak you out if you let it. Instead, you decide to focus on Nico.

He's barely reacting to the horror movie, just watching it with a straight face that occasionally turns inquisitive. His hand rests on the back of the couch behind you, so close to being around you. You're just so aware of him at all times. His presence is so commanding. You bite the inside of your cheek as you sneak a glance at him, focusing on the skin of his thigh that is revealed by his gym shorts.

He catches you staring once you didn’t jump at one of the very few scares in the movie.

“What are you looking at?” Nico asks, bringing his arm down to wipe at his thigh, assuming he had dropped some crumbs on it or something and not noticed.

You shake yourself out of it. “Zoned out, I guess.”

Nico cuts his eyes at you, but lets it go.

After a few more minutes, you find your eyes drifting back to Nico’s lower half. He shifts down on the couch and rests one of his heels on the coffee table, the other still on the floor. His legs were spread deliciously wide in typical man behavior and normally you’d roll your eyes, but something about it today made your stomach turn. Your eyes grow wider when Nico reaches around and puts his arm around your shoulders instead of the back of the couch.

“You okay?” He asks, pulling you closer to his side and giving you a little squeeze.

“Distracted,” you reply. You rub at your eyes for emphasis. “Tired.”

“Poor girl.” Nico rubs your arm and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Just give me a hug,” you say softly, cozying up to him. You wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head right on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, strong and solid. You close your eyes and focus on that, the beat of it tiring you and lulling you into that weird in-between state of not-quite consciousness and not-quite sleep. Nico’s arm is solid around you and he smells good, manly.

You sigh, throwing a leg over his thigh. He places his other hand on the curve of your knee and pulls your leg higher.

“Y/N,” Nico murmurs quietly.

“Nico,” you reply in the same tone, opening your eyes and looking up at him.

He looks tormented.

You push back from him, but he keeps a harsh grip on your thigh to keep you from getting any distance from him. “What?” You demand, hands on his chest. The concern on your face leaks into your voice. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whispers.

“What? What’s wrong?” You squirm away from him. “Did I do something?”

This time, Nico stays silent for just a moment too long. You look over him, trying to get some clue as to why you’ve upset him. His hands are resting on his lap and you’ve seen this move before, so your eyes linger before you look up at him.

His cheeks and the tips of his ears are burning red. “I’m sorry.” The words rush out of him in one fell swoop. “I know we’re just friends, I just didn’t mean…”

“Nico,” you interrupt, but can’t find any other words. You stare at each other, nothing but the stillness of your breath between you.

“Please.” He deflates as the word leaves him.

“Nico,” you repeat. You shift closer to him and move his hands from his lap, getting an eyeful of his bulge. When your eyes return to his face, he’s blushing even more than before, but his expression is less grave. It’s more hopeful.

“Is this…?” He asks, reaching out to touch you, but pulling back at the last second.

“Yes,” you answer, settling yourself in his lap and leaning in until your lips just barely brush against his. “If you want it.”

His breath catches. “Need it,” he admits, voice breaking. “Needed you since– God, forever.”

“Me too.”

His eyes search your face, brown and bright and pure, and he leans forward that last millimeter until you’re kissing. His lips slide over yours softly, like he’s mapping out every curve and memorizing it in case he never gets the chance to kiss you again.

You pull away and kiss over his features– a kiss to his nose, to his temples, to his forehead, to his cheeks, his eyebrows, the corners of his lips. When you sink lower to his jaw, feeling the stubble against your skin, it’s like the dam breaks.

“Thought about this so much, all the time,” Nico admits, breathless as you continue to kiss him and grind down slowly on his lap. His hands find your ass and he clutches at you. “Dreamt of it.”

“What did you dream about?” You mumble against his Adam’s apple, running your hands along the ridges of his abs. “Tell me, Neeks.”

“Fucked my hand so many times thinking about your mouth, Y/N,” he says. “Worried you’d hear me saying your name from across the hall.”

“I wish I had,” you slide off the couch until you’re between his thighs. You rub over the downy hair on his thighs, the same hair that caught your attention tonight in the first place. “I would’ve come over and shown you that the real thing was better than your imagination.”

He lets out a loud moan at that, reaching down to brush your hair out of your face. He looks down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His puppy-dog eyes never leave you, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear if he blinks for a second. He lifts his hips and you shimmy his shorts and boxers down at the same time to reveal his cock.

Your hand circles the base of his length and you take the tip in your mouth, sucking lightly until his hips buck up with pleasure. You pull off and kiss his slit, licking the precum up when it bubbles out. His cock jumps when you trace the vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue and cup his balls.

You blink up at him and bite your bottom lip coyly. “Tastes good, Neek.”

“Baby,” he whimpers. He lifts his hips. “Don’t tease.”

“Sorry, love,” you apologize. “Let me make you feel good.”

You lower your mouth onto his cock again, bobbing your head and working the bit that you can’t fit into his mouth. He tries to keep himself still, but he can only do so much until he’s bucking up into your mouth and chasing his orgasm like a man starved. You let him thrust up, loving the sounds he’s making.

He moans and whines the way you imagined he would, still in the habit of trying to keep quiet so that he doesn’t alarm his roommate. You’ll tell him after that it’s okay, especially now that you know how he feels and he knows how you feel. You’ll talk about it more after, you know you will, but right now, you just want to make him come.

You pull off and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him at a fast pace. “Gonna come, Nico?”

“Uh huh,” he groans, his hips stuttering as it becomes too much for him. “Y/N, I–” He cuts himself off with a strangled moan as he shoots off, his seed spilling over your hand and onto his stomach.

You let him breathe for a minute, catch his breath. When he opens his eyes, he catches you licking the come off your hand. His cock gives a halfhearted twitch, but he can’t go again quite yet. Plus, his mind is turning with all the ways he imagined getting you off. He had dreamt of so many things he could do to you, but his favorite fantasy involved repaying the favor: getting his mouth on you.

Nico pulls you up from where you sit and lays you down on the couch, spreading your legs. “I love you,” he whispers and presses a kiss to your thigh. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you, Nico.”

notes: here we go again, readers. in my own personal headcanon, nico is just a sweetie pie who needs some lovin from his girl (my man, my man, thank you to my man). once again, blessings to @johncena2020 for reading the fic before it was posted on her lunch break & helping me with a title. ONCE AGAIN, thank you to wheelofnames.com for picking which boy i wrote about today. originally, you chose trevor (i can't blame you), but two trevs in one day is wild for a new blog. waiting for the day the spinner wheel chooses quinn and i indulge in writing some of my favorite things (to be revealed). also, where are all the new fics? what am i supposed to read during my 9-5? the stuff i've already read? blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. loving you guys. xo! <3

#puck-luck's fics #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #andy writes anything🍄

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httpsleclerc · 6 months

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☾you've got a 9 to 5☽

in which sebastian and his ex-wife are still in love with each other

c/w: angst, mentions of an absent father (not intentionally), divorce

w/c: 1k words

based on this request

You hated that you still loved your ex-husband, your first love, your first everything - He was everything to you. You had taken the heartbreaking decision to file for divorce from Sebastian when he had signed for Aston Martin, you couldn't bare to spend more time alone than you already did due to the nature of his care, as much as it broke your heart to make the decision that you did, you knew that you had to; otherwise you would end up in a vicious cycle of loneliness, spending nights upon nights sleeping in what felt like an empty bed without your husband.

You sighed as you sat down on the couch, the days events finally catching up with you since you didn't have a minute to rest. Between work and your other commitments, you found yourself rarely having a moment to yourself these days - and it was on these days you found yourself missing Sebastian, missing the way that he would make all your worries disappear in an instant and missing the immense comfort he provided. As if adding salt to the wound, you turned the TV channel from some kids channel and you saw his face.

Up upon the podium stood your ex-husband, his trademark mile wide grin on his face as he held the first place trophy, raising it up above his head in celebration. Watching him broke your heart all over again, you remembered his red bull days when you were both young, head over heels in love with each other, barely married and dumb with love - He dedicated every podium win to you, claiming that you were his good luck charm wherever he was, even if you couldn't be with him. You felt your eyes welling up with tears as you watched him pop the bottle of champagne, of course the first race you managed to watch following your divorce, he would win, just your luck, right? Right.

For some reason, you felt like torturing yourself even more than you already were by even just watching the race, and decided that you would watch the post-race interviews, just because you felt like driving the knife already deep in your heart, in even further. You watched Sebastian talk with an interviewer about how the race had gone, how he felt about winning.

"And it was never any secret that you always dedicated your podiums to your wife, Y/N, is that still something you do?" You felt your heart stop at the question. You and Sebastian had been very quiet about your divorce and had managed to keep it under wraps, neither of you wanted something as heartbreaking and difficult as this out in the world, no, that was your business, no one else's. Sebastian gave a nervous chuckle and then a smile, he knew he had to be honest, and he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, hoping that if you were watching that you would see how sincere he was being.

"Yes of course, I love Y/N very much," He stopped there for now, feeling himself well up at the fact that he still held so much love for you, yet his career had driven you away from him. He understood though, your decision had torn you apart and you knew that he loved you, you just couldn't handle him being gone more than he was around. "I dedicate this, and every podium to her, I love her so much." Sebastian smiled, tears in his eyes as he finished up with the interviewer.

You couldn't hold it together any longer, feeling your strength dissolve, you burst into tears at his confession - He still loved you and probably always would. Over your crying, you missed the sound of the footsteps coming towards you, only looking up when you felt two small hands patting your hair.

"Mama?"

You looked up at your daughter, who was her fathers spitting image - curly blonde hair, the same stunning blue eyes, she was all Sebastian.

"You okay?" Her small voice was laced with concern as she saw your tear stained face, a small pout on her face as she feared what had upset her mama. You sniffled as you nodded, lifting her up for her to be sitting on your lap, leaning on your chest.

"I'm okay, baby, I promise," You assured her, smoothing her hair down. "You're not sleepy, huh? Too much sugar at your birthday party I think, princess," A small smile graced your face at her small giggle and the shake of her head. "Mhm, yeah, I think so."

"No, mama," She replied, giggling as you tickled her sides. You swore hearing your little girls laughter almost made you forget how much you missed her father. "Why wasn't papa at my party, mama?" She turned her big blue eyes up at you, a sad pout on her face at the absence of her beloved papa from her 5th birthday party. You swallowed the lump in your throat that appeared at the sudden emergence of her question. "Did he not want to be there?"

"No, Meine Liebe, your papa had a race this weekend, but I promise you when he gets back on Monday he'll here to pick you up and you get to spend the whole week with him, doesn't that sound fun?" You told her, watching as she perked up a little at the mention of getting to spend a whole week with her father. "He is really sorry that he couldn't be there today, honey, he can't help it." First you were making excuses for him to yourself, and now you were making them to your daughter, the tiny human that you had created together.

"I miss him, mama," She said, giving you a tired yawn as she rested her head on your shoulder, sleepiness finally catching up with the small girl. You sighed sadly.

"I know, I miss him too baby girl."

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 angst #sebastian vettel x reader fluff #sebastian vettel x reader angst #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader #dad!Sebastian Vettel #formula one x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

Note

Hey, could you maybe write something and the reader being a driver on the grid and maybe either drying the drivers parade or interviews where she is surrounded by the boys ( Lando, charles, George, idm who else ) and maybe she starts to feel unwell and faints so the boys look after her. Hope this is okay x

It's not that it was a particularly hot day, but the constant changing weather of the track was giving you a hard time. The constant pressure changes of cold then hot, then humid to raining was getting to you. Something your team was well aware of when you got every chance to sit down with your head between your legs.

"Drink some water, come on." Max urges crouching in front of your chair handing you the water bottle. You say nothing, fingers tingly as you grab the water, taking slow sips. Max's fingers go to the back of your neck rubbing a pressure point. "Feels good." You mumble the fog in your brain lifting but not enough.

"Guys, the driver's parade is about to start." Christian stops, seeing the state your in. "Hey, you don't have to go." Pushing you back down, you shake it off. "No, no. If I can't attend the driver's parade, then I can't race. I'm fine." Both Max and Christian knew you weren't telling the truth.

"Watch her closely, I'd rather she not races then kill herself." Max nods, sent off with a pat on the back as you pull yourself together. Walking to towards the large bed truck you climb out, shaking out your fingers. The tingling feeling was slowly starting to grow, but you knew it was just a pinched nerve. "You alright?" Max whispers, hand on your back to stop your slight tittering.

"Of course, stop being a mother hen." Moving you head down the truck getting to where Lando, Oscar, Charles, Carlos, and Pierre were. Max was close behind you slotting in next to Lando. You lean against the railing, doing that you feel the world go forward yet you blink it away everything going back to normal.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Oscar's concerned voice has you looking up, all the drivers looking at you worried. "Yes," You groan exhausted of people asking if you're okay. "I'm just tired that's it, I can't be tired?" You snap, patience wear thin. "Hey, he's just worried. You don't need to snap at him." Lando glares, nodding at Oscar that it's okay.

"Water." Max nods at the bottle in your hand, shoving it your mouth you take slow sips from the straw but it doesn't help the fuzzy feeling filling your brain or the way you start to get tunnel vision. The truck starts to move, having your stomach lurch you grip the railing tight.

It's halfway through, Charles talking to you, but his voice turned into static about 5 minutes ago. "Fuck, she's going down." Someone curses as your world goes dark, multiple arms and accents fade out.

------------------------

It's embarrassing, passing out during the drivers parade and you were deemed unfit to drive. Having to watch the most chaotic race every instead of being in the middle of it. Max had won, tying with Seb of course no one was happy about it.

Apparently, his monotone celebration was ill-fit for what he's doing. But that's Max, you still remember him going crazy sometimes on the radio. "You should be celebrating." You grumble, looking at the dejected man in red.

"I was doomed the moment I kept going off at turn 1 during practice." Is all Charles says typing away on his phone. "So? You're talented." You argue, a smile pulling at Charles's lips. "The car is shit." You smile biting into a cracker, hating the bland taste in your mouth.

"How's sleeping beauty?" Thick puffy curls pop into the door, a smiling face of Lando before he gets tripped in Max shoving his way in. "Is she drinking enough water? Have you been lightheaded again? What about food?" Max lists off everything as Charles roll his eyes.

"You smell." You gag, the sweat, rain, and champagne was not a good mix. "Oh, I'm sorry." Max steps back, Lando snickers as Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre soon join. The other drivers had to go to interviews, but Oscar said the rest would be visiting you after.

"You don't have to stay with me." You told them later, but they said they weren't leaving until the medic said you were all good. Guess you'll have to deal with the sweaty men in your room.

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samkerrworshipper · 7 months

Text

cockblocked | sam kerr x reader

warnings: smut, strap ons, vibrators, cunnilingus (minors dni 18+)

light arsenal women x reader, just teasing fluff n fucking that you’ve all been desperate for xoxo

You’d been desperate for Sam all day. You’d woken up this morning with Sam’s lips on your neck, one of your favourite ways to wake up. Normally those events would lead to sleepy, morning sex which was always your favourite way to wake up, Sam had let her hand graze your pantyline, before withdrawing completely and leaving the warmth of your bed. You’d been annoyed, slightly hot and bothered and not at all happy with Emma Hayes for scheduling an 8am training.

You’d considered getting yourself off, dealing with the pool of wetness between your legs on your own, but you knew Sam would be disapproving of that method. So you’d forced yourself out of bed, taken a very cold shower that had done nothing to silence the sinful thoughts on your mind. Afterwards you’d thrown on some activewear and gone for your morning run, trying to distract yourself from the way that your body was on fire with the desire of being reunited with your girlfriend.

Today was your day off, generally on your days off you would still go into the Arsenal gym, get in some recovery or a light workout. Just as you’d gotten back from your run a message had gone off in your Arsenal group chat. The groupchat consisted of you Leah, Lia, Steph, Katie, Beth, Kim, Viv and Caitlin. The text was from Katie, asking if you were home and if you wanted company. You didn’t feel up for company, you felt like waiting on your couch, in Sam’s favourite set of lingerie, patiently awaiting the return of your girlfriend. You especially didn’t feel like entertaining your very energetic and annoying teammates, who you loved to death but did not feel up to dealing with. But you couldn’t tell them that, so you’d sent a thumbs up emoji and a text saying that anybody was welcome from 2pm onwards.

It had taken a lot of effort on your own behalf to get reshowered and redressed, something that you had not had in your cards for today. You’d managed though, even with the seemingly never ending dirty thoughts of your girlfriend that plagued your mind, you’d even managed to clean up your house and lay some snacks out on your dining table before people started to trail into your house.

It wasn’t uncommon for the team to congregate in your house a few times a week, Sam and you lived the closest to the Arsenal training ground, whilst also staying fairly central in London and fairly central in terms of where your teammates resided. So most nights somebody managed to trail into your house, Leah was a frequent flyer, the English captain coming over to your house most nights to eat whatever you were cooking up for dinner. You loved it, you loved that you’d found a family in your teammates, you didn’t love it though when they were essentially cockblocking me for however long they decided to stay.

Katie and Caitlin were the first to trail in, followed by Lia and Leah. Then, running fashionably late as per usual Beth, Viv, Steph and Kim made their way into your home. The women had very quickly made themselves at home on your couch and in your living room, Katie putting something on the telly and Leah popping open a bottle of champagne and handing out glasses to the group. Normally you would discourage drinking anytime before 5 o'clock, but you figured that the best game plan was to get the women drunk earlier so they had to leave earlier. Something you forgot though was that your teammates were not light weights and they limited themselves to two glasses on weekdays. Soon enough unanimously the girls decided that they wanted pizzas, so you ordered pizza.

You were a people pleaser, you were never going to deny your friends some fun team bonding, but you would have been lying if you’d felt at peace with them all being in your home. The pizza was quick to arrive and you handed out plates and cutlery to your teammates whilst they argued over what game to watch on the tv.

It was Kim who approached you in the kitchen as you laid out the different boxes of pizza.

“Everything alright, y/n?”

You’d been a little bit scared by your captain's appearance.

“Why? Is anything wrong?”

Kim smiled lopsidedly at you, concern laced in between her brows.

“No, but you look a bit on edge, if you don’t feel up to having us here you can just say so.”

You frowned at Kim, you didn’t want to make the girls feel unwelcome, you just wanted some TLC with your girlfriend and it was all you could think of.

“I want you guys here, it’s just that, well it’s stupid.”

Your eyes flashed down to your watch, it was 4.30 and Sam was due to be home around six. She’d texted you to let you know that her and Millie had some media stuff to do, so she would be home later than normal, it was making you antsy though, waiting on your girlfriend like you were her stay at home wife.

“Your feelings aren’t stupid, what’s up?”

Kim jumped up onto the kitchen bench, filling the space that you had been occupied with covering in pizza boxes, stopping you from your actions so you was forced to look at the older woman. Kim was like a big sister for a lot of the girls on the team, she was always attentive, always looking for the smaller details that seemed unimportant. It was what made her such a good captain, what made her such a good person.

“Sam’s going to be home in an hour, and I love you all, but she just got back from Matilda’s camp yesterday, and she was too tired and jetlagged last night to do anything besides fall asleep on me. I love you all but I haven’t had sex with my girlfriend in a month and she teased me all morning and all I want to do when she gets home from training is make her dinner and then make love to her all night.”

Kim laughed a little bit at your words.

“You could have just said that.”

Her scottish accent was thick in her words and you frowned a little bit back at her.

“I didn’t want to upset you guys, you all come over here because you feel happy and safe, and I love that. I love having you all over, you guys are my family.”

Kim rolled her eyes, jumping off of your counter so she was standing directly in front of you, her hands resting on your shoulders.

“Kid, we come over here because you and Sam have made a space that makes us feel comfortable. But that's not to say that this isn’t you and Sam’s space and if you want some you and Sam time then there is nothing wrong with that, lord knows that you are continuously accommodating to us all, if you want space then just say so.”

You pursed your lips at Kim, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt in your gut.

“I want you guys here though, I love having you guys here, Sam loves all of you and I don’t want you all to leave, but all I’ve been able to think about all day is my girlfriend fucking me in every way I can imagine.”

Kim snorted, Sam and I’s sex life wasn’t a big secret to the group, we’d stayed in enough hotels together and fucked enough times after games for both sets of you teammates to know that you and Sam had fairly strenuous sex lives.

“How about this then, we’ll all stay, until Kerr shows up, and as soon as she does, I’ll make sure that we all leave the two of you for some much deserved sexy time, how does that sound?”

You rolled your eyes at Kim’s eyebrow raise, but smiled at her, nodding gratefully at her, feeling the pressure of having to host the group of girls lifted off of your shoulders.

“All right then, Pizza’s ready.”

The group was quick to pile into your kitchen, Katie and Leah arguing tirelessly over who got first dibs on the margherita.

You smiled at your girls, your team as they all fought lovingly over their food.

It was just as they began tucking into their food when you heard the front door opening and you shot up from your spot seated in the corner of your kitchen, running straight towards the door. Sam had just managed to get the door open, before you were jumping on top of her, taking the air out of her lungs and forcing her to drop her kit bag on the floor so she could pick you up.

“Hey joey.”

Sam’s voice was spoken directly into your ear, the warm air flushing against your ear and making you feel so much more at home then you had over the past few hours.

“Missed you.”

You could feel Sam fumbling with the doorknob behind you, trying to close the door with her limited mobility.

“I was only gone for a few hours, baby.”

You wrapped yourself even further around Sam, taking in her scent, the muskiness from her cologne, the mint from her deodorant and the coconut from her shampoo. It was everything you’d missed over the past month, everything that you loved about her.

“Needed you, you don’t want to know what you did to me this morning. The girls have been over all afternoon and I’ve been trying my hardest to get rid of them.”

Sam snorted into your ear, she loved how hospitable you were, but she knew it was mainly because of your inability to say no and you’d both recognised that sometimes it wasn’t a good thing always saying yes to people.

“Mm, did I get you all worked up? Is that pizza I smell?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s food obsession, but you couldn’t help the little gasp that left your mouth at the mention of your arousal.

“Mm, the girls ordered from Cabresos but I can get them out, please, I just want you, please just fuck me.”

All you’d wanted for the last month was Sam, any part of her that you could get and now you finally had her and you were not in the mood to share.

“No, let them stay for dinner, if you’re good then I’ll fuck you, joey.”

You whined into Sam’s neck, annoyed that your friends were still managing to find a way to cockblock you.

“Feeling whiny are we? How about you hop upstairs and put in the vibrator that I can control with my phone and you show me how much of a good girl you can be through dinner. Be a good girl for me and I’ll fuck you once the girls are gone, sound like a good idea?”

Your whole body shivered and you felt your throat dry as Sam’s words took an immediate effect on your body. She put you down on the ground, smirking at you before giving you a shove towards your shared bedroom, a fat smirk on her face as she walked into the kitchen. You could hear her almost immediately getting in a conversation with Beth as you scurried to your bedroom, walking into your walk-in wardrobe and towards the oh so familiar drawer.

You pulled out the toy Sam had told you to, shamelessly tugging down your leggings and panties down so you could slip it in. The pool between your legs was enough lubricant, making it easy enough to push the silicone bulb into your opening. It was satisfyingly good, but also nowhere near what you needed. Once it was in you pulled your leggings up, cautious of not taking too much time. You readjusted your clothing before taking a deep breath and walking back out of your bedroom and into your kitchen.

Sam was easily conversing with the girls, she’d formed quite a bond with your teammates in the two years that you’d been together, she had to or else you never would have worked out. Your team was your family, they were home for you and if she couldn’t make it work there would have been problems. You slid into a seat beside Beth, who was mouthing off to Steph about Tesco’s no longer selling her favourite protein bar or something. You just smiled at her, acting entertained by whatever she was saying. It was about halfway through Beth’s rant that you felt your whole body come alive with the sudden judder in your pussy. All of a sudden, your whole body felt the effect of the vibrations, your whole body trembling slightly at the movements. You let your eyes flash up to Sam, who looked as innocent as ever as she chatted aimlessly with Caitlin and Katie. It was a low buzz in your body, probably the lowest frequency on the vibrator, but it sent shocks up your spine regardless.

Throughout your conversation Sam would fluctuate the level, heightening it for a few seconds to get you sweating and then turning it off completely. She didn’t want to embarrass you, or get either of you caught, so she paid attention to you, when you weren’t looking at her.

You were a mess. The fluctuations from the vibrator making you horny as shit, very quick. You could feel the sweat accumulating on your back and then trembles from your thighs, the muscles working their very hardest to stop the vibrator from brushing your spot, because you knew as soon as it did you would be a goner. You made it through dinner without any major mishaps, there was one moment where Sam amped up the speed of the vibrations for five seconds out of nowhere, you managed to muffle the moan by taking a deep sip from your glass of water, becoming extremely relieved when she turned it back down.

It was after dinner, when you were beginning to show people out when she started to get cheeky. You’d been walking the girls out when she’d decided to turn the vibrator up fully, your knees almost buckled out from beneath you as you clutched to the wall of your hallway, clenching your thighs desperately to stop yourself from anything. Leah took notice almost immediately, asking if you were feeling okay, you’d nodded at her, giving her a smile and saying that you’d gotten dizzy from standing up too quickly. She seemed to accept your excuse, nodding at you and continuing to walk towards the door of your house with the rest of the crew. You glared daggers at Sam, who apparently had no plans to turn down the vibrator. You could feel it hitting your g-spot, brushing up against the sweet spot that you would normally be bewildered to have touched, but right now you were anything but.

You stumbled your way to the door, giving your goodbyes to your teammates. Sam secured an arm around your waist as the two of you waited on your porch, waving the girls goodbyes as they got into their cars and left.

You stumbled back into your house, Sam’s hand on your lower back and guiding you back, closing the door behind you before turning around and pinning you to the wall. Her lips were against yours almost immediately, ferociously nipping and sucking at your lips and face. The vibrations still hadn’t ceased and you were moaning openly into her mouth, your arousal and desire now becoming an unavoidable cloud that was washing over you with every second spent under Sam’s touch.

“Fuck-fuck Sam.”

She smirked against your lips and then with one click from her finger the buzz against your core was gone. The withdrawal of the stimulation had you groaning in loss of movement, your pussy clenching against the toy that was nowhere near enough to fill you.

“Such a good girl for me, playing well during dinner, you deserve a treat I think.”

You moaned eagerly against Sam’s lips, her words having so much control over your body and mind.

“F-Fuck, please.”

Sam smirked once again against your lips, hoisting you up into her arms and marching down towards your bedroom, dropping you down ungracefully on your bed. She joined you quickly, sitting herself down against the headboard.

“You're going to get off on my thigh, if you can do it without my help then I’ll give you my cock, how does that sound?”

You felt all the oxygen in your lungs exit, leaving you a blinking, wordless mess. All you could manage was to nod at Sam, not wanting her to think that you didn’t want what she’d told you.

“Good, strip for me baby.”

Sam was busying stripping herself, tugging off her shirt and sweatpants, leaving her in just her boxer shorts and sports bra. You did the same, except culling your bra and panties. As soon as you’d finished undressing you looked at Sam, panting as she nodded down at her thigh. You very cautiously climbed onto her extremity, moaning at the feeling of her skin underneath your sensitive pussy. You were soaked, coating Sam’s thigh in your juices as you slowly started to rock back and forth against her muscular thigh.

As soon as you started moving Sam caught you in a deep kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth as you began to push yourself down against her thigh. One of her hands found its way to your hair, swirling your strands in her hands as you started to rub yourself against her with no shame. Your head fell down to her shoulder, sloppily kissing her neck whilst moaning into her soft skin. Biting down on her neck every once and a while to suppress a guttural moan that had come directly from your chest. Sam’s other hand found its way to your back, gently guiding you to glide against her skin, pulling you a bit closer with every single movement bringing you closer to your high. Your mouth hanging open as you found one particular point in her thigh that rubbed your clit in the exactly righr way, pushing you right to the edge. Little whimpers being produced from the depths of your throat, Sam whispering gentle words of encouragement into your ear as you slowly came closer to the edge. Her telling you how gorgeous you looked and how much she wanted you to cum all over your thigh. It was what you’d been craving all day, what you’d been picturing in your head all day no matter what you’d been doing. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, beating and fluttering with every muscle that rubbed against your clit, drops of sweat dripping down your back meeting Sam’s hand which was now pushing you down even harder against her.

You could feel your thighs shaking from under you, a clear indication you were nearing your peak.

“Sam, please, please, fuck can I cum.”

My nails were clawing against her back, leaving marks that I was unapologetic for.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my thigh.”

You rode on her thigh, feeling your high overcome you. Your legs shaking almost immediately as your body recognised the high you were on.

Sam didn’t even let you recover before she was flipping you over on the bed. Her mouth falling to your hole, licking up your juices, completely ignoring your shaking legs and over-stimulated clit as she licked up the cum leaking from your hole. Her hand snaked its way up to your collarbone, caressing the skin and moving down to your breasts. You're still a moaning mess, your brain slowly turning to slush as you clutched your bedsheets from below you, your knuckles whitening from the death grip that you had on them.

“So pretty like this, fucking gorgeous spread out like a good girl who wants to be eaten. You taste like complete heaven baby girl, you’ve missed my touch haven’t you, my poor touch starved girl.”

Your back arched from the combination of Sam’s words and Sam’s hands trailing down to your stomach, her mouth still busy eating you out like a starved cavewoman. You were under Sam, completely under her control, as you cried out in pleasure from every single movement she made, not being able to process it all. Her moans against your overstimulated clit sending shocks up your entire body and exploding in your head, causing you to cry out her name every time her teeth grazed over your oh so sensitive bud.

“Please Sam, fuck me.”

Your words seem to get the point across to her, you're cum drunk but you want one thing and she’d never deny you of that. You whine as she removes her mouth from your pussy, just long enough to reach over to your bedside table and pull out your favourite strap. She makes quick work of the harness, pulling it over her hips and tightening all of the loops that she needs to before returning to your body. You are a quivering mess, tangled up in your shared bed sheets, your thighs shaking shamelessly as you await Sam.

She doesn’t waste any time. Pushing her cock between your folds and teasing at your hole before thrusting deeply into your pussy. You moan out in immense pleasure, fireworks lighting up from inside you as the desire to be filled, the need to be fucked finally falls from your body. She buries her entire length in your desperate pussy. You try to move against her, but a hand on your throat and an order for you to stay still is enough to make you obey, because you need to cum and you're not in the mood for punishment.

Sam starts with slow, agonising thrusts, her hand tight around your neck but not enough to cut off any oxygen or leave any bruises. Her free hand falls down to your tits, caressing your breast and pinching at your nipple every once a while, eliciting filthy moans from your mouth. It tows along the line of pain and pleasure, the lines blurring in your mind as the ecstasy of being fucked takes over your brain. Sam had always loved your tits.

She’d never been in it for your body, but if anybody asked what her favourite body part of yours was she’d say your tits. It was the biggest teenage boy reply ever, but it was the truth. They were so full, and so sensitive. Your nipples so reactive to any kind of contact she made with them, she was so obsessed with them that she’d made you cum on multiple occasions by just stimulating them, it was one of her favourite ways to see you get off. They were just so perfect, like the rest of your body, full but not to full, curvy but not too curvy, perky but not so perky that they looked fake.

You were in a state of pure bliss as Sam tugged you to the line of ecstasy again, you couldn’t stop moaning, biting down on her neck every time you felt a particularly sinful moan building up in your throat. Every thrust presented a new sound from you, a new pitch, a new tone, a new sound. It was music to her ears, a symphony of pleasure that she was so incredibly fond of. The slow deep strokes slowly becoming more fast and rapid, the both of you finding yourselves closer to the edge and starting to unravel as you pushed your hips against her own, meeting her on every single thrust, chasing your joint high.

“Sam-Sammy, fuck, gonna cum, fuck, mm, fuck.”

You were thrashing against Sam, your body so close to betraying you.

“You’re so good for me babygirl, so fucking good around me, fucking made for my cock aren’t you? My perfect little cockslut. Fuck, cum babygirl, cum with me.”

At Sam’s words you both came undone, your bodies riding out their highs and shaking against each other, your hips bucking against her own as your second orgasm ruined you from the inside out.

Sam slowly withdrew from you, your body cum drunk and completely spent. You mewled at her, wordlessly begging for her to return to you. Sam quickly pulled the strap from her body, undoing the harness and carelessly throwing it onto your bedroom floor, she would clean up later, right now she wanted to have her girl in her arms.

She climbed her way back up to your side, letting your naked limbs tangle together underneath the bed sheets. You leant into her body, relaxing against the toned and tanned skin of your girlfriend, the woman that you loved so much.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

Your words were murmured against your pillow lovingly, Sam smirked into your collarbone, her head leaning over the crook of your shoulder, putting her head directly against your neck.

“You know you love it, not my fault you were needy.”

The mixture of Sam’s warm breath dancing against your skin and her fingers ghosting over your skin was so perfect.

“I love that no one else gets to see you like this, that no one gets to feel you like this, they don’t get to have this part of you but I do, you're all mine.”

Your words were stuttered out between breaths and trembles, a result of the orgasms that Sam had given you. She gently leant her head to the side, pressing a series of pecks to your jawline. It was true, the world got so much of Sam, they got to see so much of her, this was the one part that you had just for you, the part that you got to be selfish over.

“I know Joey, I love you so much and I love this. But how do you feel about round two in the shower?”

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s seemingly never ending sex drive, sure you were the hornier one in the moment but once Sam started it was impossible to get her finish.

“I’d say the first one in the shower gets first taste.”

You immediately sprung off of the bed, running straight towards the shower with Sam hot on your heels, the both of you laughing as you crashed towards your joint ensuite.

#woso #woso community #arsenal wfc #sam kerr #sam kerr is daddy #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr smutttt #wlw smut #woso imagines #sam kerr imagine #woso smut #arsenal women #arsenal x reader #arsenalwfc

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harryslittlefreakk · 22 days

Text

a corner of the heath

late night talking series extra!

summary: y/n and harry’s first ‘official’ date following his wembley shows

warnings: fluff, smut (unprotected public sex & foreplay)

wordcount: 2k

a/n: i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for so long but here it is! i have two more extras planned for LNT and then we’re done <3 i can’t believe all the love on this series thank you all SO much for continuing to read and enjoy it

you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here! 🫶🏼 happy reading

“Come on, come on, come on!” You’d been trying to get through to Joanie’s phone for at least five minutes now. She had the perfect dress for you to wear, and all you had were concert outfits stained from cheap feather boas.

“Hello? Are you okay?” Joanie’s voice suddenly sounded from the other end of the phone.

“No, I’m not okay! I have a date and I need your white dress. Please please please with a cherry on top,” you babbled, setting your phone down on the counter top. “God I look like death,” you groaned, wiping your hands down your face.

“A date with Harry?!” Joanie squealed.

“Yeeeees and I might not get another one without your dress.”

“Do you want me to bring it to you? Do you need makeup? Hair stuff? Oh please let me stay while you get ready.”

“Yes for bringing it to me please, no for the other stuff, a million times yes for staying,” you laughed, Joanie’s infectious excitement starting to rub off on you. Truthfully, you dreaded the day that you stopped being nervous to see Harry. Just hearing his name gave you a rush of anxious butterflies, your heart rate quickening at the mere thought of him. It had sent you into a week-long spin, but it was a rollercoaster you never wanted to stop riding.

—

“You look so beautiful,” Joanie cooed, smoothing out the skirt of your white minidress. “Stop, you’re like my mum,” you laughed, swatting her hands away.

“Let me come with you,” she pleaded, holding up her hands in prayer. “No.”

“Please please please! It’s on my way home. I don’t even have to be with you. I’ll just look from afar and then I’ll go,” Joanie continued, a hopeful grin plastered on her face.

“He does want to meet you,” you smiled. “Fine. You can say hello and then you’re leaving - and don’t be weird. Please don’t be weird.” You held out your little finger for a pinky promise. Joanie hooked hers around yours, throwing her arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

—

“Hi, little darling,” Harry smiled when he saw you approaching, a picnic basket hanging from one of his hands. He looked delicious, a white t-shirt and linen slacks loose on his toned body. He wrapped you in a tight hug, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You look incredible,” he whispered against your skin.

When what sounded like an excited mouse squeaked from behind you, he pried his eyes from your figure to peer at your tag along. “You must be the famous Joanie,” Harry grinned, throwing an arm around her. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Joanie was bouncing on her heels silently, her grin so big it threatened to split her face in two. She started nodding like a bobble head, finally bringing herself to say hello. You shook your head, laughing as you grabbed her hand. “I’ll speak to you later, okay? Get home safe. Say hi to Tom from me.” She was still nodding and grinning as she walked away, waving mindlessly to you and Harry as you giggled.

“You are a vision,” you told Harry as you turned to him, taking his hand in yours. Harry's eyes sparkled with warmth as he gazed at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "And you are a dream," he replied, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. The sun was shining, casting a golden glow around the two of you as you stood in the park, surrounded by the sounds of nature and the distant hum of city life.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Harry reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of champagne, pulling out the cork with a satisfying pop. He poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses, handing one to you with a wink. "To our first date," he grinned, raising his glass in a toast.

You clinked your glass against his, the sweet taste of champagne dancing on your tongue. As you settled down on the picnic blanket, he held a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer to him. “Y’so beautiful, can’t get over it,” he cooed, planting 6 lingering kisses to your lips. “One for every day,” he whispered against your smile.

“Sorry about Joanie,” you cringed, screwing up your face as you thought back to her reaction to meeting him. “She’s cute,” he laughed. “I can see why you get along.”

“What do you mean? I’m way cooler than she is. Didn’t even bat an eye when I met you,” you teased.

“That’s what you think,” Harry chuckled, pulling you back into his body until your back rested against your chest. “I saw your jaw go when you clocked me.”

“Oh yeah? That’s why you took me home. Stroked your ego,” you smirked, staring out across the park.

“Oh yes. Exactly that. It’s so rare that I get to meet anyone who knows who I am.” Harry poked at your cheek playfully, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence, stray giggles escaping every few minutes.

“Do you not think it’s insane?” you asked Harry after a while, tilting your head back to look up at him. “What?”

“If neither of us had gone to that Starbucks, or even at different times, or you never needed that napkin, we’d never have met.”

Harry laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. “I never needed a napkin. Jus’ wanted to talk to you,” he confessed, a coy smirk playing on his lips. You gasped, mouth falling open as you swatted at his leg. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Couldn’t think of anything else to say,” Harry told you, his fingertips drawing patterns on your inner thigh. You leaned further back into him, a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as something buzzed inside of you. The Harry Styles, your ultimate celeb crush, had pondered over what to say to you. And now you were sitting here on your first date after a week of incredible sex and cuddles with him. If someone had come back from the future and told you all this, you’d have laughed them out the room. But it was true, it was real.

“What you thinking about?” Harry asked, his voice soft. “You,” you grinned. “Just so crazy, all of this.”

“Mhmm, I‘m crazy about you.” His fingers were trailing further up your dress, still tracing mindless patterns as he got closer to your centre. You uncrossed your legs slightly, breath catching in your throat at the thought of Harry touching you here, where anyone could see you. If it wasn’t for the wine and the high that came from his presence, you’d have clamped your legs shut and refused him entry. You’d made a silent promise to yourself to try not to sleep with Harry and treat your first date like it was the first time you’d met him. But he just did something to you, and you couldn’t resist catering to his every need.

“Gonna let daddy show you how crazy he is about you?” Harry asked, his voice suddenly low and husky.

You pulled the spare blanket he’d bought over your legs to maintain at least some decency as he pulled your panties to the side, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. Harry always navigated your body as if he’d known it in a previous life, as if it were the only body he’d ever touched. He knew your wants and needs even before you realised them, always one step ahead of you.

He pulled you back into him, his lips trailing soft kisses along your neck. His fingers worked into you, the angle pushing his palm against your sensitive clit. You were writhing under his touch, soft pants slipping past your lips. “Got to be quiet, angel,” Harry whispered against your skin, nipping at your neck. His fingers fucked into you faster, one hand wrapping around your throat to quiet you as heat spreads throughout your body. “Baby,” you whimpered softly, your hand clenching around his wrist as it moved against your pussy, the friction against your clit almost too much to take. It was warm under the afternoon sun, but the heat spreading between your legs was almost enough to burn you alive. Beads of sweat formed on your chest, your skin becoming sticky in Harry’s grip, as you tried desperately to keep your moans in.

“Want more, Harry,” you moaned, pulling his hand away. The way he could fuck you was both a blessing and a curse. His hands and mouth worked wonders, but his cock had you shaking and coming around him in minutes. If you had to choose between the two, you’d choose his cock all day long. Harry chuckled, watching as you turned around and straddled his thighs. He pressed his two glistening fingers to your lips, silently urging you to have a taste of your juices. You sucked them into your mouth, a tiny moan vibrating in your throat as your tongue licked him clean.

“Got to stay quiet now, okay kitten?” he warned, fiddling with the button on his slacks. You nodded, fluffing out the skirt of your dress as he lined himself up with your entrance, his rock hard tip already angry and red. Sex had never been a huge thing for you in relationships, and you’d certainly never been fucked as often as you had in the last week. But it was like being on a different planet with Harry, like you existed in a different reality with your needs and desires laid out before you. He was as hungry for you as you were for him, lust and yearning held in his gaze whenever he was around you.

Harry slipped into you easily, his girth no more at home than when it was nestled against your g-spot. He started guiding you with a firm hold on your hips, his mouth falling open every time you rolled against him. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, teeth tugging at your bottom lip. If anyone saw, they’d know what you were doing in seconds. But neither of you could bring yourself to care, not with the ecstasy of your bodies connected again.

His hips rutted as you locked eyes with him, your lashes fluttering as his groin rubbed against your clit. Spurred on by your choked moan, Harry held you a few inches over his cock, his finger tips digging in to the meat of your ass. He was drilling up into you, your head falling against his shoulder as you tried to hold yourself together a little while longer. “I’m not gonna last-” you panted, feeling the familiar burn spreading through your core.

“Come for me baby, let it all out,” Harry whispered into your ear. “Gonna do that f’me?”

“Yeah,” you whined, hips rolling against his in desperation to reach your climax. But his movements ceased, his cock stilling inside of you as his hand came up to clutch at your throat.

“Yes what?” Harry asked, dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes daddy,” you panted, pawing at the collar of his shirt. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as his movements resumed, his cock drilling into you with a power he’d been holding back before.

Your clit was throbbing, entrance on fire as he pounded into you, driven by a purpose now. It took one final thrust to tip you over the edge, your mouth hanging open as you mewled into Harry’s tanned skin. “Fuck, kitten,” he panted, cock twitching at your core as your walls constricted, milking him for all he had. His come was like a comfort to you at this point, a feeling you were so used to and so in love with.

You sat up on your knees and waited to him to make himself decent, cringing as your soaked panties slipped back across your entrance. When you heard his flies zip back up, you stepped off him, throwing yourself down flat onto the blanket, chest still heaving.

Harry mirrored you, his fingers finding yours as his eyes wandered over to your face. “M’gonna say it over and over - y’are completely and utterly perfect.”

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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prolife-is-prolie · 8 months

Text

I celebrated Roe V Wade being overturned. I am now being investigated for having a miscarriage.

"The happiest moment in my life was when I said "I do" to my husband seven years ago. My second happiest moment was at the Supreme Court building on June 24, 2022. Seeing an endless sea of happy, cheerful faces, the champagne bottles being popped open, watching as bubbles floated on by, the feeling was electric! Babies were going to be saved!

And then a year later, on June 24, 2023, the third happiest moment in my life occurred. The two faint lines revealed themselves on the pregnancy test. I was pregnant! Finally! After years of hoping, praying, and multiple IVF treatments, I was finally pregnant! Life was perfect. My husband took me out to dinner and he never left my side the whole night. He came home from work one day with a giant book of baby names. It didn't take us long to decide: Ophelia if it was a girl, and Benson if it was a boy.

I thanked the Lord for gifting me with a happy marriage and a baby that I prayed so much for. But the Lord had other plans. August 23, 2023, my world came crashing down. I woke from a deep sleep and was overcome with painful cramps. I looked under the blanket and was horrified by what I saw: A huge puddle of red. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet and I cried. I was having a miscarriage.

My husband woke up and noticed the puddle of blood. I've never seen him look so scared in my life. He hugged me while I sat and bled on the toilet. We then stripped down and got in the shower, where he held me, not caring about the blood running down my legs. I scheduled an emergency doctor's appointment for later in the day. The doctor confirmed our worst fear, I had a complete miscarriage. There wasn't anything more that could be done.

I sat on the table in that cold room while I waited for the doctor to come back with my paperwork. I was completely numb. I had no more tears left to cry. My husband stood by me and held my hand while we waited. And then we heard the knock on the door. We were expecting the doctor to enter. Instead, we were met with a couple of police officers.

My husband and I were escorted to the police station. It was there that we were informed that my miscarriage was deemed suspicious. The officers told us that due to the fact that we lived in a pro-life state, this was the new protocol. My husband and I were each taken to separate interview rooms, where we were questioned for six hours. I was asked a variety of questions:

What did I do the night before miscarrying?

Did I have a fall that could have caused the miscarriage?

Did I intentionally cause trauma to my abdomen to induce a miscarriage?

Did I take abortion pills?

Could my husband have slipped abortion pills into my drink?

At first, I tried to be understanding, but that quickly turned to anger. They were accusing my husband and me of purposefully killing our baby. I told the interviewer over and over that we wanted our baby and that we would do nothing to cause harm to our baby. After six hours, the questions let up. The interviewer left the room and I instantly broke down in tears again.

I cried for the baby I lost. I cried because my husband and I were being accused of killing our baby. I cried because I felt like nobody was listening to me. And I cried because this is what pro-choicers said would happen when Roe was overturned. Everything that they said would happen was happening.

Miscarriages were being investigated as murders. Children were being forced to give birth to their rapists' babies. Babies were being born and discarded in trash cans and dumpsters. And we have not done a damn thing about any of this. My husband and I were released, but not before being told that we weren't allowed to leave town due to the fact that we were being investigated.

I read articles about the women in Texas suing the state because of the anti-abortion laws. I read about the 13-year-old girl who gave birth to a baby she did not want. I read about the 11-year-old who had to flee her home state to get an abortion, only for the doctor who performed the abortion to get fined. I felt sick to my stomach reading these stories. And once again, my sorrow was replaced with anger.

I thought back to what I thought was one of the happiest moments of my life, Roe V Wade being overturned. In my mind, the happy smiles that I saw were suddenly replaced with evil snarls. The champagne that was popped was replaced with acid. The bubbles became heavy glass and they fell to the ground. My god, what have we done?

I forwarded the articles to my husband and I saw all color leave his face. The night after our interrogations, we ate dinner in silence. After knowing this man for 17 years and being married to him for seven of those years, he didn't need to talk for me to know what he was thinking. And I agreed with him:

Overturning Roe V Wade was a huge mistake."

-Constance, 37.

#pro life #pro chocie #roe v wade #roe vs. wade #abortion #anti abortion #my body my choice #fyp #fypシ

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hobvitr · 10 months

Note

can i req spiderwoman!reader whos kinda enemies/rivals with noir and they’ve been competing whos better at fighting villains and one day reader gets hurt too much and he takes care of her

spider-noir x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, kinda rivals to lovers (i don't know how to distinguish tropes damn) angst if you squint, reader gets hurt, self-depreciating joke, mentions of blood, i think that's it, unrevised writing

note: thank you for this request, he's the only man ever !! loved the idea, really. tried to not get carried away in the end (i became flustered while writing) recommended song: te amo - rihanna

being a vigilant is stressful enough, but you manage to make it fun by proving you're better at punching some asses than noir is.

everyone in the group found your relationship with noir the most entertaining thing to see. a spiderman and a spiderwoman competing to see who was better at catching villians wasn't the most common scenario someone imagine happening, and yet you two brought that to the teens lifes.

when you both met, noir wasn't the most talkative man on the presence (especially if peter b was present) but you managed to get him talk to you with your undying charm. that said charm was: your villain count. your count was higher than everyone else in the group, and that made you proud of yourself as a hero and as a woman.

"that is very close to mine" was his answer. your competitive side already starting to show with so little being said. "oh, how close?" you asked with a nudge on his arm. "two more than you." he looked down at you with his mask covering his face, but you could feel the shit eating grin he had.

alright. that was the moment you swore on your life you were going to beat this man's ass at that count. one more motive for you to do your heroic job, and it was a competition.

as you started to show your new count on beating villains, noir always came with a higher one. and that made you frustrated. on the other hand, he seemed to very much enjoy the game between you two as he was always winning, but he didn't cared as much as you did, he just found endearing making you feel competitive, felt like a instigator, and he liked it.

the day both numbers tied, you almost popped a champagne, thinking how funny it would be if you aimed and hit the bottle cap at peter's smug face (affectionately, but he doesn't have to know).

"alright, it's actually not funny when we have the same number" your cheering was slowly stopping when you realized "but i have an idea" noir raised an eyebrow underneath his mask "what is it?"

"we fight the same villain to see who wins" you suggested, shrugging your shoulders "if you win i'll kill m-"

"alright, let's not get that deep" noir cuts you mid sentence, at your not so healthy comment about the competition. you chuckle at his reaction "i'm kidding, I'll obviously win" a wink followed.

when the opportunity showed up for you two to fight together, you took as your win already. not one thing could go wrong... except it could.

as you swing between the wreckage, you took all your effort to not even let noir get close to the vulture. you wanted to handle this on your own and show that you're capable of more than him.

"i thought we agreeded to work together" noir was able to get closer to you enough for you to hear him. his voice broke all your concentration mid fight with the big ass bird, who hit you with full force by the position you were. you flew half of the place, falling so fast on top of some metal shelf that you weren't even able to stick your web somewhere to help your landing.

you feel the blood pooling on your mouth, 'that can wait' you thought to yourself, getting up almost instantly if it wasn't for the stinging pain on your ribcage.

"are you okay?" you swore you heard pure desperation in noir's voice, as he came to hold your arms and check you out for any visible wounds. "yeah, sure" you reply hurriedly, not letting him know you were feeling the most pain you experienced in your life. "I'll just.. beat him very quick I'll be right back" you pat his arm, so fast that when he registers you're already full of rage on the vulture, knocking him out and capturing him underneath a good amount of web.

"oh fuck" you hiss, pressing above the internal wound on your rib. your mask was stained with blood, your blood. noir was so fast to get to you when he noticed. "does it hurt when you breathe?" he asks, hands holding your face, making you concentrate only on him. you shake your head 'no', too weak to speak. "good, but i am taking care of you right now" he holds you bridal style.

"no way, we have to stay here until someone come take him" you try to argue with him, unsuccessfully because he was already taking you out the scene "that can wait" your eyebrows furrow, confused with him so worried. "it's not that bad..."

"it is for me" he finally stopped at what looked like the window of your apartment, you were too light headed to register. he managed to get you inside and you were laying on your bed. "can you sit?" was the first thing he asked, your vision was a little bit blurred but you tried to sit straight with his help.

"apparently yes but not really" you chuckle lightly, rubbing a hand down your face. "here, take these" he offered you some painkillers with a glass of water and you took it like a starving man. "may i..." he asks permission first to take off your mask, and you nod softly.

he lifts up your mask, extra careful with the scratches over your face, and takes it full so it don't get in his way to clean your cuts.

you suddenly feel shy at his touch, you found it cute he was taking care of you even after you were so reckless because of a little competition. he was quiet and so was you, too embarrassed to say something.

his fingers gently pressing the medicine wet cotton pad above all the cuts, you too flustered to make eye contact until you hear a low chuckle "i was so worried" he said almost like to himself, head lowered as he briefly stopped his movements, only to return when he was back looking at you.

"don't do that again, please" he pleaded, making your face go bright red, which was pretty visible with the bedside light on. "i won't" you breathed out. "may i...?" you hook a finger at the end of his mask, asking permission to take it off, which he replied with a low voice cracked "yes".

you took off the material, his face red just like yours, as he picked his glasses to put above his nose. "you're pretty" you manage to say, surprising even yourself, must be some side effects of the painkillers you took.. is what you think, but you couldn't deny his beauty either way.

"you're prettier" you don't feel the warmth of the cotton no more, you feel the warmth of his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. "is cuddling included in taking care of me?" you tease while smiling from the contact, and inciting a chuckle from him. "you want it to be?" he boldly teased back, making you hide your face under your hand.

"now that you clearly flirted back with me i may want it, yes" you reply with a light shrugg of your shoulders as if it was nothing, but your face showed the opposite.

he supports his weight on his arms, hands on the bed at each side of you, his face leveling with yours, few inches close "on it, doll".

#spider noir x reader #spider noir x you #across the spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #into the spider verse #itsv x reader #fem!reader #spider noir #peter benjamin parker #spider man across the spider verse

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thisapplepielife · 4 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Go With This

Prompt Day 30: New Year's Eve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Underage Drinking, Weed, Off-Screen Sex While Under the Influence | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, New Year's Eve Party, All the Teens, Kissing at Midnight, Getting Together, Morning After, Eddie POV

"Gareth, no!" Eddie screams, as he steps through the doorway, but it's too late. The bottle of champagne pops open, exploding all over Steve's kitchen.

"Oh, fuck!" Gareth says, trying to control the spray, but it's useless. He's making it worse instead of better. Gareth didn't shake it up on purpose, but Eddie watched him poking at the cork with his pocket knife and knew something bad was gonna happen.

Gareth is flailing around, shouting, "I'm sorry!"

Steve's already waving him off, grabbing a towel off the counter, then some paper towels, and finally the mop for good measure. It's going to be a goddamn sticky mess when it dries, that's for damn sure.

"It's okay," Steve says, but Eddie can see that his jaw is tense, clenched.

They didn't even ask if they could have New Year's Eve here at his house, they all just decided that's what they were doing, and made Steve go with it.

Eddie gets down and tries to help wipe it up, but he's pretty faded. Argyle brought the good shit, and Eddie's been going out back with him and Jonathan all night long.

But, Steve smiles at him, so maybe Eddie isn't on Steve's shit-list.

The ball drops, and it's 1987. He made it through 1986, thank fucking Christ. Eddie watches everyone take turns kissing each other. Weird. He thinks he could have lived without seeing Nancy kiss Jonathan, and then Steve, back-to-back. But then she kisses Argyle, and Argyle kisses Jonathan as Nancy kisses Robin.

Is this an orgy?

Was Eddie invited to an orgy and didn't know it?

Or, do preppy kids have a version of key parties? Eddie looks for a fishbowl.

Gareth gawks at him, like, what the fuck and Eddie stares. He doesn't know either. Clearly not wanting to be left out, Gareth kisses Goodie, much to Goodie's chagrin. Jeff just laughs, and then kisses Eddie, and it's weird, but okay, he guesses.

Then, Nancy presses her lips to his.

He's kissed Nancy Wheeler now. In what world?

But, okay. That's okay, too, he supposes.

It wasn't sexual. He's sure of that, and if he had any concerns, they'd have evaporated a second later, once he sees Robin kiss Steve. It's the weirdest thing he's seen yet, even if it's only a hard pucker of a kiss that nobody would ever mistake for being romantic. It looked more like a hostage situation, and Robin immediately wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, hard.

"Rude," Steve says, and Robin laughs.

Then, Steve looks at him, and Eddie falters.

Steve's gonna kiss him.

Eddie watches Steve lean in, and Eddie doesn't know if he needs to go with this, or flee the country. It's too late to choose, because Steve presses his lips to Eddie's, and Eddie's hand isn't connected to his brain anymore, because he lifts it, cupping Steve's neck.

Steve startles, but only for a second, then opens his mouth over Eddie's, and now they're kissing kissing. Not just the friendly peck Steve offered everyone else.

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

Eddie tries to extract himself from this, but Steve's fingers are digging into his back, and Eddie can feel everyone's eyes on them. They're never gonna live this down.

Steve finally lets him go, and Eddie makes a move to step away, but Steve grabs his hand.

"Happy New Year," Steve says to the room, and heads for the staircase, dragging Eddie along behind him.

Oh shit.

But Eddie follows, willingly. Letting Steve pull him to his bedroom. Letting Steve yank his shirt over his head, letting Steve press kisses to his chest, his scars. Hands roaming, both of them pulling off clothes, grabbing at each other.

This is really happening.

Eddie tries to toe off his Reeboks, but realizes he's wearing his boots, and almost falls over. Steve doesn't let him, and just squats down, and starts unlacing them. Pulling the long laces loose, in swift movements.

It's hot. It's so hot.

And Steve is eye level with his dick, and this is what dreams are made of, for sure.

Happy Fucking New Year.

In the morning, Eddie clomps across the kitchen floor in his unlaced boots, and the soles stick with every step. He gets a vaguely clean-looking glass from the countertop, and fills it with water.

And drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

He looks out over the living room, and can see Gareth on the couch, with one eye barely open. Clearly hungover. Maybe Eddie fucked up letting Gareth join them. Gareth's not that old, not yet. He's still in that weird middle-ground. Eddie was drinking and smoking at his age. Steve, too. But maybe they shouldn't encourage it. Maybe Gareth should have been sent to Dustin's kiddie party, instead. But Gareth would've fought that.

Gareth whistles low, a mocking catcall.

Eddie looks down. He's wearing his boxers, and his boots. And that's it. Fuck. Yeah, he's hungover, too.

Eddie doesn't give Gareth the satisfaction, so he twirls, showing off. Acting like he meant to look exactly like this.

Then, Steve stumbles into the kitchen, taking the glass from Eddie's hand, gulping down the rest of the water, and he's in his briefs, and that's it. With a big-ass hickey on his neck, that Eddie is certain he's responsible for, even if he doesn't quite remember doing it.

"Steve's hairy," Gareth mumbles, and Eddie laughs, even if it kills his head.

They are all so hungover, it's ridiculous. Maybe he shouldn't have mixed champagne, beer and liquor with Argyle's weed.

But then Steve leans down, and puts his chin on Eddie's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Eddie's waist, hugging him from behind. No, Eddie thinks this is the best thing he's ever done, maybe.

Eddie leans back into him, and Steve kisses him on the bare shoulder.

"Happy New Year," Eddie says, quietly.

Steve chuckles, hugging him tighter, "Well, it sure has been so far."

Yeah, 1987 is definitely going to be Eddie's year.

Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, commented on and reblogged all my entries for this month-long challenge. I really enjoyed participating in this event so damn much. Thank you for reading! ❤️

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see the rest of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #new year's eve #partying #kissing at midnight #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth (stranger things)#platonic stobin #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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alisoncooper · 4 months

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mia cooper is gonna grow up to be a historian and you can't change my mind. like.

imagine how many stories about the ghosts and their lives alison would tell her whilst she's growing up. how could little mia not be fascinated with the uncle killed in a catholic plot. the auntie who remembers when pineapples were brought over to britain. the aunt, she never got to know who experienced the witch trials first-hand. the other uncle who had beef with lord byron. she becomes a champion for the forgotten women in history who were maths geniuses. she studies homosexuality in the army during the world wars. she knows far more than the average historian about the intricacies of the daily life of cavemen.

mia is surrounded by rich history and is connected to it in a very personal way.

she comes home from school to excitedly tell alison and mike what she learned in history that day and goes back the next day with wild historical anecdotes from her mum she can't always prove are true, but her eyes are sparkling even as the teacher nods politely.

at uni, she's got a myriad of dissertation ideas and keeps changing her mind on what to write because she wants to give every era her family are from equal precedence and finds them all interesting

when she completes her PhD, she celebrates by booking into the button house hotel with her parents, and popping a bottle of champagne in a room full of ghosts she can't see, but loves and credits and thanks for her passion. along with her parents, who supported her and told her the stories they knew. and mia's especially thankful for the sheer amount of times they agreed to book stays at the hotel so mia and alison could ask the ghosts questions whilst she was studying and writing

mike taught her the bathroom mirror trick years ago. julian writes 'we are so proud of you'

mia spends her life encouraging people to look at history from the perspective of everyday individuals

mia cooper fucking loves history guys

#this was supposed to be a short post i don't know what happened #ghosts #bbc ghosts #mia cooper #effie rambles #long post

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sbdskate · 3 months

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Laws Of Attraction (Part 9) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings : fluff and cheese, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3,866

A/N: One day I may be one of those writers who is well organized and has a preplanned schedule for posting, but unfortunately (and as my first fic), today is not that day. Thank you for your patience during this writing drought. Another chapter will be on the way after this, hopefully in a couple of weeks after another round of edits. Shout out to @cutelittlefakejourneys for your help. As always, thank you for reading and don't be a ghost reader!

Daniel Ricciardo had been in your room last night. After a long race day filled with anxiety, media, McLaren, and subsequently relief and pride, he had stolen a bottle of champagne from McLaren’s afterparty, and your heart. He had hesitantly conditioned the gift on being consumed after the signing and delicately suggested you share the bottle, evidently afraid he would tear the fragile string that connected the two of you since the beginning. But you didn’t want to wait, so you had invited him in.

“So that’s how you open a bottle without spilling half of it?”

“What can I say, I’m a woman of many talents. Would you feel more comfortable if I gave you one of my heels to drink out of?” He laughed.

“Nah, not dirty or sweaty enough.”

He looked around to see what you had made of your private space. In contrast to the crisp outward appearance you presented as you strutted through the paddock in your tailored suits, your hotel room was a mess. Laptop open, papers spread out over every surface. Your petite figure was dwarfed by the oversized, plush hotel robe. Behind closed doors he realized you were quite ordinary. Not that you were unremarkable, but in the sense that you were perfectly imperfect.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To finish lines.”

You started out at least trying to be prim and proper, using the hotel’s water glasses as vessels. But at a certain point decorum went out the window and you simply passed the bottle between you sitting cross legged on the floor. Even though it was late, the hours passed like sand through an hourglass.

“Biggest celebrity crush growing up?”

“Leonardo DiCaprio. Easy. Man has been attractive literally at all stages of my life, from the time I was six watching ‘Growing Pains’ to now. Dude aged like fine wine. Unfortunately though I’ve aged out of his dating pool.”

He observed your lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle, how small your hand looked holding it, and his imagination ventured to unclean places.

“You?”

“Josh Allen,” he said without skipping a beat.

“You were five when Josh Allen was born. I know he’s your boyfriend but that doesn’t count.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I might have had a poster of Kylie Minogue in my bedroom when I was like, twelve.”

The two of you sat side by side at the foot of the bed, your hands inched closer towards one another as the night dwelled on.

“If you could do anything in the world, if money didn’t matter, what would you do?”

“Eh. I think I’d still be a lawyer.” He snorted.

“That’s the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard.”

“What? Someone’s gotta do it.”

“Come on. Do you actually love this? You’ve been away from your life in the States for months. And for what?”

“Well, I got to travel the world, meet cool celebrities… I got to know you. That must count for something, right?”

You tried to deliver the earnest statement as casually as possible, hoping he wouldn’t read too much into it. But the heft of your words hung in the air and blended with the little popped champagne bubbles that had evaporated. After months of Daniel tormenting you with flirty comments, it was his turn to try to ignore your flattery.

“Really. Money’s no object. Any job in the world. Go.”

“Ok ok fine. I suppose - Oh I don’t know… Maybe I’d be a food critic. I love to eat, I like to complain, and I like writing, so I feel like that’s the perfect marriage of all those things. Or… maybe I’d just drop off the grid completely. I’ve always dreamed about running off to the rolling hills of Italy and living off the land, maybe I’d open a flower shop or something. Really just live out my Under the Tuscan Sun fantasy. But it’s silly. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, I could never imagine throwing it all away.”

“It’s not silly.”

Your sideways glance met his deep pools of dark ember, filled with sincerity. You took a swig of champagne and passed the bottle back to him, wishing to wash away the palpable chemistry that swirled around you.

“What about you?”

“I guess I’d still be doing this.” You frowned, sensing his timidness.

“That’s not fair, you made me pick something.”

“Come on, it’s not like I have any transferable skills. I don’t know what else I could do.”

“You literally have two side hustles already. Wine maker and fashion mogul don’t do it for you?”

You thought you could crack a smile out of him, but instead the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

“It’s not the same. We already decided the second time we met I could never have a desk job. I’m an adrenaline junkie, I’ve always needed to be in a car. Plus my parents worked hard to get me here, to get those opportunities for me, and seeing them happy makes me happy. I don’t know what else there is.”

“Your mother has a small heart attack every time you race.” You tried to placate his uncertainty, but the light conversation had turned heavy and there was no undoing it.

“Oh, that’s neither here nor there,” he brushed off.

“What about all the cameras constantly in your face? Don’t you miss being anonymous?”

This seemed to make him pause.

“I do… but at the same time, part of the fun was getting to make a name for myself. I’m not sure I fully knew what I was getting myself into, but I knew that fame came with the territory if I was actually good at what I was doing. Do I miss being able to walk down the street or go to a restaurant without being bombarded? Yeah for sure. But even when I had that, I don’t think I enjoyed it because I was always trying to get to the next step.” He paused, the furrow in his brow coming undone. “Do I love it right now in this very moment? No. I need a fucking break. I think you corporate people call it ‘burnout’ or whatever. But I’ve loved it up until now, and I know I’ll love it again eventually. I really can’t imagine doing anything else.”

The space between your fingers had vanished. As though your extremities had a mind of their own, you both looked down to study how they folded over one another. There was no recoiling. Your hand, that apparently had its own free will, sent signals to you to look up again. It was ironic that you had partially declined his invitation to the McLaren afterparty because you were afraid of winding up in a situation that vaguely resembled something exactly like this. Tomorrow was so close yet so far, and your wherewithal to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you was at an all time low. Over the last week leading up to the final race, flashbacks of the kiss in Brazil replayed on a loop in your mind. If you blinked you would’ve missed it when it had happened in real time. But the memory teased you and champagne was buzzing through your veins, clouding your judgment. You wanted to explore. Like a moth to a flame, you began leaning in, your eyes fluttering as his lips went in and out of focus.

Instead of being met with Daniel’s embrace, you toppled over as he got to his feet.

“Champagne’s gone, guess that’s my cue for bed.”

You propped yourself on your elbow as you looked up at him incredulously. How much champagne had you had, that you had so badly misread the situation? You averted your gaze in embarrassment.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

His extended hand came into view. You slowly looked up again, his warm and inviting eyes conveying more than words ever could. You cautiously accepted his help as he got you to your feet, his strong hold steadying you.

“Do you need any help in the morning?” Yeah, just avoid Daniel until it’s over so you don’t lose your job. That would probably be a good start.

“No, I’m good, thanks though. Do you need any help?”He laughed, mostly out of astonishment that you could possibly ask such a question when you had already done so, so much.

“Yeah, if you could just sign for me too that would be great.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his arm. “Get some rest, yeah?”

And then he was gone. But how could you possibly just get some rest? You tossed and turned, never quite falling into a deep slumber. The scene of two friends on the floor sharing champagne and secrets played over and over. Friends? Colleagues? Business partners? Something else?

It festered as you got ready, before even the sun was up. The tried and true pink suit felt like it might burst at the seams, unable to contain the palpitations in your chest - a concoction of anticipation, nerves, anxiety, and excitement.

It was strange, having such a momentous deal take place outside the confines of a grandiose conference room with a dramatic, long, mahogany table overlooking some city skyline and perhaps a beautiful, shiny body of water. It was a status symbol of Big Law, the firm’s ability to peacock to clients how successful they were. The bigger the room and better the view, the more deserving they were of that outrageously high retainer fee they charged.

Instead, you walked into what was left of Red Bull hospitality after the big, final race weekend. Of course it was sleek and modern in its own right, but it gave an air of approachability that was lacking at the firm’s office. Nonetheless, you tried to import formality back into the space. You had printed and made matching binders of copies of the agreement for everyone present, appropriately tabbed and color coordinated. You brought blue, black, and red pens, highlighters, sharpened No. 2 pencils, and legal pads with the firm’s name emboldened at the top. You had gotten to Red Bull early to set up the space yourself, so that all materials were spaced out accordingly for each chair at the table. You took a step back to admire your handy work. Yes, this would do just fine.

Your phone went off.

DR: Where are you? We’re going to be late.

Y/N: I’m already here.

DR: 🙁

DR: You didn’t wait for me?

DR: It’s going to be weird walking there without you.

Y/N: I figured you wouldn’t want to be over an hour early and you could use the extra sleep. I’m sure you’ll manage.

It was weird for Daniel walking to the paddock without you. The whole morning had been weird. It had been too quiet. There was no offkey musical number through his bathroom wall. He missed the sprightly knock at his door that came about ten minutes too early. He missed guessing which of your faces he’d get when you realized he wasn’t ready. He was amazed at how quickly he had gotten used to you. Had they really only been at this hotel for four days? Five?

His memory taunted him as he walked to Red Bull. He recalled himself holding his breath in anticipation as you closed in on him last night. He felt his heartbeat all the way up to his throat, his pulse points throbbed. It was an out of body experience, watching in slow motion as he pulled himself away from you. He finally learned it was for the best, even though the dejected look on your face pained him.

When he got there, he was disappointed to discover he was the last to arrive, wishing he had more moments alone with you. Christian, Joe, and in-house Red Bull lawyer bros sat around you, centering you as a vibrant glow in a sea of dull blues and grays. He was relieved to discover that you had reserved the seat next to you. He felt his face involuntarily break into grin as he noticed you notice him come into frame.

Christian, who was sitting across from you with his back to the door, saw the slightest twitch of your facial muscles. He whipped around, before a smile was fully formed, knowing exactly what it meant.

“The man of the hour! So nice of you to finally join us.” Everyone stood up for another round of hand shakes and self-congratulatory pats on the back. He could hardly maintain eye contact, his gaze constantly darting back to you. You rose to your feet, but remained in place, patiently waiting your turn for him.

He finally stood in front of his reserved chair, directly facing you. He wasn’t sure what to do – he knew you so well, a handshake hardly seemed appropriate. But you were in front of professionals so a hug wouldn’t do. He knew what he wanted to do, and that certainly wasn’t an option. Fortunately you made the decision for him, instinctively sticking your hand out. He would’ve been a little sad about it, but for the knowing twinkle in your eye. Your palms firmly met, and he appreciated how soft and delicate yours were. It was like you were holding hands.

“Eh-hem.”

You cleared your throat, eyes suddenly piercing. It wasn’t until he felt you try to pry your hand away that he realized he had been shaking it about six seconds too long. He finally relinquished his grip and you both sat down.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” he whispered to you. You only gave him a twitch of a smile and a curt nod in return before swiveling your chair to face the other side of the table.

“Now then. Let’s get started, shall we?”

Daniel almost felt silly for pushing this whole ordeal back an extra day. Almost. He could imagine you marching out of there muttering this could have been an email under your breath. The contract was, for all intents and purposes, finished and truly just needed to be signed. It only took twenty minutes to do a walk through of the terms, which of course no one objected to after the countless back-and-forth’s of redlines, late night phone calls, and negotiations. And then, with a swift flick of his wrist, it was set in stone.

He stared at the wet blue ink on the page. He didn’t realize he was smiling until his cheeks started to hurt.

“I guess we’re engaged now. This feels familiar.” When he finally looked up Christian was beaming back at him like a proud dad.

“Welcome back, Daniel. Welcome home.”

“You do realize that could’ve been an email?” He laughed as he waited behind for you to pack up your stuff. Joe in typical fashion had exchanged quick pleasantries after the signing and was gone in a flash, off to the next client. The other Red Bull representatives followed suit not long after.

“It could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?” He watched as you stuffed the last binder into your bag, fighting with the zipper. When you finished you looked up to find him staring intently at you, causing you to nearly drop your bag.

“Can I help you?”

He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. You stared at his tan forearms, noticing his veins bulge.

“That depends… do you like surprises?” You did your best to hide a gulp, your throat suddenly dry. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you thought…

But if he was, two could play at that game.

“Depends on the surprise,” you purred, leaning forward ever so slightly to show off the v of your necklace that led a trail to your hidden cleavage.

He leaned forward to meet you part way, not breaking eye contact.

“I think you’ll like this one,” he whispered. You felt goosebumps raise on your skin, giddy in suspense. Your heart was about to burst through your chest. Was he really about to take you right here in this office?

Without warning he pushed himself from the table and walked quickly towards the door, leaving you bewildered in the middle of the room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you innocently.

“What are you waiting for? Follow me!”

He proceeded to skip down the hallway, forcing you to jog to try to keep up with him.

“Daniel! Wait up! What the hell?”

He led you to the exit of Red Bull hospitality before he finally stopped.

“I may or may not have called in a favor.”

“Daniel, this isn’t funny. What –“

You stopped in your tracks as the doors opened. With your jaw on the floor, you let out a silent scream as Geraldine Estelle Halliwell Horner, aka Geri, aka Ginger Spice, aka one-fifth of the iconic girl group The Spice Girls, stood in front of you in the flesh. As a child of the 90’s, this moment felt biblical.

Apparently Christian was also there. “Oh Darling, I have someone I want to introduce you to.”

You were already barely functioning when she turned away from her husband and made direct eye contact with you. Then, as though it were a conversation about the weather, she very casually said “Oh hello. You must be y/n, I’ve heard so much about you. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Your hand gripped over your chest. Eyes wide, you looked to Daniel to confirm she was not a hologram, but he only gave you a wide grin, then back to Geri who was waiting patiently for you to act like a human which was unfortunately too big of an ask.

“I-you’re-ohmygodIcan’tbelievethisishappening-I-hi-I mean…. You know my name.” You dissolved into fits of nervous giggles. Daniel stood there very pleased with himself. He was a little insulted you weren’t this starstruck when you met him, but it was overshadowed by the immense satisfaction he felt that he initiated something that made you so happy.

Geri gave a sympathetic smile. Clearly this was not the first time a fan lost their shit at her mere presence. “I do. I hear you’ve been very busy the last few weeks.”

“What? Oh, right. Yeah I’ve spent a lot of time with Daniel and your husband.” you blabbed, quickly changing the topic. “Do you and the girls still hang out regularly? Spice World was my favorite movie growing up, and-and-and I memorized all of the choreography to Stop and Spice Up Your Life.” You continued talking a million miles a minute.

“Well that’s good to know in case we ever need a fill-in,” she joked trying to put you at ease. Your demeanor quickly sobered and you put a hand over your heart.

“Oh, Miss Halliwell. I could never replace Victoria on your next reunion tour, but if you absolutely insist I would be honored to step in to ensure the show goes on,” you swore in earnest. Geri slowly nodded, locking eyes with Daniel behind you doing her best to telecommunicate with him. What the fuck. He only shrugged as he continued beaming.

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said slowly and politely. Daniel finally interjected.

“Y/n, you have to pack and I’m sure Geri and Christian have their own flights to catch…”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” you said, Daniel’s voice beginning to bring you back down to earth. You rummaged through your bag, before proudly presenting your hand to her. “Here’s my card in case you or any of the girls need any type of legal assistance, happy to go over any contracts for you or whatever else you may need.” Geri’s forced smile relaxed, appreciating your hustle and intellect.

“This is great, thank you. Girl power, right?” And just like that you were back on Saturn. You proudly held up a peace sign as though you were giving an oath.

“Girl Power. Forever,” you swore. Daniel gently put his hand on your lower back to try and herd you along, but you turned to look back as you walked. “And now that you have my number, let me know if you ever want to get your nails done together or get coffee or even a yoga class!” you called after her. Geri chuckled and waved.

“It was nice meeting you too,” she shouted back.

“Good seeing you too y/n – what am I, chopped liver?” You kept walking and waved him off.

“Oh right, sorry. Yeah yeah, nice seeing you too Christian. Pleasure doing business.”

You proceeded to gush about the encounter the entire way back to the hotel. Your hands flailed in the air as you excitedly repeated every little detail, even though Daniel had also been there to witness the whole thing. Your eyes were bright and wide, still processing the adrenaline.

“So did I do alright then?” he asked cheekily as you approached your rooms.

“Did you do alright?! That was one of the best moments of my life, I could kiss you!”

The words slipped out before you had a chance to think, stopping both of you in your tracks. They hung heavy in the air, waiting for an answer. But for the tension that had dragged on, and built, and compounded on itself for months, the statement would never be interpreted as anything other than an innocent, facetious comment for dramatic effect. But Daniel looked at you intently hoping you meant it. He turned his body to align with yours as you remained frozen, and cautiously stepped forward to remove the space between you. Your mouth parted slightly, trying to find words to explain yourself but drew a blank. He leaned in ever so slightly, his hot breath beating on the side of your face and tickling your ear.

“So do it,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You dared to lock eyes with him, searching for an answer. His hand finally did what it had wished to do for so long, gently pushing hair out of your face and finding a home at the nape of your neck. He left it there, but he didn’t have to use any force to bring you together as your heads naturally tilted and pulled inwards like magnets. It was dizzying having his face so close to yours, feeling his breath tickle your nose and your cheeks, stoking the flush that had your face burning.

It was only when your lips were so close that you inhaled each other’s oxygen that you suddenly remembered you were in a very public hallway. You were still in your suit, that felt like it was about suffocate you. To his disappointment, and yours, you fell into old patterns. You pried yourself out of his orbit, stumbling backwards.

“Would you look at the time? I, um, need to go pack. Long flight tomorrow,” you stammered, as you continued backwards towards your room.

“y/n…”

“Congratulations again, I’m super happy for you.”

“Can we at least talk about this?” You fumbled with your keys pretending not to hear him, your focus on the floor.

“It was great working with you. You have a bright future back at Red Bull, I’m sure everything will work out. Have a safe trip back to Perth.”

And with that final, clinical, arms-length message, you left him in the hallway.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Wild Nights || CL16 {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: You show your support for Charles and he shows his support for you. Warnings: 18+only, just Charles being himself WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

“Hurry up or you’re going to be late to your own show,” Bea urged as she tugged at your arm. “Come on, we have to go!”

You rose on your tiptoes and tried to look over the sea of people. “Just one more minute.”

“I gave you ten.”

You checked your phone again but there was no new message from Charles since his last update that he was just going to quickly shower. You had briefly seen him before the free practice, but other than a few quiet words in the back of Ferrari’s hospitality you hadn’t really spent any time with him since landing in Las Vegas.

You had thought scheduling concerts in the same city would mean seeing more of Charles but nothing was ever quite that simple.

Sighing, you sent him a message apologising for leaving without a proper goodbye and reminded him not to wait up for you. It would be late by the time you finished the show and he needed an early night before his qualifying race, but hopefully you were able to find a few minutes together in the morning before he left.

The drive through the city was long with traffic congestion and you spent most of it checking your phone to the point that Bea leaned over and ripped it from your hands.

“Hey!” you growled as she tossed it into the front seat beside the chauffeur. “I was using that.”

“No, you were distracted by it.” She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the minifridge and popped the cork. “Here, bottoms up.”

“Classy,” you murmured as you took the bottle and drank straight from it.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and took it back for a quick swig of her own. “At least I know it will get you to relax. Luckily your makeup has survived the day, there won’t be time to redo it.”

“There was a time when you said I didn’t need make up, is this you saying I’m getting ugly?”

“Pfft, bitch, please. If I thought you were ugly I would tell it to you straight, like a good friend. You’re beautiful and I’m jealous, I just thank god I have these,” she said as she grabbed her boobs for emphasis. “They kill my back, but they look damn good.”

“Forget your back, I heard they nearly killed Pierre,” you chuckled. “I think his fans would have a problem if you accidentally smothered him with those.”

“At least he would die happy and doing what he loved. Imagine that obituary.”

“I’d rather not.” Your nose wrinkled at the thought of any type of obituary for a racer, it was an all too real possibility you tried not to dwell on.

Bea agreed quietly with another drink from the bottle and cast her eyes out the window, taking in the bright lights of the strip. She nearly spit out her mouthful at the sight of an electronic billboard advertising the first Las Vegas F1 race. “Wow, they really got him again?”

You leaned over the seat and saw the ad of Charles decked out in a glittering jacket, elvis wig and pink feather boa as a deck of cards rained down. A laugh bubbled up as you took the bottle back and brought it up to your lips with a dopey smile. “He’s too sweet and trusting, a little gullible too.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she joked as the car pulled into the service entrance of the MGM. and she took the half empty bottle away. “Can’t have you drunk on opening night.”

“Can I have my phone back?”

She reached through the front and grabbed it off the seat. “Fine, but no moping like a sad sap because we have to run.”

The door to the car opened to an entourage of people chiding you for the tardiness and you were hustled through the back channels of the building, stopping briefly in a room little larger than a closet to change outfits before you reached the backstage area.

“You have five minutes,” the head coordinator warned as Bea arrived with a cup of lemon, ginger and honey tea to help warm your vocal chords.

You thanked her as you sipped the hot drink and felt your phone vibrate with a notification as Scuderia Ferrari’s Instagram went live. ‘Music Challenge’ was the caption and you waved Bea over knowing they were always entertaining.

“Oh, I love this song,” Charles exclaimed as he nodded his head along.

“You say that every time,” Carlos complained.

“Kill Bill?”

“Correct!” The interviewer confirmed as Carlos groaned and fell back into the couch in defeat.

“How do you know that?”

“I listen to a lot of music.”

They both fell silent as the next song started and they both smashed their hands on their little bells.

“Flowers,” Carlos shouted. “Flowers, flowers, I got it first.”

“You got it loudest,” Charles disputed but the moment the next song started he was jumping up and pinging his bell in time. “Y/N, Love You Need!” He turned to Carlos and blew him a kiss. “It’s my song.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t have a song.”

“I’m sure someone has written a song about you, probably not a love song though,” Charles teased before he checked his watch. “Ay, I need to go or the next song she writes about me won’t be happy either. Ciao!”

“He quit so I win, right?”

“No, no, no I didn’t quit.” Charles paused his exit to point an accusing finger back at his teammate. “You took so long fixing your hair that we started late.”

“Still, I win, because you’re leaving.”

“See this,” Charles turned to the camera, his hand still waving to his team mate, “he doesn’t care about winning, he’s just upset he wasn’t invited to Y/N’s concert. Carlos?”

Carlos batted his eyelashes with a smile. “Yes, Charles?”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Carlos was already on his feet. “I thought you would never ask.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Vamos, we’re late.”

You turned to Bea as the live feed ended and you shoved your phone into the storage cupboard beside the stairs leading to the stage. “Did you know he was coming?”

“Duh, who do you think set him up with a backstage pass?” She shrugged and put her own phone away along with her jacket. “I gave him a few in case he wanted to bring some friends.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You mean Pierre…”

“I mean friends, and if that happens to be Pierre then I have no problem with that.”

You didn’t have an opportunity to tease her further about the commitment issues the two of them had before a microphone was shoved into your hands and you were pointed to the stage entrance.

“Kill it babe!” Bae shouted with a thumbs up as she jogged around to the other stage entrance for her cue.

The sold out crowd was a swirling mass of energy and it swelled as you stepped into the spotlight, their screams barely blocked by the earpieces that you had pushed into your ears as you took the stairs. The rush of seeing the excitement on their faces never ceased to amaze you and you bounced on your toes eagerly.

“What’s up, Las Vegas? Are you doing alright tonight?” Their responding screams shook the stage and widened your grin. “That’s good to hear, because, for me, well, I’m Fine.”

The music started and remembered the day you started writing the song, taking off from Monaco. It had begun as a tribute to Bea and the friendship you shared but then as the weeks went by and Charles stayed in touch it had evolved. It really was a song for any sort of relationship and why it was one of your favourites after Love You Need.

“Woke up too early, Almost put salt in my coffee, Oh, I thank God that you stopped me before that.”

You grinned to the shadows where you knew Bea was waiting, having been the inspiration for the line.

“Tripped over something, Spilt it all over your front seat, Didn't even say I'm sorry about that.”

You had been so frazzled trying to clean the mess up in Charles’ ridiculously expensive car that you had forgotten to apologise at the time. You had made it up to him later, and luckily it hadn’t stained, probably credit to the expensive upholstery.

“On and on, it's just more of the same And even when you ask if I'm okay… I try to say I'm fine (I'm fine).”

The drummer came in with the heavy beat for the chorus and the hands in the crowd waved in time as Bea jumped into the spotlight for her parts. This was what made it a favourite of yours, when she grasped your hand like she had when you had broken down over your ex. She had called you on your bullshit when you said you were fine and she had been there through the worst. It made performing this with her even more special.

The entire concert was going to be even more special knowing Charles was going to be in the crowd soon and he knew exactly which songs were devoted to him.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was coming because he balanced you, and everything was equal between you. You supported him in his races whenever you could make it to them and he supported you when he could make it to yours, but you knew how tired he would have been after his day.

There were thousands of people beyond the blindly bright lights of the stage but somehow you knew where to look when you felt the energy shift halfway into the set. And there he was.

He must have changed in the car as he was no longer wearing the bold red Ferrari shirt, opting for more sedate casual clothes to blend in with the crowd. It didn’t exactly stay that way when you pointed to him during one of his songs, singing the lines solely for him and drawing the attention to him.

“Can we stay frozen in time, in between hello and goodbye?”

You collapsed onto the bed of the hotel still riding the high from the concert and Charles fell down with you, equal parts of happiness and exhaustion warring in his eyes.

“You should get some sleep,” you said as you rolled onto your side to face him so you could cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the 5 o’clock shadow along his jaw.

“I will soon,” he murmured as his arm curled over your waist and pulled you closer. “I just want to hold you for a little while.” He tucked you into the curve of his body until there wasn’t any space left between you, his cheek resting atop your head. “You make me so proud, seeing you living your dream. I wish I could be at every concert.”

“Me too,” you sighed longingly. “It’s the hardest thing when we have to say goodbye.”

His chest rose and fell slowly as he relaxed in the embrace, bordering on the edge of sleep. “You’ve never asked me not to race.”

“Why would I do that?” You pulled back to see his face and recognised the look. It was something his ex had asked of him. “Would the moon ask the sun not to rise? No, because both are equally important and their paths still cross. We are the sun and the moon.”

You felt his smile as he kissed your forehead. “Am I the moon or the sun?”

“The moon,” you stated as you tipped your head back so you could stare into those gorgeous eyes if his. “You are there to lighten my darkest nights.”

“And you make my day infinitely brighter.”

Click here for the epilogue.

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