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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month

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bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined, “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was.

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams.

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track.

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You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’. “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.”

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand.

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?”

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed.

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet. A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste!

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head,

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it. “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver.

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone.

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times.

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely.

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him,

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number.

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.”

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit.

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up.

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!”

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.”

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration.

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait.

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ BONUS INSTAGRAM POSTS

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! �� olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

#mimi.writes #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #charles leclerc instagram au #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 oneshot

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chososdiscordkitten · 22 days

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Synopsis: calling the jjk men good boy's for the first time ^-^

Includes: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐨 >_< Content: GN!Reader, no explicit smut- mostly just soft stuffff, just one dick jump I think..? jjk men being simpppps

MDNI

Choso Kamo

The discovery that Choso liked praise was no surprise. If he had a tail, it would wag whenever you praised him; we know this.

But finding out he liked this kind of praise- that’s what shocked you.

It came out of your mouth so quickly. As though you had been calling Choso that more than you called him by his name.

He was making dinner- pattering around the kitchen with your eyes following his every move. You found it endearing how he insisted he would cook, “All you need to do is sit pretty and wait.” he would demand.

No objections coming from you, knowing if Choso didn’t cook- you would be eating takeout instead.

And when he offered you a spoonful to see how it was tasting, you closed your eyes with a pleased hum.

“Now there’s my good boy.”

You swore it was instinct- like you couldn’t filter the words that left your lips.

And as though time stood still- you opened your eyes with pinched brows, and your lips pulled to the side.

The little glimmer that shined in his eyes was one you only see in wonderfilled children when they see a candy store.

His cheeks blushed with a little smile forming at the corner of his lips, had his heart beat any faster in his chest you would have heard it.

“I’m a..?” he whispered, looking at you and wanting to hear you repeat it.

You got the hint he liked it from the moment you opened your eyes. Blinking innocently as his hand held the spoon tightly. “A good boy.” you smiled, trying to keep the embarrassed blush heating your cheeks at bay.

“My good boy.” you reiterated, watching his cheeks become deeper pink.

Choso nodded- as though this was some standard compliment that didn’t make the appendage between his legs jump at the name.

‘A good boy.’ he mouthed with a giddy smile as he continued making dinner.

For sure this only drove him to keep showing his affection with acts of service- only to hear your lips call him by that little name.

And you were happy to call him that if it meant he would keep looking at you with the same love drunk eyes.

After that, he would do a favor to you- not expecting anything in return except the new found pet name he wanted to hear you say.

So when he would bring you something you had asked for—the TV remote, a charger, or a snack on his way home—his heart would pound just waiting for the little name.

His head would rest on your chest with your hands rubbing small circles on his back and the other playing with his hair. Intent eyes watching the film you had put on- as though you were able to feel the stiffness of his shoulders. Waiting for the name.

You placed a kiss on his forehead, “My good boy.” you hummed against his skin- feeling him ease into your grasp with a soft exhale.

Hiromi Higuruma

You were sitting in the apartment office, scanning documents with hazy eyes till your mouth suddenly felt very- very dry.

But then you remembered you had a perfectly able boyfriend sitting on the living room couches waiting for you to finish working.

You picked up your phone- swiping through the useless apps and clicking on Hiromi’s contact- hearing his ringtone through the closed door before hearing the dial click.

Taking on a slightly stern tone, “I’m only a few feet away from you-” he started, only for you to sigh dramatically.

“I don’t think i've ever been so thirsty in my wholllleee life.” you sighed, pressing your forehead onto the desk and hearing a little chuckle rumble through the speaker.

You could hear the smile in his words, “That so?” almost sarcastically.

Humming a lazy ‘Mhm’ “How I wish I had a tall, strong, handsome boyfriend to bring me a glass of water wiiiittthhhh three- no. Four ice cubes.” You exhaled dramatically.

Hearing another little chuckle, “If only.” he muttered, playing coy to your specific demand.

You gave a frustrated exhale- “Hiromi, be a good boy and bring me a glass of water.” this time more demanding, no longer having the patience for his game of playing coy.

You furrowed your eyebrows- unable to comprehend just how tired you had to be to say that to him. The silence heard from the phone made your stomach fall.

Hanging up the phone with a small curse. Wondering if you had crossed a line that hadn’t been drawn by either of you.

You sat up and started working again- far too embarrassed to go out for your own glass of water and settling on the fact Higuruma wouldn’t bring you one.

That was till you heard looming footsteps behind the door of the office, hearing the door knob jiggle and widening your eyes at the hundreds of scenarios that raced in your mind.

There Hiromi stepped- casual as ever with a glass of water in his hand. Unbothered, and cool as a cucumber as he placed the glass on the desk with a little kiss on your forehead.

This made you think the call was cut out at the perfect moment.

You muttered a small ‘Thank you.’ still shy from the tired, unfiltered words that left your lips. Hiromi started walking out, his back facing you as he halted his steps at the door frame.

“Honey?” he asked, not even bothering to turn around. “Did you call me a good boy?” Your heart plummeted to your stomach from the question as your cheeks started warming.

You parted your lips to speak, watching his neck turn and peer back at you. “Depends..?” you squint your eyes, hearing a little laugh leave his lips.

Irking his head, almost to urge you to finish. “On whether you liked it or not...?” you whispered, looking at his expression soften.

His nose crinkled in the slightest- “I think I did.” he whispered back with a little crinkle formed on his nose. A nod from your warmed face in return, mindlessly accepting his confirmation and mouthing a soundless ‘ok.’

Turning around and taking a step out of the office and closing the door behind him. Knowing he would have to hear it a few more times to be sure he liked it or not.

Naoya Zenin

Rare were the times when the want to call Naoya a good boy arose.

He could be such a cunt sometimes- so the urge never really rumbled in your mind.

But when he would be sweet- when his hands held a gentle touch when cleaning a scrape you got on your knee. Or when he would gently clasp your necklace on for you- knowing you wouldn’t be able to see.

He would do those sweet things with a furrowed brow and a pouty lip- sure. But his hands showed his true feelings. How gentle they could be at times- that’s when the pet name would threaten to leave your lips.

But when you would hold his head in your hands, looking at him like an idiot in love- “My good boy.” you murmered, watching a light grimace form on his face at the name.

“Good boy?” he asked, almost disgusted.

You nodded your head- so sure that Naoya was as you said. “You’ve never called me that.”

He was so used to the strange pet names you would call him just to get a rise out of him- and he was sure this one was no different.

You shrugged, “You’re hardly ever a good boy. But when you are- I should tell you, shouldn’t I?” You murmured, being able to feel the warmth on his cheeks fill your palms- even if his expression said otherwise.

“M’not a dog.” he muttered.

“If you were- I would have trained you to be a good boy all the time by now.”

That’s when Naoya pulled his face from your hands and looked away from you. Not wanting to continue the conversation, knowing his cheeks must be flushed by now.

And the last thing he wanted was you on a power trip from making him blush. Especially from being called a good boy.

But when you started calling him that—Pavloving himself into thinking the little endorphins that would simmer in his brain would only happen if you called him that. And you only called him that when he was kind.

Naoya warmed to the name slowly- barely even grimacing at the callousness you’d say it with whenever he would be sweet.

Unknowingly, he was being trained to be nice and polite with one ‘good boy’ at a time.

Satoru Gojo

The times you would praise Gojo were always met with an, “I know.” smug and cocky in his actions to brush off your praise as just compliments.

But the first time you ever spoke those words to him- a praise he had never heard before now, and eager to hear it again.

Satoru had made a stupid comment about how you didn’t show your affections enough- “I’m deprived of kisses.” he murmured, complaining to you as though you didn’t spoil him rotten with your affections.

And in retaliation, you denied him any kisses or hugs. Show him what deprivation really was.

You were washing dishes, with a whiney Satoru behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist with his chin on your shoulder. “This has to be considered abuse!” another complaint as you denied his advances.

“You said I was cold and negligent, so I’m showing you how cold and negligent I can be.” You smiled to yourself, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on a nearby towel.

Hearing a stifled whine of desperation huff from his nose at your denial. “Jus’ gimme one kiss-” aiming his lips at your cheek only for you to pull away.

Turning over to look at him- faces inches apart with his hands daring to tighten their grip on your waist. Tilting your head to the side with a snide smile. “Only good boys who don’t complain get kisses.”

From how close he was- you could see the glimmer in his eyes become blinding at the pet name.

His features going soft with parted lips- “I’m good-” he choked out, looking at you with goal-oriented eyes. “I’m soooo good-” he muttered, bordering on panicked from the idea that you didn’t think he was.

Gojo’s hands gripped harshly at your hips. “Have you been a good boy?” you asked, almost sarcastically—as though you were speaking to a puppy.

He nodded- eager to hear the new compliment leave your lips. Only you nodded ‘no.’

“I don’t think you have ‘toru.” you hummed, his lips coming closer to yours with a sad pout. As though the idea of him being good in your mind was the most important thing he needed to hear.

He only placed his forehead onto the crook of your neck with a sad puff, your hand going up to his undercut, softly stroking the back of his neck in some feigned consoling. “Tell me i’ve been good.” he muttered quietly.

So spoiled from you caving with a little pout here or there. Practically putty in your hands as your other hand caressed the side of his face.

Rolling your eyes with a playful sigh, “You’ve been good.” with a half-assed tone, only for Satoru to look at you with sad eyes. Expecting more than what you offered.

Pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead and pulling away, “You’re a good boy.” you murmured, watching the light return to his eyes in sync with the little smile on his lips.

Blinking rapidly as though he was trying to blind you, “My good boy.” and that’s when he got his fill for affection for the next few minutes.

Then came the task of having to call him that whenever he wanted to hear it- looking at him with a displeased look, knowing you’ve created a monster that thrives on that special kind of praise only you could offer.

Kento Nanami

We can all agree- Nanami is the one who deserves to be told he’s a good boy the most, right?

There were times when the urge blossomed in your mind- at the tip of your tongue and so close to calling him that pet name. But you never did.

That was, until you got the guts to test the waters.

Laying on your back, a few minutes before bed and unwinding while on your phone, and beside you; a hazy Kento that was waiting for you to turn off your side table lamp. Always waiting for you to get ready for bed before allowing himself to fall asleep.

You let out a soft sigh before turning off your phone. Rolling onto your side with Nanami watching you from the side of his vision. Only this time you didn't reach for the little nob to turn your lamp off.

You only stayed on your side with a pensive hum leaving your lips. “Scratch my back Ken,” you muttered, clearly tired with your eyes closed.

Though you couldn’t see it- or hear it, you knew he had a little smile on his face as he shifted onto your side of the bed. A little shiver ran up your spine when his fingertips grazed the small of your back as he reached beneath your shirt.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when his barely present nails started circling small scratches between your shoulder blades, your cheeks tingling from the words you dared say. “Such a good boy.” with a little smile on your lips, Nanami couldn’t see.

Nanami didn’t fully process your mumbled words, only offering a hum in response as he kept up the gentle scratches.

But when his brain started thinking about what you said- thinking if he misheard you. Slowing his hand with furrowed eyebrows, “Did you call me a-” he hesitated in what he thought he heard.

“A ‘good boy’..?” bordering on a whisper from the nerves of being incorrect.

Only the little ‘Mhm!’ that left your lips swatted those nerves away. “You’re such a good boy- always so nice to me.” you hummed, closing your eyes against the pillow with his hand still acting on your demand.

A pensive hum left his lips before slowly dragging his hand out of your shirt. You opened your eyes in dread, thinking he didn’t like it- only to hear him plop on his side of the bed with a throaty exhale.

“Then be good and scratch my back.” he murmured, clearly too tired to process what he had just demanded- and the tone he used opened a whole other can of worms. But seeing as it was only fair- you did the same.

Toji Zenin

He had been bugging you to finish your work for a while. Poking and prodding at you to stop working and pay attention to the film he put on to distract you.

Toji had this thing where he pretended not to care- but you could see that it bothered him with every little side eye he made at you when you would stop typing for even a second. Hoping you were looking up at the TV instead of the screen on your lap.

But every side eye he would make, Toji would find you still working.

Going as far as nudging you with his elbow to mutter some bullshit lie he thought up on the spot.

“M’hungry.” he muttered when you would look over at him.

“Then eat.”

Only a few minutes of an action movie fight before another useless lure for conversation left his lips.

“S’cold in here.” trying to bait any conversation he could think of.

You scoffed, knowing exactly what game he was trying to play. “Get a blanket,” he quickly said, not even wanting to lose your train of thought.

Then another, and another, and another. Till he finally spilled what he really wanted- “You don’t wanna go lay down or somethin-” with a pouty lip and furrowed eyebrows. You sighed and looked over at him.

“Or something?” sarcasm filled your tone as you looked back at the screen.

Toji rolled his eyes with an exhale- another sassy trait he had learned from you.

He parted his lips with an inhale.

“Good boys wait politely, Toji.” you spat- pinched eyebrows and an avoidant gaze as he looked over to you.

“When have I ever been polite.” he murmured- barely audible and in an annoyed tone.

“When have you ever been a good boy?” you retorted, surprised he didn’t catch it the first time.

He only let out a slight hum at your declaration.

Toji didn’t really bring it up after that- and neither did you. As though the words hadn't processed in his brain till a week later.

Looking at you across a metal table at an outdoor cafe- “Did you call me a good boy the other day?” almost with a little grimace on his expression.

You pursed your lips- making Toji think you were going to deny it.

“No. I said you’re never a good boy.”

He only raised a brow at your proclamation- sucking his teeth with an inhale, “That’s not true- and you know it.” dismissing your words before taking a bite of the half sandwich you bought to share.

Takuma Ino

One of the sweetest boys I can imagine.

Always would he try to be as gentlemanly as he could- reminding himself that when it came to you, he would bend over backward had you asked.

But there would be times when it would slip his mind entirely.

Going shopping with him turned from just a quick pit stop- to an hour, then two hours.

While ordering boba in line, your hands held shopping bags on each side. Ordering your own drink before Ino ordered his.

He always found it offensive when you would even think of reaching for your wallet- so he would scoff infront of the cashier before tapping the chip of his card onto the little black screen.

“How am I supposed to pay you back?” you muttered through clenched teeth, taking a few steps to the little wait area as they prepared the bubble drinks.

He muttered something like ‘You don’t have to pay me back, what else am I here for.’ brushing you off with a little scoff.

Ino didn't even notice the bags in your hands- his brain fried from how long you had been in the overcrowded mall. He only noticed when you moved the bags to one hand and shifted your stance slightly.

He looked over at you with a soft exhale- reaching for the bags, “Baby, don't tell me you don't have a ssssuuuuper strong boyfriend to hold these for you.” taking them from your hands and watching your expression soften.

“What kinda boyfriend would let you walk around holding your own bags-” he scoffed, jokingly making fun of himself as you smiled warmly at him.

Be it the general brain splitting headache you felt at that moment- or the heartmelting warmth you felt looking at him, “You're such a good boy.” you muttered- bordering on an illegable whisper, but Ino heard it.

His eyes widened in the slightest and parted his lips at the name. “Me?” Ino whispered back, you only nodded ‘yes’ with tired eyes. Leaning in a little to you ear- too cautious for anyone to hear. “A good boy?” he whispered again. Watching the little smile on your lips widen with eager eyes.

“The goodest boy.” you whispered with a smug tone- knowing he liked being praised in general. You knew he would like the little name.

(a.n) does this count as smut? kinda a grey area me thinks. Didn't know how to tag it. (p.s) im so hungry rn and need to go spend wayyyy too much money on tile :(

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messylustt · 10 months

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.2k words

fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part

angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) — you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.

You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.

You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasn’t top notch you’re sure he’ll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.

You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.

He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. “Y/n. How are you?”

You smile. “Good…yeah, no I’m good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?”

“Oh.” He spins. “I swear I saw him over there.” He points in a random direction. “…now he’s gone. Maybe with Gwen.” He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.

“Well, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.”

“Translation? To what language?” Pav asks.

“From Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.”

“Ah…wait, but doesn’t Miguel fully speak it?” Pav pauses. “Yeah, he’d know a lot more than Miles.”

You nod. “He just won’t tell me.” You mutter under your breath.

“What was that?” Pav asks, brows furrowed.

You look back up. “Miguel’s just kind of busy right now.” You had no idea if he was or not. “And so I thought Miles might be free.”

“I see.” Pav nods. “Come on, I’ll help you find him.” Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.

“Miles!” Pav called out to nowhere in particular. “Miles!?”

“Is yelling his name really gonna help?” Your brows furrow.

“I like to think yelling will conjure up the whole ‘spider-sense’ thing.” Pav says, still gazing around. “Wait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.”

You chuckle, looking around. And that’s when you spot Miles and Gwen. “Miles!” You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.

Miles turns, and copies your smile. “Y/n, hey.”

“Okay look, I’m sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?” You ask, hopeful.

Miles tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, sure. As long as it isn’t French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I don’t know.”

Your smile widens. “No, no. None of those. It’s just Spanish.”

“Oh.” Miles stands straighter. “I’ll warn you I don’t know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.”

“Thank you.” You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.

“Okay, so it’s two sentences.” You begin. Miles nods. “The first one is…’Me encantaría usar…tu cama para otras…cosas’.” You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.

When you look back to Miles, he’s staring at you blinking. You stare back. “What?” You ask.

“Um.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m probably hearing it wrong.” He mutters to himself before he’s looking back to an expectant you.

“What was the second one?” He asks, a little more curious this time.

“Uh…’¿No crees que…me vería bonita atrapada entre…tus sábanas?’”

Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. “What does it mean?”

He coughs. “Who said that to you?”

“Oh, no I said it to someone.” You answer. “Well, they asked me to say it…”

“You said it someone…” he drifts off, slightly gulping.

“What? Is it…bad?” Your brows are further furrowed. “Come on, Miles, please. I’ve been dying to know what it means all of last night.”

“Well, the first one…it means ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.” He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you don’t catch it right.

“What?”

“And the second one means ‘don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets?’.” Miles’ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.

This time you’re staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. “What?” You repeat stupidly. That can’t be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bed…

Now you weren’t dumb you were just…in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.

Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadn’t realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.

Then there was the touches on your chin…

At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something he’d do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasn’t grabbing Peter’s face like that, he wasn’t leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.

Now you’ve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. “Um.” You nod. You don’t know why you’re nodding. You just need to do something that isn’t stare off into space.

“Who, um, asked you to say that?” Gwen asks.

You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.

“Oh, uh, nobody.” You didn’t really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasn’t even something. It wasn’t…right?

But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguel…? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Though…part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.

You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. It’s as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is well…Miguel.

;;

“What was that about?” Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.

Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. “Yeah…nah, that’s right.” He mutters. “My translations right.”

“Who asked her—“

“Asked who what?” Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.

“Y/n.” Gwen says. “She asked Miles to translate something for her.”

“See, I knew this guy would be helpful.” Hobie slightly shakes Miles’ shoulders.

“I think someone has a crush on y/n.” Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.

“Who?” Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.

Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadn’t seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didn’t pay that much attention to people’s gazes, and Miles was well…new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldn’t believe how oblivious they were.

Hobie began to figure out Miguel’s little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadn’t needed Hobie.

And when Miguel’s jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.

“Come on, you lot.” Hobie says staring at them. “Tell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?”

Gwen looks down, thinking. “Miguel.”

Hobie nods. “Uh huh.” He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. “Oh bloody hell, you lot are thick.”

“Oh…” Pav mutters. “Oh!” He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.

“Thank anarchy.” He mutters, thankful one person caught on.

“Miguel likes y/n?!” Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.

“It’d seem so.” Hobie smirks.

;;

Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to say—and having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shock—you've arrived back to sweaty palms.

You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fraction—your nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.

Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.

Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of ‘a mess’.

"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.

You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"

"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.

"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.

Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to say…go."

Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.

Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.

"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotions—stress, anxiety,...fear?

Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.

You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.

"Are you...okay?"

Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.

You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."

Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.

"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.

And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.

"Miguel, where did you go?"

"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.

"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"

"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.

But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."

"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."

"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.

"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.

"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.

"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.

"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."

You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softened—a broken one.

You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"

You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.

But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?

Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.

Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking.

But then you’re slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he can’t have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.

Your breathing hitches as Miguel’s breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.

No. He had told himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say ‘shut the hell up’.

You could feel Miguel’s entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.

For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that ‘this was what has to be done’ and that ‘no, you can’t get distracted’.

Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.

You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didn’t let your waist go. You stopped those voices and he’d be damned if he let you step away from his body now.

Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguel’s fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.

“I’m…” You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. “Sorry…I probably shouldn’t have hugged you.” You could practically taste his breath.

“Yeah…you probably shouldn’t have.” His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.

They’re dry—of course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks.

“I’m sorry that I just…sorta came in.” You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didn’t seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the one’s in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.

Well maybe the second smartest choice… He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from ‘how much more could he take’ to ‘how much more…more…more’. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.

In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.

“A-and I probably shouldn’t have assumed all that stuff…” you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. It’s safe to say your were flustered.

“I think you did alright.” He partially whispered.

“Well…you’re not throwing a chair..so..” Stupid, stupid, stupid—you think to yourself. “I mean…”

And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him look…happy?

“Careful.” You say. “You look like you’re expressing a ‘sparkly emotion’.”

“Oh no.” His grin doesn’t fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. “We wouldn’t want that…would we?”

You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. “…cute.”

You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.

But what he didn’t know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ‘cute’ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.

I’m sorry this one’s kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before they…well…y’know.

at this point I’ve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next part…mhm…FINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS

plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are — i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff

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fandoms-writings · 6 months

Text

Now or Never

Pairing: Best-Friend!Bucky x Virgin!Reader (fem intended)

Word Count: 6.2K (it was supposed to be a drabble oops)

Summary: Based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." for my milestone event, requested by nonnie.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, mentions of a bad date, explicit p in v sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, swearing, bucky talks a lot in bed, weed and alcohol consumption. (if I missed any, please let me know)

A/N: thank you so so much to @bucksangel and @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for beta reading for me, i love you both so so much.

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist

You sat in your car, frustration and disappointment rolling off of you in waves.

Another bad date, another guy just obsessed with hearing himself talk and not once allowing you to get a word in. That topped with how he called you a prude at the end left the worst taste in your mouth.

You didn't want to go home to your empty apartment, already sick of the silence filling your car, so you scrolled through your contacts, thinking who would be up for hanging out with so little notice.

Your lip found its way between your teeth as you passed your best friend's name. You weren't sure if he'd be busy or not, or if he'd be in the mood to hang out, but seeing him would help your mood. Plus. . . you blanched at the image that clouded your mind. Maybe he could help with your little problem - if you had the guts to even ask.

You pressed the dial button before you could talk yourself out of it, waiting for him to pick up as you chewed on your nail.

Just when you were about to hang up, giving up for the night, the tone clicked and his voice filtered through the speaker.

"Hey Peach," His voice was gruff and you could feel some of your frustration ebbing away already, "What's going on?"

"Hey, Buck," You sighed, "Are you busy?"

"Not currently, why?"

"Can I come over for a minute?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on a date?" He chuckled. You could hear him shuffling through what you assumed was his kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards sounding through the little speaker.

"I was." You didn't give him anymore than that, and he was only silent for a small moment before he hummed.

"Alright, get your cute butt over here so you can tell me all about it," He ordered and you couldn't help the heat that grew in your skin at the compliment. "Want me to pack a bowl too?"

You giggled at that before agreeing. "After today, please. I'll pay you back for it."

"How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry about that?" He laughed, "Now get over here. Drive safe."

"I will." You hung up the phone with a sigh before starting your car and heading over to his place, but not before stopping and picking up a bottle of wine on the way.

It wasn't long before you were hiking up the steps to the house he rented. It was small, and not in the best neighborhood, but he didn't have to worry about sharing walls with anyone else and it was bigger than your apartment, so you didn't mind. Plus, you knew he'd never let anything happen to you.

He pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock, giving you a grin that was equally empathetic as it was smug. He liked to relish in the fact that he always knew guys weren't going to be good enough for you, telling you before every date you went on that it'd be a waste of time.

But that didn't mean that he was happy you weren't having a good time.

"Come on," He reached his hand out for you, "Let's get you giggly again."

You chuckled at that before landing the bottle of wine in his outstretched hand, the raise of his eye brows pulling up the corners of your lips.

"Super giggly is the goal then." He stepped away from the door, letting you in before closing and locking it behind you.

"You sure you don't mind me dropping by this late?"

He scoffed at that, leading the way to his kitchen and pulling out two wine glasses, "You know my door is always open for you, right?"

You shrugged, "I know that, but still, you can always tell me no."

"Now, Peach, why would I do that? I'm not going to say no to hanging out with my favorite person." Heat spread through your skin again at his words, and the teasing wink he threw your way.

You didn't mind that he flirted with you, whether flirting was his intention or not, you weren't quite sure. But either way, it made you feel somewhat seen. Liked.

"I thought Steve was your favorite person," You lifted yourself onto his countertop, hissing at the cold that met your thighs. You cursed the version of yourself that decided shorts were a good idea. "It'd be a shame if he heard that wasn't true."

"He knows where he stands with me, don't worry." He handed you a poured glass, clinking his own against it before leaning against the opposite counter. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened now, or do you want to smoke first?"

You chuckled at that, taking a sip of your wine, "How about I tell you while we smoke, then by the time we're good and high, I don't have to think about it anymore?"

He gave you one of his little grins, nodding his head. "You got it."

You followed him outside, getting comfortable in the large papasan chair as he plugged in the string of lights hung over the small porch. He got comfortable in his seat before offering you the bong and a lighter, letting you take the first drag.

It didn't take long to fill Bucky in on what had transpired on your date. How Mark didn't even try to act interested in anything you had to say. How he'd made you meet him at the restaurant instead of offering to pick you up, which in the end ended up being a silver lining because you didn't have to ask him to drive you home.

You'd gotten to the part where your date had called you a prude and what you'd told him to cause that comment, and the words caught in your throat. You'd never told Bucky you were a virgin, not that it mattered, you knew he wouldn't judge you for it. It was just something that never came up.

Maybe it was what happened tonight, the comments and the way your date acted afterwards, that made you not want to tell him. Or maybe it was the pity in his eyes that had grown since you'd started your story. Or. . . or it could've been the rather not small bit of your heart that belonged to him already that stopped you. If others didn't like that you were a virgin in your twenties, and didn't want to be with someone so inexperienced, why would he?

He caught on to your hesitation, setting the bong down as he turned to face you with his brows pulled forward.

"What happened?" He asked, and you looked to your lap, pulling your feet under you and wrapping your sweater around you.

You could tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't tease you for it. You knew that, so why was it so hard to tell him when you told anyone else without a care in the world? You sighed, barely meeting his gaze.

"Promise me you won't judge me?" You whispered and he leaned forward.

"I'd never judge you for anything. I promise."

You nodded, more to yourself in reassurance to let the words out. "The only thing he either heard me say about myself, or that he decided to pay attention to, was the fact that I'm a virgin," You refused to meet Bucky's gaze as he went still, "That seemed to get his attention because then he started assuming I was going home with him after he pretty much ignored me all night. Like I was some prize to be won. A trophy."

You took a breath taking a small glance at Bucky to see his eyes trained on your face, but no emotion peaking through his features other than his fists clenched in his lap, knuckles white.

"When I told him I was just gonna go home, his attitude shifted again and he proceeded to call me a selfish prude." The words rang in your head again, his mocking tone clear in your ears before you forced yourself to push it out.

Bucky still hadn't said anything, his red eyes locked on your form, tucked into your chair as you reached for your wine glass. It wasn't until you'd taken a lengthy sip and had the cup nestled in your hands in your lap that he spoke up.

"You deserve better than that," He started, "And I'm sorry that he treated you like that, Peach."

Looking over to him, you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the heaviness in them as he refused to look away. You shrugged mumbling that it's fine before looking down to your wine glass again. "I don't really want to dwell on it."

"Okay," He angled his head to catch your eye, giving you a soft smile. "You just let me know when you want me to kick this guy's ass and consider it done."

You laughed at that, clutching your glass in your lap so it didn't fall. He smirked at you, seemingly pleased with himself for getting you to laugh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after a moment.

Your focus zeroed in on him, his arm thrown over the curved back of his chair, one of his legs folded under the other, his free hand resting on his thigh as he studied you. You swallowed around the dryness in your mouth and nodded.

"Is there a. . . specific reason you're still a virgin?" He asked. You could tell he wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, he was genuinely curious.

"I guess I was scared at first," You started, remembering how you felt in high school when your best friend told you about how she'd lost her virginity. The idea always seemed daunting, like it was something you were supposed to do to 'become an adult.' But it was intimidating. "I didn't want to force it, wanted it to be something natural, I guess."

"And you haven't had anyone to give you that chance?"

You stilled for a second, shaking your head.

He hummed, at your silence, or your answer, you couldn't tell, but he fell quiet after that, staring at the trees in the yard.

You finished your glass of wine and set it aside, you fingers beginning to slightly numb in the cold before you tucked them into your legs, your mind starting to get fuzzy. You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the weed starting to kick in that made you ask, "Is it a bad thing?"

He whipped his head towards you, his brows pulled together in confusion. "Being a virgin?" At your tentative nod, his face softened and he shook his head, "Not at all."

"Then why do people act like the guy tonight whenever they find out?" You muttered and he sighed, shifting so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Maybe it's intimidating, being someone's first."

Your eyes refused to leave his, your nerves starting to warm as you asked, "What about you?" You asked, readjusting in your seat to angle yourself more towards him, "Would you be intimidated?"

He simply stared at you for a moment before shaking his head, "No." There was something about the way he said it, the roughness of his voice and the confidence in his short answer, that had you trying to subtly clench your thighs together.

You hated to admit it, but you'd thought about it before. Hell, you thought about it on the way over. About sleeping with him. About his rough hands on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips on yours, his fingers in -

"You okay?" His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked back to him, heat rising up the back of your neck. You went to tell him you were fine, that you just wanted to get a drink, maybe watch a movie, but a voice in the back of your head grew too loud to ignore. "Peach?"

The voice told you to ask him for it. To ask him to be your first. You trusted him with your life, you'd trust him with taking your virginity too. You know you would. But you couldn't ask that. What if he said no? What if he was mortified? It wasn't something you could just tell him to pretend you didn't ask for, that's not how that worked.

He was still staring at you, allowing you to have as long as you needed before you told him whatever it was that was going through your head.

Now or never, the voice reminded you, and you took a breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable rejection you felt you knew he was going to give you.

"I'm over it," You muttered, and before he could ask what you were talking about, "I don't want to be a virgin anymore." He watched you, unsure if you were finished speaking yet, but when the words died on your tongue, he nodded.

"Okay," His voice was rough and hoarse and dangerously quiet as he waited to hear what you wanted to do about what you'd said.

"I trust you," You whispered, "More than anyone." His eyes widened just a fraction as you stared at him. Your hands gripped your legs as you mustered up just enough courage to get the words out, "Would. . . would you be my first?"

The confusion fell from his face, concern taking its place. He cleared his throat and his voice was dangerously low, “Is this the wine talking?”

Your heart fell, you knew you shouldn’t have asked. You knew. Yet you asked anyway. You let out a shaky breath, moving to stand. “I shouldn’t have asked, forget about it.” You stood, moving to pick up what needed to go inside when his hand grasped yours.

“That’s not. . .” He started and you turned to him, he was on the edge of his seat, eyes wide as he stared up at you, “I mean is that something you truly want? It’s not just the wine?”

You took a moment to look at him, to really look. You’ve held his stare so many times before, but you’d never seen the look in his eyes that was there now. Like it was taking everything in him not to jump up and do what you’d asked.

Like he — like he wanted it just as much as you did.

You faced him completely, placing yourself between his knees and resting your hands on his shoulders, his hands falling to wrap around the backs of your thighs.

“I just don’t want you to regret asking me,” he muttered, his fingers drawing patterns across the backs of your legs, “I don’t want you regretting me.”

Your hands settled at the sides of his neck, the stubble on his chin scraping against your thumbs as you pushed to angle his head up to you again. You leaned down, your nose brushing against his as your breaths mingled between you.

“Bucky. . . " You started, but he shook his head.

"Wait," It was a gasp, like he was fighting himself, "You need to know that if you let me have you," he looked up at you and you were finally able to see how his pupils had blown, the blue of his eyes almost completely swallowed, "I don't plan on letting you go. Ever."

Your body froze in his hold, his fingers tightening on your legs. "What are you saying?"

His eyes softened on you and a small, nervous smile grew on his lips, "That I've wanted you since we met, but didn't want to scare you off." He tugged on your legs, pulling you into his lap, your knees landing on either side of his hips. His hands moved up to your lower back, his thumbs barely moving under your shirt, but stopping before he went any further. "I've been pining after you for years."

It was like you were snapped back to reality, the raspiness in his voice and his calloused fingers brushing against your skin bringing you back from your stupor. But there were no words to convey how you felt, at least not any you could form at the moment. The only thing your brain and your heart were telling you, was to press your lips against his.

So you did.

His fingers tightened against your back, pressing you into his chest as his lips moved in tandem with yours. It was slow at first, the soft nips to your bottom lip and the way his tongue hesitantly slid across your bottom lip. Your lips parted and the second your tongue met his, a groan rumbled through his chest, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt. Your hips ground down of their own accord and he swallowed the whine you let out as your core was met with the growing bulge under his jeans.

Time seemed to slow, and by the time you pulled back panting, eyes locked on his, you weren't sure how long you'd been there. But by the way your heart was soaring, you knew you didn't want to be anywhere else, ever again.

"We should go inside," he whispered, bringing up one of his hands to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. "I don't want the neighbors hearing you."

~~~

You two didn't last long apart once you pried yourself from his lap. The second you both set everything on the counter inside, his hands found their way to your skin again, pushing up the back of your shirt as he pulled you flush with his chest, his feet guiding you to his bedroom.

The edge of his bed met the backs of your knees, and he gently pushed you back, crawling up with you as you nudged your way up to his pillows. His lips attached to your neck, gently biting where it met your shoulder, his breath fanning against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"I'll take good care of you," He breathed, pulling back to look at you, "I promise."

You nodded, reaching around to shove his shirt up his back, "I know, I trust you." He smiled at you before pushing your shirt up, over your head and your arms. and dropping his head and dragging his lips across every inch of skin he could reach.

"Arch your back for me?" He asked, only lifting his lips enough to get the words out before they went back to nipping at your skin. You did as he asked, his fingers slipping through the clasp on your bra and undoing it. He helped you out of it, sitting up to pull it up from your arms and throwing it to the side to join your shirt.

You looked up to find his eyes locked on you and you couldn't help the sudden nervousness rise in your chest as he stared at you. His hands caught your arms trying to move to cover your breasts and he shook his head.

"Don't hide," He said, "You're fucking gorgeous."

You giggled, the butterflies in your stomach from his words mixed with the substances in your system making it impossible to fight it off and he smiled down at you.

"There she is," He whispered, "God, I love your laugh."

"Heavy with the compliments tonight aren't you?" You breathily asked, the heat in your skin rising as he removed his shirt, his muscled chest seemingly glowing in the warm hue of the lights.

"I've been waiting to give you some very specific compliments," He leaned over you, "So you better get used to it."

His lips captured yours again as his hands trailed down your stomach, his fingers gently pushing at the waistband of your shorts.

"Can I?" He asked, his fingers stopping.

"Please."

He chuckled at the eagerness in your voice before he pulled away and helped you out of your shorts, pulling your panties with them. He dragged his fingers down your hips and your thighs as he took you in. You could see his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace before he looked up at you.

"You're already wet sweetheart," He rasped, "Can I play with you?"

The fact that you were bare before him and he was still asking for permission sent even more heat to your core and you could feel yourself clench around nothing as your breath hitched in your throat. You nodded sitting up on your elbows to meet his lowering mouth with your own, earning a moan from him as you dragged your teeth along his bottom lip.

His fingers were sure in their movements as they met your folds, brushing up to circle around your clit before sliding back down to circle around your entrance, your hips bucking into his touch. He pulled his mouth away as he slowly slid a finger in, pressing the palm of his hand down into your clit.

"Oh I love this," He said, his head dropping down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth across it before swirling his tongue around it. He pumped his finger a few times before slowly adding a second, and growling into your skin as your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling at the strands, his fingers curling up, like he was searching for something.

"What?" It came out as a breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak any louder as you tried to keep the noises that built in your chest to a minimum. You knew they were normal, but you didn't want to seem as desperate as you really felt.

"I love that no one else has had the pleasure of seeing you like this, that no one has touched you," He said the words into your skin, his lips brushing against your nipple as he spoke and grinning when his fingers brushed against a certain spot.

"Shit - Do that again," the request broke through your lips in a whine, but you were too focused on him to notice. He grinned, curling his fingers into that spot again, pulling another wail from your throat.

"I love that no one's been inside you, that they don't get to have you," He angled his fingers to brush against that spongy spot over and over as he pumped them in and out, "But I do."

He kept his fingers pace agonizingly slow, to not drive you over the edge so quickly but you couldn't help the movement of your hips trying to get more friction. His other hand came up to your chest, gently pushing you down so you were comfortable.

"I'll go slow at first," He started, his fingers slowing even more, if that was possible, "Let you get used to it - to me, before I ruin you," His fingers began to spread, pushing your walls apart as they dragged across them before coming to a halt. "Do you know the traffic light system?" He asked, and at your nod he grinned, "Tell me."

You swallowed around the breath catching in your throat, "Red is stop, green is go, yellow is slow down." His smile grew.

"Perfect, I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with, so you use that if you need to, alright?" When you nodded, he went back to pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, noticing you practically biting through your lip to keep quiet and he tsked, his free hand moving to pull it from your teeth, "Let me hear you, Peach."

The second you let your lip go, a lewd moan filled the air. You went to bite your lip again, to hide the noises that were waiting to get out, and Bucky shook his head as his thumb found its way to your tongue, softly pressing down to keep your mouth open.

"Don't hide those noises from me," He practically begged, "I need to hear you." It was the tone of desperation that took over his calm confidence that had you nodding, promising not to hide anymore. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" You breathed, trying to hone your focus on him.

"Well, it's your first time," He started, pushing his fingers as far as he could and smiling at the moan you let out, "Was there anything you wanted to try?"

You thought back to the times you shamefully allowed yourself to fantasize about him. How he'd feel on top of you, in you. How his hips would feel driving into yours, the fullness you'd finally experience. How the weight of him would feel against your tongue.

You felt your skin get hot as you looked up at him, trying not to cover yourself with how self conscious you suddenly felt. But when your eyes met his, all you saw was patience and adoration as he watched you, so you swallowed down your nerves.

"I want to taste you," You muttered and he groaned, his fingers stilling in you, "and ride you."

"Shit," He smiled at you, "You're really not that innocent are you?"

He pulled his fingers free of you before you could answer, and you whined at the now empty feeling in between your legs, a whine that dragged on longer as you watched him lift his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he moaned as he tasted you.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I knew you'd taste good."

He pulled his body up from yours, ridding himself of the last of his clothes, and you couldn't help but look down, eyeing the length of his cock as it stood at attention. Unable to stop yourself from reaching out, your fingers brushed against the underside and the shiver that clearly ran up Bucky's spine gave you a boost of confidence.

You crawled across the bed to where he stood at the end, fighting the nerves that were tingling through every part of you as you slid to the floor in front of him. The carpet dug into your knees as you kneeled, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand came down to trace your cheek before cupping it.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," He said and you smiled.

"I know, I want to." You eyed him before moving your hand to grip him at the base, holding him still while you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, the taste of his skin and the precum leaking from the tip flooding your tongue.

"Oh, fuck," He gasped and his hips stuttered, pushing himself past your lips just a bit before he caught himself and pulled back. "Shit - sorry."

Instead of pulling your mouth off of him, you looked up at him and hummed before taking him further, watching his eyes flutter closed and roll back as your tongue slid along his length. His fingers twitched at his sides like they were reaching for you but he was fighting himself. You reached up with your free hand and pulled his grasping fingers towards the top of your head where they hesitantly laced into your hair.

He breathed a heavy sigh as he gently tugged on your hair, the whine you let out around him causing his hips to jolt again.

"Fuck, Peach," He rasped, his voice hoarse as he looked down at you. The sound of his voice and the way he looked at you alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing, but what he said next was what got to your head, sending you into a type of haze you'd never experienced before. "Unless you want me to fuck your pretty face, you gotta stop doing that."

Your free hand reached around his thigh, gripping it as you hummed again, the vibrations clearly running through every one of Bucky's nerves as he shuddered.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, a cocky grin growing on his lips as he looked down at you, your head bobbing, "You want me to fuck your pretty mouth before I fuck that pretty pussy?"

A high pitched whine rumbled in your throat and his hips bucked forward, his hand in your hair pulling your head forward. He was gentle with it, only pushing himself so far back in your mouth, doing his best not to make you gag, all the while a string of curses and compliments showered you as your eyes watered and a mix of your spit and his precum had started to slide down your chin.

He pulled your head back, pulling himself from your mouth, the stiffness in your jaw a welcome sensation when accompanied by the heavy look in his eyes. He took your hand in his, helping you move back to the bed and settling in between your legs as he kissed his way down the side of your neck, his hand wrapping around the other side. His teeth grazed your skin, sending chills through your spine as you reached around to grip at his back.

Pulling his head from your neck, his voice just above a whisper as he asked, "Are you ready?" You nodded, but he shook his head, "I need to hear you say it, baby, you gotta tell me." A bloom of warmth spread through your chest at the care exuding from the furrow in his brows.

You wrapped your hands around the sides of his head, your thumbs brushing along the lines of his jaw, "Fuck me, Bucky," You whispered, "please." He nodded before capturing your mouth with his once before sitting up a bit and reaching over to his nightstand, his hand coming back with a condom and a small bottle of what you assumed was lube.

Once he had the condom on, he popped open the cap of the lube, pouring some in his hand and spreading it over himself, then getting a bit more and looking at you. "It's a little cold, but it's gonna help, I promise."

"Okay," You nodded and braced yourself for the chill that came when his fingers rubbed the lube through your folds, your skin sensitive to his calloused skin.

"Spread your legs baby," he watched your legs open for him, "that's it. . . wider." Your legs spread as far as you could, "Such a good girl all spread out for me." He smiled before lining the head of his cock up with your dripping entrance, slowly pushing in with a hiss.

The stretch burned and your hands shot to cling to his arms, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. His eyes locked with yours, "Breathe baby, breathe," He strained, "I'm right here." You let loose a tight breath through your nose as you held his gaze. He kept pushing in, taking his time until he was all the way in, a strange type of fullness taking over you - an addicting kind.

He dragged his fingers across your skin, kneading the muscles in your hips, legs, and arms as he waited for you to adjust, talking you through it with a whole array of compliments. When the burn from the stretch turned into a need for him to move, you shifted your hips and loosed a moan when the head of his cock brushed against that same spot his fingers had expertly found earlier.

A breathy chuckle fanned your skin as he smiled down at you, "Ready for me to move?" At your quiet confirmation, he began slowly rocking his hips into yours, the drag of his cock against your walls addicting - but you needed more.

"M-more. . ." you panted and he smirked.

"More what?" He asked, not stopping the slow drag movements of his hips as if he knew it was driving you mad, which he probably did if you were being honest.

You swallowed your nerves, "Faster," he brushed that spot again, "fuck - harder."

He nodded, moving his hands to the back of each of your knees, holding your legs open, "Can I have my way with you? You can ride me later?" You forgot about that, about saying you wanted to ride him. You did, you wanted him under you writhing for you like you were for him now, but you weren't sure you could handle taking over right now so you nodded. You just wanted him to make you feel good and to fucking move already.

"Yes," You whined, trying to move your hips against his again, but with how he was holding your legs, you couldn't move much. "Just move." You didn't care how desperate you sounded now, you were going to go insane if he didn't do something other than slowly drag himself in and out, stopping just before hitting that perfect spot.

"Say please." You scowled at him. Sometimes you forgot how cocky he could get, though this was the first time his cockiness made you even more needy for him.

"Fuck," You muttered, the pressure growing low in your belly, "please Bucky."

"I got you," He pushed you knees closer to your chest as he leaned over you, thrusting into the base, hitting that spot that made you see stars before pulling out just as quick and doing it again.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of your chest as you held his gaze, his hips unrelenting in his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling your ears in between the moans that fell from both of you.

"God," He panted, "You feel so good around me, I always knew you would." He dropped one of your legs, reaching up to palm your breast and taking the pebbled nipple in between his fingers, "Fuckin' made for me, weren't you?"

A loud moan tore its way through your throat as you reached for him, your hand finding his neck, nails raking down to the middle of his chest, his hips driving home even harder. You could feel that somewhat familiar crest quickly approaching, knowing the feeling from your nights alone where all you had were your fingers. But you didn't want this to end. You wanted to stay here, his cock filling you up and hitting that one spot over and over.

Something in your face, or maybe it was the way your breathing became more controlled, told Bucky that you were trying to fight it off as long as you could and he smirked before slowing down just enough to let your knees go and tell you, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

You quickly followed his instruction as he leaned over you, grabbing the headboard with one hand and circling your clit with the thumb of his other. You couldn't hold back the almost scream that erupted from your chest at the sensation and he smiled.

"Don't fight it, baby," He coaxed, "Just let it happen." He quickened the pace of both his hips and his thumb, trying to push you over that edge. "C'mon, Peach," he was practically begging now, "Let me have it."

The thread holding you back was fraying quickly, ready to snap and he knew it.

Your breath hitched and he smirked, still keeping his pace as he muttered, "Give it to me."

The thread snapped. Pleasure crashed into you, a roaring in your ears as your body tightened under his, your walls clenching around him as he continued his determined thrusts. Your hands grasped at his back, your nails raking down his skin. Your legs locked around him.

You were sure you screamed.

"That's it, baby," He panted into your ear, his hips becoming sporadic, "Keep coming - fuck - keep gripping me like that." You weren't sure how exactly to do what he was asking, but in your daze, you did your best, tightening your muscles as much as you could.

He gasped, gripping your hip tight enough to bruise you were sure. His hips stilled and his head buried into your neck as he shouted.

He gently rested his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress and trailing small kisses along your neck and shoulder where his head still rested. He waited until you'd caught your breath and your eyes were clear before speaking again.

"Are. . . are you alright?" He asked, worry replacing the pleasure that had been on his face just moments ago.

You gave him a dizzy smile, nodding, "I'm perfect."

A large smile grew on his face as he chuckled, his hand raising to cup your chin, pulling himself forward to gently press his lips to yours. "Good," he muttered against your lips, "You make such a cute face when you cum, did you know that?"

You felt your skin heat as you tried to shove his now laughing face away from you. "Shut up!"

"What?!" He roared, "It's true!" He grabbed your hands in his, pinning them above you. He was still smiling as he looked down at you, his pupils still blown wide, "I wanna see you make it again."

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

If you want to be updated when i post a new story, please follow my library blog and turn on notifications <;3 @remis-library

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bunnylovesani · 1 month

Text

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal.

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response.

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly.

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession.

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant.

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face.

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes.

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger.

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.”

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage.

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock.

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?”

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal.

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button.

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?”

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly.

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring.

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe.

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly.

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both.

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?”

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears.

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey.

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust.

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible.

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her?

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her.

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband.

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.”

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth.

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.”

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care.

“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees.

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.”

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness.

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper.

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours.

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls.

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.”

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling.

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed.

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse.

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure.

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?”

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.”

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation.

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.”

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen.

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.”

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon.

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him.

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust?

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back.

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly.

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs.

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.”

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak.

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it.

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass.

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart.

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.”

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings.

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.”

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #matthew grey gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic #spencer reid fan fiction

597 notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 6 months

Text

kinktober !

kink: somnophilia

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

somnophilia: a sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person.

You checked the time, yet again. 11:39PM. You'd known Minho would be home late late tonight, but you couldn't help but hold out hope anyways. Partly because you loved falling asleep beside him. Mainly because you wanted him to rail you before bed.

You really, really wanted to try and stay awake for him… But it had been a long day, and there was only so many times you could force your eyes to re-open when they drifted shut. You huffed sulkily as you pulled out your phone to text Minho.

'can't stay awake much longer min, might be asleep when you get back :( morning sex instead?'

Less than a minute later, your phone began to buzz. Minho? He was calling you… To tell you he was on his way to fuck you imminently? You hoped so.

"Hey, sleepy," he greeted you.

"Hey," you mumbled back. "Practice going okay?"

"Yeah, going pretty well. I'd rather be home with you, though."

You groaned down the phone. "Ditch them. Come fuck me."

Minho's laugh rang through the speaker. "Listen, I just wanted to catch you quickly before you fall asleep. Do you still want me to fuck you when I get home?"

You blinked. "I can't stay awake, Minho, I told you-"

"That's not what I asked," he cut you off. "It's up to you. But if you want me to fuck you anyways, I will."

Oh. You'd spoken about this before, a while ago. Somnophilia. It was mainly a hypothetical conversation, but you'd both expressed interest in it.

Tired as you were, you grinned. "Yeah, baby, that sounds good."

"See you later, honey."

A few minutes ago, you'd been on the edge of sleep. Now you were so excited you didn't know if you could fall asleep. You took off your pyjamas, setting yourself up for easy access, before climbing back into bed and closing your eyes tight. Thankfully, you managed to fall asleep.

♡

Minho couldn't hold back a soft gasp when he saw your sleeping form. So peaceful, as always, laid on your side as you cuddled into the blankets. Your eyes were shut, your breathing slow and gentle. He couldn't fucking wait to disturb you.

He dropped his towel, fresh from his shower after practice, and climbed onto the bed ever so gently; he didn't want to come bounding in and wake you from the outset. If it were up to him, you'd remain sound asleep until the second he thrusted his dick inside you. Though, realistically, he was aware of his own fingering skills, and doubted that you were capable of sleeping through that.

His face lit up when he pulled back the blankets to find you unclothed. His hand ghosted down your figure, trailing over your breast, down your side, across the curve of your hip. He'd made sure to warm his hands upon getting home, not wanting to startle you. He moved you so gently, easing you onto your back so that he could spread your legs. You let out a quiet sigh, and he paused for a moment, looking for any signs of stirring. Thankfully, you remained asleep.

He kneeled between your legs, taking a risky move and leaned down, blowing cool air onto your nipples. They reacted within seconds, visibly hardening, making Minho's cock twitch.

He pinched your clit gently between his forefinger and thumb, monitoring your reactions carefully. He circled it with his thumb, building the pressure slightly when he was reassured that it wasn't waking you up.

You were getting wetter and wetter as Minho continued his motions, and he had noticed this. He let a finger trace over your hole lightly, just enough to gather some of the wetness and slick up your clit. He rubbed it faster, his fingers sliding around with little friction.

Minho's cock was only growing harder as the minutes passed. He resisted the urge to stroke himself as he played with you. As much as he wanted some of the pressure to be relieved, he also wanted your pussy to be the very first thing he felt.

He slipped a finger inside you, just one, easing it inside so slowly. He had to stifle a moan - you were impossibly tight, clenched around his digit, though you were so wet that it slid in easily. He found your g-spot, curling upwards to meet it. You let out a sleepy whimper at this, and his head snapped up to monitor your expression. Your eyebrows were furrowed, but you still seemed far from waking. He sighed in relief.

Minho adored teasing you, so he was no stranger to going slow. But tonight, it was more about keeping you asleep than driving you to tears with frustration. He slid another finger inside you, stretching you open, preparing you for his dick. He scissored his fingers, opening you up until he was satisfied he could fit himself inside without hurting you.

He was practically shaking with excitement as he lined up the tip of his cock with your hole.

"Fuck," he cursed quietly, easing the tip in. He held you by the hips, his fingertips light as a feather as he angled them just so. And then, in one swift motion, he pushed his dick inside you, all the way to the hilt.

You were sleeping soundly, but there was no way you could sleep through that.

"M-Min?" you whimpered, bleary-eyed.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed you, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Go back to sleep."

You closed your eyes obediently, remaining in that warm, sleepy state. Minho began to thrust slowly, pulling himself out of your pussy before sliding all the way back in. You were so mind-numbingly tight, so fucking wet. He felt like he was going crazy. He so wished to fuck you ruthlessly, to pound into you hard and fast and make you cry out his name. But, he couldn't. Not when you were right where he wanted you. Drowsy, pliant, so quiet and still.

You raised your arms, holding them out to him, signaling that you wanted him closer, and he just about melted. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. He was in paradise - he couldn't believe his luck, that he had a partner who would let him do this. That you trusted him enough to give your entire self to him, in this state. It was almost enough to make him blow his load already.

You buried your head in the crook of Minho's neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of his soap. The quiet, breathy moans you let out at each thrust were like music to his ears.

Minho was buried so deep inside you. He began to fuck you faster - compared to the ferocity he usually fucked you with, his pace was still fairly tame. But to your sleepy self, it was completely and utterly mind-blowing. You squeaked, the noise muffled by Minho's skin.

He couldn't take it any more; it was all too much. Your warm body pressed flush against his, your arms wrapped around him, the way you clung to him. Your soft, sleepy noises, the way you let your body move with his. You let him use you so willingly.

Minho removed himself from your grasp, straddling your chest, still moving so gently so as to disturb you as little as possible. He gripped your cheeks, pushing open your mouth and eased the tip of his dick onto your tongue. You began to suck, completely instinctively, making Minho moan aloud.

You came around a little, and started sucking with more intention, and he came within seconds, shooting his salty seed onto your tongue. You swallowed it gratefully.

"Was I good, Minho?" you asked, looking up at him through tired, squinted eyes.

"So good, baby," he panted. "So fucking good."

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months

Text

.⋆｡Gone But Here All The Same｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost�� Riley x plus size reader

Being a military wife could be quite lonesome especially being a military wife to a ghost but he knows exactly what you need to make you feel less alone

Warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation (m&f), some reference to death and PTSD but not really, dom!Simon, sex toys, bit of voice kink, size kink

WC: 1.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You knew what you were getting into when you married Simon. He was a member of the special forces who technically didn’t exist- you were used to the long months when he was shipped off, the anxiety that John Price would show up on your doorstep with a frown and a letter from the military, the anger and the fear that your husband carried on his chest every moment of the day.

You knew all of this and yet you still married him because he was the best thing to ever happen to you and besides that, he was the best lay you ever had.

Simon had ruined you for any other man (and toy) the moment that his thick fingers slipped between your soft thighs and into your panties under the bar table on your third date. He drove you insane with the smallest of touches, playing with your body with a finesse that only a seasoned soldier could.

You constantly ached for him, feeling so hollow without his thick cock stretching you to your absolute limit. Sure the reunion sex was absolutely mind-blowing every time he came home but with Simon leaving for sometimes months at a time, your need for any sort of pleasure drove you insane.

But luckily, he was going to call you today.

Simon called when he could, usually it was from a private number or some foreign phone, a different number every time. He had created a system with you, he would always call on the 13th of every month and if he missed it, he would call you on the 23rd.

You sat on your shared bed, staring intently at your phone. The minutes ticked by at a snail's pace as the sun cast a warm orange glow over the large bedroom. You sighed when the clock hit 8, you doubted that he would call today.

A groan slipped from your lips as you rocked forward to slip from the bed, but just then the phone screen lit up, displaying a cute photo of you and Simon on your honeymoon as a random number rolled across the top. You snatched it up and quickly answered.

“Simon.” You breathed, relief flooding your body. His chuckle crackled through your phone’s speaker.

“Hello to you too bunny.” Your smile grew even wider if that was at all possible. He only ever called you bunny when he was in a good mood. You flopped back against the mountain of pillows propped against the headboard, keeping your phone as close as you could in lieu of your husband’s massive body.

“Are you coming home soon?” You tugged the collar of the shirt you were wearing up to your nose, inhaling the fading scent of his cologne.

He was silent for a moment. “No, not yet love.” ‘Love’, that’s what he called you when he was trying to let you down easy. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he quickly spoke again. “I do have a present for you bunny.” He purred, his voice dropping down an octave to that deep baritone that haunted your wet dreams.

“But nothing was delivered to the house?”

“Oh bunny.” He said mockingly. “Your present is already in the house. How ‘bout you check my nightstand.” You practically dove over to his side of the bed in your excitement, Simon’s broken laughter following after you.

The drawer slid open and you gasped. Sitting on top of one of his many spare balaclavas and a book he was in the middle of reading was an enormous dildo. There was a suction cup on the bottom where the balls should have been and with a little bow sitting on the head, it made you laugh a little under your breath. “Got it?”

Simon’s voice broke you out of your trance. You snatched up the toy and gasped at the weight of it. “Simon what is this?” You settled back into your original spot, your fingers flexing around the purple silicon almost unconsciously.

“I would think you know what it is considering how often you beg for it.” He said right as your middle finger brushed against an incredibly life-like vein towards the base of the fake cock, a vein you knew very well.

“Is this- is this your cock?” Molten heat pooled between your thighs as you held the toy even tighter, now realising that you were indeed holding a replica of your husband’s generous gift. Already you were using your free hand to pull your soaked panties down your legs.

“Damn right it is. You think I would let another cock near you?” He snarled, sending another wave of arousal right to your core. You moaned softly into the air as your fingers brushed against your aching clit, smearing your wetness over the sedative bundle of nerves. “Oh you like that don’t you.”

“Si.” His groan echoed through the room and you could faintly hear the sound of a zipper.

“Go on bunny, get that cunt nice and stretched for my cock.” You were dripping onto the comforter beneath you, desperately eager to follow each and every one of his orders. Excitement began to curl in your stomach as two of your fingers easily slipped into your cunt. It wasn’t nearly enough for you, your fingers weren’t as thick or as long as your husband’s but they were warming you up well enough.

“Can I put it in now?” You pleaded into your phone, needing your husband’s cock nestled inside you once more, even if it was only a replica. He let out a sniffled groan and you could just picture the way he was biting his lip to keep his voice down, his blue eyes squeezed shut as he gripped the base of his dick to stave off his end. He always got noisy when he was about to cum.

“I don’t think your little cunt can handle it.” He managed to get out through clenched teeth. You nodded frantically. “Words bunny.” He snarled, briefly jolting you from your haze.

“Yes Si, can handle you. Always do.” Your other hand practically flew between your thighs, the toy gripped so tightly you could feel the silicon give under the tension. The cold tip bumped against your hot skin as you notched it at your entrance.

Your cunt burned as it finally breached you, dousing the ache in your belly. You whined with pain and Simon moaned. It was no secret that he loved the size difference between you both, he revealed in the way you cried when he fucked you, his massive cock stirring up your guts in the most deliciously painful way.

You could barely breathe as you reached the halfway mark. “So big.” Your back arched and you forced another inch inside you. A wet slapping came through your phone’s speakers along with Simon’s muffled breaths.

An image of him flashed behind your eyes- fully dressed in dark clothes but with his fly open and his thick cargo pants shuffled down his hips just enough for his cock to be free. The ridged lines of his skull mask would hide the way his lips twitched as he got lost in the feel of his gloved fist around his aching length.

You cried out as you finally reached the hilt of the dildo, finally you were full of him once more. “Simon, you feel so good.” You pulled the toy out only a few centimetres before pushing it back in and sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.

“Fuck bunny, keep talking.” He ground out as the wet sounds on his end picked up the pace.

“I can feel you in my belly, so big. Stretching me out.” Your hand began to move faster. It wasn’t the same as when your husband fucked you, you couldn’t feel his weight keeping you picked to the mattress or the way his cock would throb and twitch within you but the sound of his voice right next to your ear was all the same.

His groan resonated through your chest, lighting your nerves up with that familiar fire. “Take that fucking cock, bunny, be a good girl and fuck yourself on it. Let me hear you cum for me.”

You thrashed on top of the bed, hips rolling down to meet your hand with each thrust. “Simon!” You clumsily strummed your clit with your other hand so wishing for the rough fingertips of your husband instead. “‘M close.” You mewled.

“Cum.” The connection crackled with the depth of his voice but the effect was still the same. Your body seized suddenly as your jaw dropped in a silent scream. Pleasure rippled through you like a tidal wave, both easing and fuelling your lust.

As soon as your breath returned to your lungs, you chanted his name over and over again as you rode out your high. “That’s it, good bunny.” Simon cooed, his breath hitching as he thrust into his fist with an added fervour. You were delirious with ecstasy, the toy inside of you now only keeping you full while your orgasm began to fade.

“Simon. Need your cum.” You begged softly into the phone. “Please Simon. Need it so bad.” He gasped and then moaned deep in his chest.

“Shit.” He said breathlessly after a moment. “Shoulda brought a towel with me.” He grumbled and you laughed.

As gently as you could, you eased the dildo from your cunt. You winced at the stretch, now feeling sore and satisfied for the first time in two months. “How much longer do you have left on the call?” There was a grunt and then the sound of a zipper.

“Not long.” You sighed and relaxed back into the pillows. Simon always got quiet after sex, his pillow talk was practically non-existent.

“I love you.” There was a beat and then.

“Go take a shower and have a snack. Don’t forget water.” He never said it back but you felt it all the same. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

There was muffled shouting in the background and he sighed. “Stay safe out there. Don’t worry about me.” Your fingers curled around your phone and tucked it closer to your body.

“Always do bunny.” He replied simply. “Always do.”

You held onto the device long after he finally hung up. It was hard being Simon’s wife but it was also the easiest thing in the world because you knew that he would always be right there, even when he was thousands of miles away.

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etherealstar-writes · 3 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 1

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: one

warnings: none, it's just going to be very chaotic

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

elton added stairway, the karate kid, willybum and 15 others

elton

hey!

hello!

@everyone

brightness

what the hell is this groupchat name 😭😭

willybum

nope

i did not consent to this

CHANGE MY NAME RIGHT NOW TOONE

stairway

LMAO NOT WILLYBUM 😭

willybum

as if yours is any better stairway

rusty metal

i don't think i even wanna know why i'm here

elton

excuse me?

no hey or how i'm doing?

i could be dead you know

daily

you seem pretty alive

elton

well jokes on you

i'm dead inside

elton added lauren 1 and lauren 2

elton

lauren squared added!

heyo

lauren 2 left

stairway

LMAO 😭💀

JAMES REALLY SAID HELL NAH

elton

her finger probably just slipped

come on man

elton added lauren 2

lauren 2 left

stairway

SHE WASTED NO TIME 😭

earpsy

damn she completely violated you

willybum

that is so embarrassing

elton

what did i ever do to her :((

door knob

do i need to remind you about the prank you pulled yesterday?

elton

you know what

you guys are all mean

where's lessi when i need her

@ the karate kid

the karate kid

what the hell is this?

who even are you all?

and what are these names??!

elton?

who the hell names their kid elton

that's actually so sad

this is probably a groupchat with a bunch of teenage boys

elton

of course lessi is here

pretending that she doesn't

know us as usual

willybum

honestly

someone needs to slam her ego

with a truck just because

she's trending as fan favourite

brightness

damn sound a bit jelly there williamson

kie

well you can't lie, lessi is a pretty hot person

the karate kid

the hell??

am i supposed to be lessi?

i don't even know a lessi

meado

i didn't know you changed names lessi

elton

right??

who ate her food and put her in a sour mood?

it definitely wasn't me this time.

stairway

i'm putting on a movie

you all joining?

rusty metal

what are we watching?

stairway

harry potter

elton

DON'T START WITHOUT ME!!

also

less! where the hell are you?

we'll start the movie with you!

alessia???

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

The majority of the squad were seated squished together in georgia's hotel room for their movie night. They waited for Alessia to join them, but the blonde striker was nowhere to be found or heard from.

And now they were starting to lose their patience with her.

"Did she fall asleep again?" Mary sighed.

"I wouldn't be surprised. I'm gonna give her a call," Ella stated.

She scrolled through her phone to find her contact and pressed call, putting on speaker mode so everyone could hear.

They waited a few moments before the call was finally accepted, but there was only silence from the other end.

"Yo, Lessi, where the hell are you?!"

"What? Who is this?" An unfamiliar voice, that definitely didn't belong to Alessia, spoke.

They all shared a confused glance.

"What the hell happened to your voice, Alessia?" Ella chuckled. "Are you sick or something?"

You, on the other side, groaned. "Oh my god, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not Alessia! I don't even know a Alessia or Lessi!"

Ella was still suspicious that this might be a joke Alessia would be playing. "Well, are you at home with a girl called Alessia? Or well, bed ...."

"WHAT? Why the hell would I be at home with a Alessia?! I told you already, I don't even know her!"

Now they all were a hundred percent sure that you were definitely not Alessia.

Georgia was scrolling through her phone before her eyes widened. "Guys, that is not Alessia's number. Ella added a random number."

"Oh, well this is awkward ..." Ella chuckled awkwardly.

"Of course it is!" You stated. "Your group chat and usernames are weird. How old are you all?"

They all shared a glance seeing that it was fair to tell you that for blowing up your phone the whole evening. They answered that it varied from twenties to thirties.

"Oh, alright ... well I need to go so I'm gonna hang up. Goodbye."

Before Ella could reply, you ended the call, leaving the group in silence for a moment.

"Well that was something ...." Niamh broke the silence.

"Yeah no kidding. Of course Toone would do something like this," Leah said.

"Hey!" Ella complained. "It's not my fault Alessia got a new number!"

"Why don't I add the real Alessia to the group chat now?" Georgia suggested while everyone nodded in agreement.

part two here

#lionesses x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #engwnt x reader #leah williamson x reader #ella toone x reader #alessia russo x reader #georgia stanway x reader #niamh charles x reader #woso #woso fanfics

598 notes · View notes

munsster · 1 year

Note

hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #unrequited crush #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #angst #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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imagines-all-day-everyday · 1 year

Text

friends

summary: *yn* and damon are friends. good friends. just friends. nothing more, nothing less. until elena's eighteenth birthday party and the captain of the waterpolo team comes along, leaving damon wondering how much he really likes that term.

warnings: swearing, drinking, fluff, vampire stuff, cheating (kinda??)

"What do you think?"

"Give me a spin."

*yn* resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she complied, shuffling her body around in a circle.

"Oooh I really like this one." Caroline observed. She shifted on the small couch placed into the middle of the boutique as she took a few moments to run her eyes over *yn*'s body.

"I think this might be the one."

This time *yn* couldn't restrain herself as she threw her hands up in frustration and huffed.

"Care, you've said that about all of them."

"I'm sorry, it's not my fault you look good in everything!"

*yn* groaned in response as she shoved the curtain across the metal rod, concealing herself from Caroline once more.

"I give up." She exclaimed dramatically as she pulled the red dress over her head. "I'm just going to go with the blue one."

"If that's what it takes for you to stop whining." She heard Caroline mumble on the other side of the curtain.

"I heard that!"

The shrill ringtone of Caroline's phone rung out through the store.

"Oh sorry Elena's calling, be right back."

*yn* shook her head as she heard Caroline answer the phone and hurry out of the store. She slipped the blue dress back on over her head just as her shoulder bag began to vibrate.

She couldn't fight the small smile threatening to tug on her lips at the Caller ID.

"Well if it isn't my second favourite Salvatore brother."

"Ouch, why is it that you're always so mean to me?" Damon's amused voice slipped out through the speaker.

"Because being nice is boring." She answered as she slipped out of the change room.

"Using my own logic against me, I've taught you too well." She smiled at his words as she made her way over to the mirror.

"What are you up to? Down for a little road trip?"

"Can't sorry. Helping Caroline plan Elena's birthday party." *yn* twisted around in front of the mirror, scrutinising the dress from every angle.

"Ah yes the big eighteenth how could I forget."

"Why? Where are you going?" *yn* asked as she finally drew her attention away from the mirror.

"Tennessee."

Her brow furrowed at her answer. "Another potential Stefan victim?"

"Yep. The sheriff gave Elena another location."

"She's not going with-"

"No way. Told her I'd take it on myself."

There was a pause as *yn* glanced out the shop window to make sure Caroline was still out the front on the phone, her ears occupied and unable to listen in.

"They're going to be like the other victims, aren't they?"

"Probably."

She felt herself grow nauseous at the thought of what Damon would no doubt find in Tennessee. Even his verbal reports back to her had been enough to make her skin crawl. If there had been any doubts before if Stefan was a ripper, they were long gone by now.

"Are we ever going to tell her?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. She heard Damon let out a sigh.

"If I find him and sort him out we won't ever have to."

"Alright just- just let me know how you go ok?" Despite her best efforts she couldn't hide the concern laced through her words.

"Always do. See you at the party."

"See you at the party."

"Oh *yln*-"

Damon's voice crackled through the speaker just as her finger hovered over the button to end the call.

"Yeah?" She pressed the phone to her ear once more.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Wear the red one." *yn* swore she could practically hear his smirk through the phone before he hung up.

*yn* whirled around, the phone still pressed to her ear. Her eyes darted around the store and then out through the windows that revealed the main street of Mystic Falls.

Her heart was thumping in her chest and a blush was creeping up onto her cheeks. Damon was no where to be seen.

"Ugh god Elena is still complaining about this party, I swear it's like no one wants to have fun in this town anymore- are you ok?"

*yn* turned to see Caroline staring at her, brow raised when she noticed her flushed complexion.

"Uh- yeah fine." *yn* lied, swallowing as she turned to go back into the change room.

"Ok..." Caroline studied her before turning her attention back to her phone.

She glanced up once more after a few moments to see *yn* emerging from the change room, back in her jeans and tank top. Her brow furrowed.

"I thought you were getting the blue one?"

"Yeah I um-"

*yn* glanced down at the red material clutched in her arms.

"I changed my mind."

The bass felt like it was pounding against her skull. Sweaty bodies were brushing against her on all sides. She could already feel the back of her knees start to slick with sweat as she weaved through the crowd.

Apparently this was Caroline's definition of a 'small' party. Bodies occupied every square inch of the Salvatore boarding house. Her eyes slid over the hundred or so faces. Some she recognised from school. Others she had never seen before in her life.

She smoothed down the front of her short dress as she stepped around a couple making out at the bottom of the staircase. She could feel multiple sets of eyes on her as she moved deeper into the house. The waterpolo team bunched in the corner didn't even make an attempt to look away as she walked past.

She smirked to herself. She'd shown up with the intention of looking hot, so far it seemed to be going according to plan. She surveyed the crowd once more. A flash of blonde hair caught her eye, which she instantly made a beeline for.

"Care!"

Caroline swung around at *yn*'s voice, a grin spreading across her lips as she looked her up and down.

"Oh my freaking god you look so hot." She squealed as she lurched forward and wrapped her arms her shoulders.

*yn* laughed and squeezed her tightly back. "So do you."

"Who the hell are these people?"

"Friends of friends." Caroline shrugged. *yn* raised a brow at her before turning to survey the room. Her eyes involuntarily searching for one person in particular.

"C'mon, I need a shot." Caroline announced as she grabbed *yn*'s hand and tugged her towards the drinks table.

*yn* grinned as she let Caroline lead her through the crowd.

"Is everyone here?" *yn* shouted over the thumping bass.

"I think so." Caroline shouted back, her eyes gleaming as she spotted a bottle of tequila.

*yn* turned around, her eyes scanning the crowd once more.

"Oh actually I haven't seen that reporter girl yet, what's her name - Andrea or-"

"What?" *yn*'s neck snapped back around to look at Caroline.

"Andie's coming?"

Caroline paused and glanced up at her. She had just been about to pour the clear liquid into a shot glass.

"Yeah, Damon insisted on inviting her. Poor girl probably didn't have a choice knowing him." Caroline remarked as she turned her attention back to the bottle in her hand.

"Right." *yn* swallowed. She pressed her lips into a hard line. "Yeah."

She felt sick as she glanced down at the tight red dress covering her body. She suddenly felt incredibly stupid. That for even a moment she had let herself divulge in suppressed fantasies, that she'd let herself get hopeful that something might happen with the vampire that was supposed to be nothing more than one of her good friends.

That she had let herself indulge those feelings that she had always worked so hard to deny and ignore.

"Ok here-" Caroline cut herself off, the shot in her hand for *yn* to take suspended in midair.

She studied her friend for a moment. She withheld a sigh when she saw the tears threatening to pool in *yn*'s eyes.

"Ok no." She announced, slamming the shots back onto the table. The sound made *yn* jump, her eyes focusing back on her friend.

"We are so not doing this tonight."

"Wha-"

"You are not letting your night get ruined by Damon Salvatore of all people."

"Care-" *yn* began, glancing over her shoulder quickly to make sure Damon wasn't in sight before turning back to her. "He's my friend."

"Oh please." Caroline scoffed as she folded her arms in front of her chest. "You don't think I can tell when my best friend is crushing on a guy?"

*yn* felt her cheeks redden.

"Although I've been trying to ignore it given it is Damon-"

She ignored the glare *yn* gave her. "- and I've been hoping it was just a little phase, but clearly that was wishful thinking." She sighed as she gestured to *yn* who had opened her mouth to respond.

"I've known for months, so don't even try and deny it."

*yn* clamped her mouth shut. She felt her resolve weaken under Caroline's stare.

"If you tell a soul-"

"-you'll stake me I know. Your secret's safe with me." Caroline insisted.

With that *yn* felt her shoulders slump in defeat as her barriers finally crumbled down.

"I like him. A lot." She admitted.

"I think I always knew there was something there, but I don't think I realised how much until-" She cut herself off and bit her lip as she felt her eyes begin to water.

Caroline's hard gaze softened at the sight. "Hey, it's ok." Caroline comforted her, running a hand down her arm. "Do you want to go somewhere and talk about it?"

"No." *yn* shook her head as she sniffed. "No, like you said. I don't want this to ruin my night. It's been so long since we've actually had fun."

It was true. Before Damon and Stefan returned to Mystic Falls, *yn* was the life of the party, drinking almost every weekend and staying out way past curfew - much to her parents chagrin. But now, she could barely even remember what it felt like to be drunk and let loose.

Her answer made Caroline's eyes brighten. "Exactly, and you look way too hot right now to be crying over a guy."

*yn* followed Caroline's gaze to look around the room of warm bodies. Her eyes flitted over a few guys, her confidence sparking once more when she saw their eyes were already on her.

"You could have literally anyone you want in here."

She could have anyone she wanted, except for Damon. Almost as if she could read her mind, Caroline grabbed her hand.

"Ok, in my opinion you have two options right now." Caroline continued.

"You can go and tell Damon how you feel and let it out, or-" She paused as she raised the cup up to *yn*'s face. "You can get trashed with me and forget all about stupid boys."

*yn* raised a brow, not missing the hint of bitterness in Caroline's voice. It sounded a little bit too personal to just be about Damon. She decided to let it go however, as her eyes flickered down to the red solo cup and then back at Caroline.

"Make it a double."

Caroline's grin widened, "now you're sounding like my best friend."

*yn* watched as she eagerly poured extra into her cup, internally wincing at how free handed she was being with the liquor.

"To being hot and getting drunk." Caroline toasted once she'd handed *yn* her drink.

"To being hot and getting drunk." *yn* echoed, clinking their cups together before pressing it to her lips. She winced as the liquor burned her throat. She definitely had not missed that feeling.

"Ugh, speak of the devil."

*yn* followed Caroline's gaze behind her shoulder. She twisted around to see Elena and Damon making their way down the stairs.

Damon was dressed in black jeans and a blue button down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He looked annoyingly hot, as usual.

The pair hadn't spotted them yet as Caroline and *yn* made their way through the crowd towards them.

"Happy birthday!" Her and Caroline chorused as they reached them.

"You look amazing." *yn* grinned as she pulled her other best friend in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, so do you. The red is hot." Elena chuckled as they pulled away from each other.

*yn* could feel Damon's eyes on her but kept her focus on Elena.

"You like?" Caroline asked her, gesturing to the party around them.

"I-" Elena cut herself off as she glanced around the room. "This is keeping it small?"

Caroline didn't answer her, instead shooting her an innocent smile.

Elena couldn't fight the grin spreading across her lips as she let out a dramatic and defeated huff, "what are we drinking?"

Caroline giggled and gripped Elena's arm and tugged her towards the drinks table.

*yn* watched them go, feeling Damon's eyes still on her. Caroline's words echoed in her head. She was right. Just because she had feelings doesn't mean she had to act weird or let it get to her. He was still her friend, first and foremost. There was no reason to change how she was around him.

She took a breath and made sure her face was the perfect picture of normalcy before turning around to meet his gaze.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." He answered, his eyes dragging down her front before flicking up to her face.

"Nice dress."

"Thanks, I had help picking it out."

A smirk twitched up onto his lips. "Well, they've got excellent taste. They're a good friend."

Friend. The word stung more than it usually did.

She forced a smile onto her lips, "that they are."

"*yn*! Get over here we're doing birthday shots!" Elena called out to her.

*yn* glanced over her shoulder and nodded before looking back up at Damon.

"Sorry, duty calls." She shrugged innocently.

"Please." He gestured for her to go. It was then that she noticed the bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Don't let me stop you."

She shot him one last grin before making her way towards Elena and Caroline.

Damon's eyes followed her the whole way there.

"I am every parents worst nightmare." Alaric sighed. "I am the chaperone teacher from hell."

"I love high school parties." Damon grinned as he jumped up onto the ledge.

"Isn't Andie supposed to be coming?"

"10 o'clock broadcast, she'll be here in a little bit."

"Uh huh." Ric remarked as he took a deep drink. Damon's brow furrowed as he glanced up from his glass.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What is what supposed to mean?"

"That little face you just made. Something wrong with Andie?"

"With your fake compelled girlfriend? No not at all." Ric drawled sarcastically.

"Hey it's a complicated dynamic ok."

"Or it's a distraction."

Damon's eyes narrowed even further. "Distraction from what exactly Ric?"

"Hey Mr Saltzman!" A loud voice prevented Ric from answering.

They both glanced up to see a tall, muscular guy approaching them through the door that led into the party. He was wearing a Mystic Falls High varsity jacket.

Damon frowned when he saw a flash of red behind him. He froze mid sip when he saw that flash of red belonged to *yn*'s dress.

"Jake." Alaric nodded in greeting.

Jake came to a stand still in front of them, a wide grin on his face. "*yn* told me you were chaperoning."

Then all eyes were on *yn*, who was now standing beside him. Jake's arm wrapped around her shoulders to pull her against him.

Damon felt something twist inside him.

"Had to see it for myself."

"Here I am." Alaric chuckled awkwardly.

"See I told you!" She giggled as she swayed against him. Her eyes were glassy and cheeks were flushed. A bottle in her hand.

"Badass Mr Saltzman." Jake complimented. It was then that his eyes landed on Damon. Confusion flashed across his features as he tried to place him.

"Oh Jake this is my friend." *yn* introduced, "Damon Salvatore."

Friend. It was what he was to her, the correct title to describe their relationship. But tonight, in front of this guy, it prodded something inside him. Unfurling inside him like a wasp injecting its barbed stinger into his veins.

"Salvatore... oh shit so you own this place?" Jake's eyes lit up in recognition.

"Home sweet home." Damon remarked, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice as he took a deep sip of his bourbon.

"It's dope. Sickest party location for sure." Jake complimented.

"Oi Masters!"

The group turned around to see another boy standing at the precipice of the home. "We're about to start another round, get your ass in here!"

"Beer pong." Jake explained to the group. "I'm the reigning champion." He boasted proudly. Damon rolled his eyes when Jake glanced down at *yn* for a reaction who giggled and patted his chest.

"I didn't realise we were in the presence of such a high performance athlete." He remarked earning a snort from Ric.

The liquor swishing around in Jake's stomach seemed to hinder his ability to pick up on Damon's sarcasm as he looked up and shot him another grin.

"Alright, it was nice meeting you Damon. See you in school Mr Saltzman."

Ric tilted his head in acknowledgement and Damon simply shot him a tight lipped smile.

"See you guys later." *yn* waved before bursting into a fit of giggles as Jake eagerly pulled her back inside.

Damon glanced down. His grip on his glass tightened. Jake's hand was entwined with hers.

Ric glanced between the disappearing couple and Damon.

"Careful buddy, you might break that glass."

"I hate high school jocks." Was all Damon responded with as he drained his drink and immediately reached for the bottle.

"What's his deal anyway?"

"Who? Jake Masters?" Alaric queried. He let out a scoff when Damon inclined his head.

"Uh I don't know, he's the captain of the waterpolo team. Not the greatest at history, thinks he's gods gift to women, the usual." Alaric shrugged.

Damon hummed in response. He swirled his drink in his hand absentmindedly as his eyes fixed on the doorway that *yn* and Jake had disappeared through.

"What time is Andie getting here again?" Ric asked him.

"Damon." Ric repeated after a few moments.

"What?"

Ric tried to hide his amused smirk as he studied his friend. "I said what time is Andie getting here again?"

"Oh uh-" Damon's eyes shifted back to the doorway. "11 or something." He spoke dismissively.

Almost as if they had a mind of his own, his legs pulled him up onto his feet. Unable to fight the pull to head inside anymore, he slammed his glass down. "I'm just going to go grab another drink."

Ric raised a brow and glanced at the nearly full bottle of bourbon placed between them. He smirked in amusement.

"You do that buddy."

"Oops sorry!"

Damon glared as another drunk teenager fumbled into him. He pressed the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back. His brow furrowed when the taste of bourbon didn't reach his tastebuds.

He glanced down and cursed under his breath when he saw it was empty. He tossed it to the ground before promptly plucking another bottle out of the hands of a girl passing him who looked like she was about to puke.

"No no, trust me you don't want this." He stared into her eyes, "you want to go outside and puke your guts out on the grass, not on my expensive leather couch."

He rolled his eyes as she nodded numbly and walked past him. He pressed his body against the wooden support beam, his eyes drifting over the unfamiliar faces.

"If you're looking for *yn*, I last saw her in the stoner den."

He glanced to his left to see Elena standing beside him.

"I wasn't. But thanks for the update." He answered as he pressed the new bottle to his lips.

Elena didn't need to know that he'd spent the last twenty minutes trying to find her and had now given up and decided to sulk in the corner.

"Whatever you say."

His eyes narrowed as he glared down at her. She met his gaze with an innocent smile. He resisted the urge to ask her what she meant by that, because a part of him knew exactly what she was hinting at - which had been exactly what Ric had been hinting at - and that was a conversation he wasn't exactly ready to face.

"Have fun sulking." She patted his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. He watched her go as he took another gulp. What had started out as a fun night was quickly becoming a chore.

He stiffened when his ears detected a laugh that he knew like the back of his hand. Sure enough, it wasn't long until his eyes fell on *yn*.

He clenched his jaw when he saw that she was following after Jake Masters. He was still holding her hand, and was now leading her towards the centre of the room where a dance floor had formed.

Jake turned to *yn* and leant down, whispering in her ear as he encircled his arms around her waist. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck as the two began to move to the heavy bass.

As Jake moved, a vein in his neck pulsed out. Damon felt the veins stir under his eyes. All he needed was to sink his teeth into that vein and he could rip his head clean-

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you it's rude to stare?"

Damon ripped his eyes away from the couple, turning his steely gaze to Caroline.

"What do you want blondie." He muttered as he turned his attention back to the dance floor.

"Nothing. Just here to remind you that you are in front of hundreds of people so now is not really the time to get your dracula on."

He rolled his eyes, "I'm fine."

"Really? Because to me it looks like you're about to go rip Jake Masters head off."

Damon's gums ached at he mention of his name.

"Don't you have other things to be worried about blondie?" He sneered.

"Not really."

"Not even your little wolf boy getting it on with a leggier version of you over there?"

Caroline followed his gaze to see Tyler and none other than slutty Sophie of all people grinding on each other in the middle of the room. Caroline ground her teeth and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Doesn't bother me." Her voice raised an octave.

"You sure about that? I think that bottle is suffocating." Caroline glanced down and huffed as she loosened the grip on the wine bottle.

"This isn't about me." Caroline hissed as she turned to face him.

"This is about you admitting that seeing Jake and *yn* together is driving you crazy."

"Why would it?"

"Uh gee Damon, I don't know let me think, maybe because you have feelings for her?"

Her words were like a slap in the face. It was the first time anyone had said it out loud. Had dared to voice what they had all been thinking. All of a sudden it felt very real. Very much a possibility that Damon did indeed have feelings for his friend. He felt like the room was closing in on him.

Damon shook his head and forced a chuckle out past his lips, "sorry blondie, but you don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" She raised her brow, "so that doesn't bother you in the slightest?"

He turned his head and his eyes found *yn*'s figure instantly. His jaw clenched and he pursed his lips.

She had turned around to press her back against Jake's. His hands were roaming her side, brushing the red fabric higher up her thighs. He was placing kisses along her neck and muttering into her ear which was making her giggle.

That single wasp inside him had now spawned into a hive, stinging him from the inside out. Right then and there, he could have ripped the heads off every single person in this room. Tear them limb from limb. Anything to get rid of this sick feeling in his stomach.

A feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, perhaps ever.

A feeling you most definitely did not have towards a friend.

"Oh is that Jake Masters with *yn*?" Elena had reappeared beside him.

"Good for her, he's so hot-"

Damon didn't hear anything else after that, because in that moment Jake had leant in and whispered into her ear once more.

"What do you say we go find somewhere quieter to talk?"

His pulse was ringing in his ears, Jake's smarmy voice slithering around in his head. His legs had moved before he had even decided to. Making a beeline for *yn*.

He had no idea what his plan was. All he knew was that if he didn't get her away from his guy, he was going to murder someone. Jealousy had never agreed with him. It made him even uglier than usual.

"I need to talk to you."

*yn* twisted around in Jake's arms, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Damon standing in front of her.

"I'm a little busy."

Damon glared at Jake behind her before his eyes flickered down to her.

"It's important."

"I'm sure it can wait." She shot back.

Jake glanced between them, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what was going on.

"Jake-" Damon began as he locked eyes with the teenager. "Why don't you go do us proud and win another beer pong championship." He cocked his head and grinned, "and don't come back."

Jake's eyes clouded over momentarily, before he blinked and his eyes focused on *yn*.

"Will do!" Jake grinned.

"Damon!" *yn* protested. It was futile as Jake's hands slipped from around her waist. They watched as he marched towards the kitchen with a determined pace.

"What the hell." She growled as she glared up at him. "I was having fun."

"Of course you were, who wouldn't be with the reigning beer pong champion of Mystic Falls." Damon drawled as he gripped her elbow and dragged her through the crowd.

"I wasn't planning on marrying the guy." She snapped back as he led her up the stairs. "He's hot, it's a party. You do the math."

He gritted his teeth at her answer as he guided her into his bedroom.

"You're drunk."

She huffed as she stormed into the centre of the room.

He shut the door. The noise from the party underneath them was immediately dampened. Now only a dull roar, background noise that occasionally seeped in through the floorboards.

"I don't want you making a decision you'll regret tomorrow."

She inhaled sharply before swivelling around to face him. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"That's not your decision to make."

"You're right. It's not." He nodded as he stalked towards her, "but I'm the one who's going to have to pick up the pieces if you get hurt."

She let out a bark of laughter. "Get hurt? I was dancing with him not running off to get eloped."

"Well we all know where it was heading."

Her eyes narrowed at his response.

"Last time I checked you're my friend, not my parent."

Friend. There it was again. That one little noun that was causing so much heartache. So much turmoil inside him.

*yn* knew she should leave it at that. But anger and liquor never mixed well inside her. And she was hurt and confused. All she had wanted to do was distract herself from him and her feelings, yet now it seemed like she couldn't escape him.

Now she felt like she was going crazy because if she didn't know any better, she could have sworn he was jealous.

"Don't you have anything better to do? Isn't your girlfriend supposed to be here?"

Damon didn't miss the way her lips almost curled into a sneer as they formed the word.

"She's working late."

His answer made her stomach drop. Of course they were still together. How stupid could she be to even let herself think for one moment that they might have broken up, that he might-

"Right." She nodded. "Well, I appreciate the whole friend intervention thing or whatever this is." She gestured to him as she took a few steps forward. "But I'm going back to the party."

She had made it all the way past him when she felt his hand curl around her forearm, rooting her in place.

"You seem to be really enjoying using the word 'friend' tonight."

Silence fell over the pair. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled shakily. She opened her eyes once more and stared at the closed door. She could feel Damon's eyes burning holes in the back of her head.

His hand was yet to leave her bare arm.

"Well that's what you are."

She remembered Caroline's words as she tried to control her nerves. She exhaled as she tried to calm her beating heart as she turned to face him.

"Right?"

She kept her gaze defiant and determined as they locked eyes. He searched her eyes, seemingly looking for something in particular.

"I don't know." He began as he took a step toward her.

His ring band was burning into her skin. Her heart hammered.

"Do friends get the urge to rip the heads off arrogant jocks who touch their other friends?"

*yn* swallowed as she held his gaze. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour. She could barely process what was happening.

"Do friends feel physically ill when they hear the word friend being used to describe their relationship?"

Another step forward. His piercing green eyes flickered down to her lips and then back to her eyes.

"Damon-"

She cut herself off as Damon's hand cradled the side of her face. His teeth captured his bottom lip as his eyes once again fell to her mouth. The pad of his thumb glided over her bottom lip.

"I don't think I want to be your friend anymore *yn*." He murmured, his voice causing goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck.

"In fact, I don't think I've hated the word as much as I do right now." He whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers.

The alcohol running through her veins was clouding her reasoning, not even giving her a chance to think about Andie or Jake, or what the implications of this in the morning would be.

But in that moment, she didn't care. All she could think about was the smell of his cologne invading her senses and the feeling of his fingers running along her hot skin. About how desperate she was to have his mouth on hers.

All it took was the slightest tilt of *yn*'s chin to connect their lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as he finally let go of her arm to bring his other hand up to her cheek, cupping her face in his hands.

Their lips moved in sync as she pressed herself against him, nearly letting out a moan at the feeling. Her hands threaded themselves through his hair as he moved one hand to ensnare her waist. His hand travelled down just as she-

"They're kissing!" The muffled voice on the other side of the door made them pull apart in surprise. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Caroline?" *yn* asked as Damon ran a hand over her lower back. Damon nodded.

"And Elena."

*yn* let out a breathy laugh as she turned back to look up at him.

"Moment ruined?" He asked, a rare smile spreading across his lips as he studied her.

"Kinda." She grinned back as she leant up to capture his lips in another kiss.

They pulled apart after a few moments, pressing their foreheads together as they caught their breaths.

"I have to say *yln*." Damon murmured, a smirk twisting up onto his lips.

"I love not being your friend."

I love this fic, it's been so long since I've just done a stand alone fic!!! As always, feedback is always appreciated. Please give it back here x

3K notes · View notes

norrizzandpia · 6 months

Text

Let Me Help (OP81)

Summary: She’s got a math test the next day and unfortunately, she can’t do math. However, her boyfriend can.

Warnings: PURE FLUFF 👹👹👹👹, me being uneducated abt the British schooling system (PLZ FORGIVE ME IF I GET ANYTHING WRONG I KNOW THERE ARE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THE AMERICAN AND BRITISH ACADEMIC SYSTEMS)

Note: i want a bf to tutor me math wtf bitch 😐

As she sat in the University of London’s library, staring at the problem on her laptop, Y/n was on the verge of tears.

She had been trying to study for four hours, but she was quickly realizing she had absolutely no idea what was going on in the class. No amount of step-by-step videos or lecture notes could help remedy the confusion she was suffering from. Her grade relied on this test and if she failed, she wasn’t too keen on retaking the course.

Nevertheless, she knew if she continued to sit and stare, her heart rate would accelerate even more and her watery eyes would turn into full on sobs. So, she excused herself, packing up her backpack and making a swift path toward the bathroom. Once settled behind the door, she let the tears fall and the anxiety consume her.

As if the world wanted to hurt her more, her crucial moment was ruined as her phone began to ring. Her sweet boyfriend’s face stared back at her as she contemplated answering the call or not. If she didn’t, he would most likely call her again, and if she did, he would be able to notice the way her voice wavered with self-doubt immediately.

For whatever reason, she answered the call. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to start the conversation, as she stared at the wall in front of her and tried to calm herself down.

“Baby! How’s studying going? I was thinking we could get food because I’m sure you haven’t taken a proper break yet.” His cheery voice met her ears and while that tone usually brought air back into her lungs, it pushed her over the edge this time.

Silence on the other end of the phone as she cried into the speaker and Oscar tried to figure out what had her so distraught.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He questioned, trying to comfort her sorrows as he ran around his apartment and grabbed his things, already on his way to help her.

She tried to speak, but the words never came out, sobs replacing any kind of sentence.

He continued to speak, knowing his voice was the only thing that could really help her as he sped to the library.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He urged, changing lanes and turning abruptly which granted a loud honking behind him from a frustrated driver.

She shook her head as she said, “It’s not, Osc. I don’t understand anything. I haven’t done anything these past few hours. I’m going to fail this test, and then I’m not going to pass this year, and then I’m going to fail out of college, and never get a job or provide for myself in anyway.”

He breathed out. Her way of jumping to conclusions and overthinking always gave her a problem, a major obstacle Oscar was so determined to help her through. Any inconvenience and she was worrying over what would happen next.

“Woah, woah, woah. Baby, slow down. None of that is going to happen. This is about your math test? You don’t understand the material?” He said softly.

“Yeah,” She whispered into the speaker.

He nodded, “Okay, well, how about this: I’ll come to the library and help you through the problems. You know math’s one of my strongest subjects. I can do this for you. Let me help you, baby.”

“But, Osc, aren’t you hungry? You just said you wanted to get food.” She said, trying to stop him from seeing her in this state.

“Baby, food can wait. We can get food after.” He smiled to himself as he pulled into the parking lot and got out.

“It’s going to take all night for me to understand this, Osc.” She stressed.

He shrugged, “Well, then I’ll get us food and we can eat while we study.”

She shook her head, “No, Oscar.”

He stopped in his steps, staring at the building as he sensed her overwhelming anxiety over his proposition.

“What’s wrong with me helping you, Y/n? That’s what I’m here for.” His eyebrows scrunched together, confusion and concentration over her next answer.

Her small voice bled through his phone and met his ears in a broken whisper, “I don’t want you to think I’m stupid.”

His heart squeezed in his chest, “Y/n, I do not and will never think you are stupid. Just because math was easy for me doesn’t mean it was easy for everyone else and that’s how it should be. Everybody struggles with math. There’s a reason why the majority of the world hates it. Trust me, baby, you are one of the smartest people I know.”

After a beat of silence and when he wasn’t certain if she would respond, Oscar tried again, “Let me help you, Y/n. I want to help you because I love you.”

Her cheeks blushed even in the intensity of the moment. The warmness she felt spread throughout her body moved her to say, “Okay, fine.”

“Good because I’m already here.”

—

Y/n’s eyes lit up, “Oh, so x is 2?!”

Nodding, Oscar rubbed his hand lightly up and down her back, “Exactly, my love. See? You’ve got this, smart girl.”

Her blushing had him chuckling, but her shyness didn’t stop him from kissing her temple.

“Okay, I think I understand this then.” She muttered, a big smile on her face as she looked at the time and realized it was still early enough that they could find a food place open.

“Still wanna get food?” She inquired, her body falling into his chest as they sat back on the wooden chairs. It was completely quiet and empty in the building, only a few students lingering. Because of their position in the very corner, their privacy was ensured, something they both were grateful for.

Oscar nodded, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair and nudge her face toward his. He kissed her softly, whispering sweet nothings when they broke apart. He was so proud of her and the fact that she had doubted herself as hard as she had didn’t sit right with him.

“You’re so incredibly smart, baby.” He said against her lips as he tilted his head to the other side, going in for another.

Their lips continued to tenderly meet, but every time he broke away, he would say something he loved about her.

“You never back down from a challenge. I love how determined you are.”

Kiss, Kiss

“Even when you fall, you always push yourself to get back up again. I love how resilient you are.”

Kiss, Kiss

“You’re so loving. I love the way you love me.”

Kiss, Kiss

“As we saw tonight, you’re so intelligent and knowledgeable. Even though you might not believe it yourself right now, you are so incredibly brilliant. I love how you never dumb yourself down for anyone. I love how confident you are to be yourself.”

He went in for another touch of their lips, but her giggling made it slightly impossible.

“Oscar, you’re so sappy.” She whispered, faces centimeters away from each other.

All he could do was smile down at her and whisper as his lips brushed against hers, “I just love you so much and I hate to see you doubt yourself. You’ve got this in the bag, Y/n. Sometimes teachers just don’t teach well and that isn’t your fault. Look at how fast it took you to learn it when someone actually sat down to introduce it to you! Two hours, baby! A whole unit in two hours! That’s impressive, baby, and you know it.”

She pulled back to lean against her chair, smile illuminating the room, “What would I do without you?”

He scoffed, “You would be perfectly fine. It’s me without you that you should be worried about.”

“Well, I’m not worried about it because I don’t plan on ever leaving.”

Kissing swiftly once more, his hand laid gently on the side of her neck, “Me neither.”

The two stayed like that for a few minutes until his stomach started grumbling and she was reminded of her earlier question.

“Food?”

He was already halfway out of the building, “Always.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #mclaren #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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I Wanna Hold the Hand Inside You —

728 words,, Velvette x reader

a/n — I got this fic out wayyy later than I wanted because I got so side tracked with that OC shit.

summary — Velvette teaches the reader how to dance.

warnings — cursing(???), I guess??, really nothing, just fluff fluff fluff

“Velvette, oh my god. Stop laughing!” You hiss from across the room

Velvette did, in fact, not even stop to take a breath. She simply kept snorting and giggling at you relentlessly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said through snickers, “It’s just that any old buffoon knows how to dance.”

“Well, I’m not any old buffoon,” you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“Aw, come on!” Velvette teased, crossing towards you, “No need to pout, darling. It’s cute.”

She didn’t hesitate to take your hands in hers and place them on each side of her hips.

“Here, let me show you,” She said, queuing up music on her phone, “You pick up a thing or two watching Valentino and Vox fuck around with this shit.”

“Velv, I don’t think you know the challenge you’re getting yourself into, right now,” You joke, but really you were completely serious.

“Bullshit,” she said, “I’ll be damned if I don’t turn you into a great dancer by the end of the night.”

You still look hesitant so she adds, “Don’t worry, i’ll tell you what to do.”

She places her hands on your shoulders and starts to move her hips slightly, leading your hands in the same direction. You take the hint and move your feet.

You’re awkward, though, clumsily swaying side to side with little to no rhythm. Your feet try to follow hers, but you end up stepping on her shoes.

She tries to hide her huff, those shoes took forever to finish and now they’re scuffed.

“No, sweetheart. Find the beat, “ She uses her hands on your chest to push you in the right direction. “Here, follow my feet. Right, then back, then left, then forward.”

“I’m no good at this, Velvette.”

“If you keep complaining, of course not,” she snips, glancing up at you with a quiet reassuring smile.

She wasn’t good at quiet or comfort so it wasn’t entirely convincing, however you trust in her and followed her steps.

Finally, Velvette sighed in relief. You were starting to get a hang of it. She reaches further up to comfortably rest her hands on your shoulders.

“Good, darling. Just like that,” she says.

Your eyes are focused on your feet for one last moment, chanting her instructions under your breath.

At last, you look up at her, falling into a secure rhythmic peace. The room is silent for one moment and you just stare at her.

She looked beautiful, to say the least. And the funny thing is, in any other situation, you would have told her that directly. But it felt wrong to break the peace in that moment; soft music coming from Velvette phone speaker, her gazing up at you adoringly.

She broke eye contact and moved closer, resting her head on your chest as you both danced.

After a long moment, and an entire song, she pulls away from you and moves one of her hands off your shoulders, taking yours.

She lifts it up above her, “Look, now you spin me,” she says, doing the motion.

She spins away from you and looks at you expectantly, “Now, pull me closer and i’ll spin back into you, and then you can—“

Her sentence is cut off with a small yelp as you yank her towards you, making her twirl back into your arms, and dipping her.

“Something like that?” You ask with a proud smile, gazing down at her.

For a moment, she still looks surprised by your quick motion, but then the smile returns, “Yes, yes, you flirt. Exactly like that.”

She leans up to kiss you, arms wrapping around your neck. You still clutch onto her waist, grinning into the kiss.

“Okay, okay, get off of me, you big idiot,” she says through a smile, “See? I told you I was right.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess i’m pretty good at dancing now, right?” you lean away from her and laugh.

“Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re no ballerina, that’s for damn sure,” She takes your hand and leads you away, “Alright, dance lesson over. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Whatever you say, teacher,” and you let her lead you to the couch.

She cozies up and rests her head on your chest as you sling an arm around her, pulling her closer. With that, you finally settle down for the night.

a/n — this fic was inspired by fade into you by mazzy star if it wasn’t incredibly obvious BTW!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #inbox open #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #velvette x you

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todoriin · 3 months

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lose something, babe | rin can't leave you if you do it first.

cw: toxic relationship, avoidant gn!reader, angst w comfort, ambiguous ending, unhealthy portrayals of love, read with caution.

The rain hits your windshield like bullets.

Even with your wipers cranked up to the most powerful option, you still can’t see too clearly admist the chaos, streetlights and passing cars becoming nothing but droplets of light in the dark. It’s exceptionally lonely in your car, and cold, too.

Bringing your sweater-covered hands to your mouth, you breathe warmth into them, reaching for your phone.

No messages from Rin, or any notifications, for that matter. You don’t know whether to be relieved or saddened that he didn’t care to reach out in this weather, not that it surprised you. The only thing Rin will have with him when he crawls over mountains and swims across seas is his pride, and it’s the one thing he vehemently defends, even if it’s against you.

He makes you feel so small in comparison to him, and in a way, you are. Your name isn’t on billboards, you don’t have millions of followers on social media, and you don’t have the ego of a thousand suns behind you. At any moment, he could leave, and you know that, so you'll do it first.

Even if it means getting trapped in a thunderstorm; your least favourite weather to be stuck outside in.

Your phone rings with the sounds of a call, phone speaker turned up to max volume to break through the thunderous storm.

“Isagi?” You greet.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He answers from the other end.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, you can talk.”

“Can I crash at yours for a little? I’m… a bit far from home and you’re closer to my location.”

“You’re outside? In this weather? Does Rin know?”

“Don’t tell him.”

“Why not?”

You’re silent, pondering whether to lie or not. However, your lack of an answer gave Isagi one regardless.

“It’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have pried. Come over, you shouldn’t be alone in a storm like this.”

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“No problem. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

It feels a little warmer when Isagi hangs up, his friendliness contrasting the ice that Rin likes to weaponise and throw against you.

The drive to his takes no longer than five minutes, and when you arrive, Isagi is already waiting for you, bundled in a warm hoodie and track pants.

Comfort is standing under the light and warmth of his front entrance, gratitude is being thankful to have a roof over your head.

“Come in,” the athlete ushers you inside.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” you murmur guiltily, quietly removing your shoes because to make sound was to exist, and you don’t want your presence to be a burden to him. You know that you're out of place here, and that his hospitality was one you don't deserve.

“No, please don’t apologise. It’s what friends do for each other.”

It’s peaceful at his place. There’s a 90s romance playing on his widescreen TV, an opened bag of chips on his coffee table paired with a no sugar fizzy drink. He ushers around the attached kitchen to pour you a cup of water.

You don’t recognise the show, and you won’t pretend like you do. To make conversation, you ask him what he’s watching, and whether or not it’s good since you’re on the lookout for good shows to watch. It’s only when Isagi’s done with his explanation that your phone buzzes with a message, the notification even reaching his ears.

“Is that Rin?” The dark-haired questions.

“Yeah.”

rin: The storm just reached here, are you safe?

y/n: yeah

Three bubbles appear, and then disappear, and then reappear. “Did something happen between you two?” Isagi asks, sincere and careful with his words.

“A small argument.”

“Are you sure? I don't know if it was... small.”

The evidence is plastered all over your face. Puffy eyes, dry tear marks, a red nose- all traces of the breakdown you had in the car that you tried to wipe away, but the most observant of people in the world see what others don’t want you to. Isagi’s good at that exactly.

"Small arguments don't cause people to drive so far from home."

You might cry again if he keeps looking at you so pitifully. You’re not miserable, you want to tell him, that you’re happy in your relationship with Rin even though sometimes his thorns pierce your most guarded of layers. There are more ups than downs with Rin, and you work through them together, you just need some time to breathe without him first because it’s easier to do so without him, that’s just how love and relationships should work, and when will this nightmare end?

“It was a small argument,” you pinch your nose bridge, eyes stinging with tears that threaten to fall.

Isagi hums in sympathy, not believing your words. That’s when your phone buzzes with another message.

rin: Where are you?

you: safe im turning notifications off

Isagi invites you to talk, that if you need the space, he’s offering it to you. What starts off as a small rant blows up into something you can’t control, only spaced out by sighs and noises of exasperation as you go over the fucked up things you both said to each other tonight.

By the time you’re done, there’s a series of loud bashes on Isagi’s door. Rin’s voice comes from the other side, fighting the downpour outside that still drums down, neither of them relenting.

“Don’t open it,” Isagi tells you, and you remain frozen in your spot. It’s hard to get up, hard to breathe, hard to think as he easily gets up and walks over to the entrance.

Is Rin angry at you for coming here? Has he come to drag you back home? To continue the argument from before you stormed out?

An infinity stretches between now and Isagi opening the door, but time comes crashing down when you hear the abrasiveness of Rin’s voice. He’s demanding for you, asking if Isagi did anything to harm you as if he isn’t the sole reason for your tears and sorrow tonight. As if he isn’t the one who hurt you the most, and here he is, making a ruckus in the home of a man who let you under his roof when you couldn’t go home.

“Rin, leave Isagi alone,” you call out, finally finding the courage to stand.

It’s silent, but the footsteps come barrelling towards you and Rin turns the corner with a frantic look in his eyes.

“Fuck, baby, are you okay?”

You were until he showed up. “I’m fine. How did you know I was here?”

“Your location, you’re always sharing it with me.”

“I- then what gave you the right to show up?” You almost choke on your anger, “I don’t want to see you, Rin.”

His grip on the wall tightens, as if the floor beneath him would give out from any second and he’d be sent tumbling into the abyss of emotions he can’t recognise and refuses to recognise. Despite it all, he can’t stop looking at you, as if tearing his eyes away would cause you to vanish, and he’d be tripping after traces.

“I needed to know if you were safe,” your boyfriend breathes shakily, pushing himself off the wall and towards you. You back away and only stop when your feet hit the couch, and Rin cages you in easily, large hands wrapping around your wrists like chains. “Come home, babe.”

“I want space, Rin.”

“I’ll give you space, I’ll give you everything you need, just- come home,” he begs, leaning in to rest his foreheads against yours with closed eyes.

It’s airy and desperate, the way he speaks. It is a siren’s song, and you shouldn’t listen, but oh, he is speaking so softly and kindly that it lures you in to a false sense of security. You almost close your eyes- almost, but in the moment it matters most, you push him away, allowing him to see your sorrowful state for the first time since he caused it.

Is love supposed to be as cruel as Itoshi Rin? Is it supposed to make you cry, fight, and thrash?

“Let go,” you try to tear your hands out of his, but he only retaliates by kissing your complaints away, swallowing them with his mouth so that your venom will settle in his stomach instead of his heart.

He’s insistent and everywhere. One of his legs are slotted between yours, his hands are warm on your cheeks, and the clash of his nose and teeth against yours feel so raw and human that it drains all of your fight out of you. How do you run away from this?

Persistently and blindly, he places kisses along your face, never straying too far from your lips.

No matter how much you want to pull away, you fight for what you love, not against it, so you sink into him instead and let Rin run his course, helpless to his onslaught of affection.

You try not to cower away too much.

“I’m sorry,” Rin whispers. “Don’t be mad anymore, I’m sorry for being a dick, come home, I'll leave, I just need to know that you're safe.”

He coaxes you into coming home with him, that you can come pick up your car tomorrow because he knows you hate driving in heavy rain. That he’ll pay for whatever parking fees you have accumulated. That you can talk- really talk it out, together at home.

The look Rin gives Isagi is less than friendly when you bid your farewells. You deem it compulsory to go out tomorrow to buy a gift for the poor soccer player, who has been an involuntary witness to the mess that is tonight.

There is concern in Isagi’s eyes when you turn around to wave goodbye.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #cw toxic relationship #todoriin

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nochukoo97 · 7 months

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boyfriend drabbles (pt.31)

pairing: idol!jungkook x gf!reader

summary: the one where you and jungkook have so much love to give

word count: 2.3k+ oopss

boyfriend drabbles masterlist!

You giggle to yourself softly as you watch Jungkook dance across the screen, a mischevious grin plastered on his face as he smiles into the camera.

“Alright, I’m tired already,” Jungkook approaches the camera, huffing as he sits back down on the chair. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you click the heart icon at the bottom of the screen, joining the rest of the fans in sending virtual colourful hearts to Jungkook.

“Shall we listen to some songs?” He asks after a period of silence, walking out of frame to fetch the TV remote as you smile to yourself hearing the muffled pattering of his feet from outside the room.

It doesn’t take Jungkook long to easily navigate the TV, clicking to change your Youtube account to his, with a less cultivated feed since he had insisted that yours was better.

“What should I play?” He peers back to the screen once more to question, attempting to read the answers that stream in the comments section of the live.

Whilst waiting for your boyfriend to choose a song, you place your phone propped up on your desk so that you can watch him and finish up your essay at the same time. Your attention is diverted back to the laptop sitting in front of you, glasses sitting low on your nose bridge as you resume typing.

“Love letters? Is that a song?” You hear Jungkook’s voice hum from the speaker of your phone, you quickly glance towards the screen to take a look at what he’s doing, before returning back to your essay.

“Oh? What’s this?” His voice squeaks slightly as he clicks onto the video, the soft music sounding throughout the apartment.

The music playing soothes your mind as you type on your laptop, Jungkook’s comments that come here and there providing a source of background noise for your concentration.

But your attention is quickly snapped away as a soft, sudden sniffle comes from the livestream. Only to be met with Jungkook’s glossy eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Your eyes widen slightly, despite knowing fully that Jungkook had always been an emotional person, it still tugged at your heartstrings to see him like this.

“This is so touching…” His voice is shaky as he speaks, the song slowly coming to an end as silence fills the air. You watch him gather himself, and it takes every muscle in your body to stop yourself from simply walking out the room to go and comfort Jungkook.

Jungkook manages to collect himself, sharing a few thoughts and expressing his endless gratitude and love for Army. The mood slowly lifts up as he begins to watch compilation videos of him and his members, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the TV.

Whilst watching Jungkook attempt to uplift the atmosphere with a lame joke he had made, your hand, in an inadvertent twist of fate, brushes against the tumbler sitting right beside your laptop, causing it to fall to the ground and crash.

A hasty, muttered curse escapes your lips as you quickly pick it up. The livestream for sure heard the noise, there was no way your metal tumbler crashing to the ground did not get picked up by the livestream's audio.

Jungkook on the other hand jolted suddenly upon hearing the noise, his eyes widened in alarm, as if instinctively soughting out the source of the noise.

Unconsciously, he calls out for you, his voice slipping into a more intimate and worrying tone, “Baby? Oh shit-” He stiffens on camera, as your heart stops for a moment hearing his slip up. But Jungkook quickly makes a fabricated excuse to mute the livestream, telling the fans that he’ll be back. He’ll deal with whatever rumours that come later.

You watch as the door to your shared bedroom creaks open ever so slightly, Jungkook squeezing his way in as he quickly shuts the door, pacing over to you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He immediately searches you for any injuries, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he takes your hand in his.

“Kook I’m fine, you’ve got to go back before they suspect anything,” You attempt to shoo him away, afraid that the already suspicious reaction and excuse he gave on the livestream may lead to something more serious.

But Jungkook has his priorities, more specifically ensuring that you’re okay. You have to assure him you’re fine, explaining how your bottle had dropped to the ground, and that you didn’t get hurt. As much as you want to check up on Jungkook, knowing he’s still feeling a little emotional about the touching gift made by his fans, you know better than to keep him longer in the room.

“Think I’m gonna wrap up the live,” He mumbles against your forehead, pressing a kiss there.

“Okay, okay, quick!” You’re much more anxious about all of this than the idol himself, which is ironic, considering he’d be the one having to deal with the rumours. Jungkook only chuckles softly at your ushering, listening to you and walking back out.

Once you see the screen turn to “JK ⭐️ has ended the live”, you hear your boyfriend running back into the bedroom, walking up to your seated figure in front of your desk.

“Hi baby,” Peering up at Jungkook, you still notice the faint glint in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings. “Feeling okay?” You hum, tracing a finger over the tatted purple heart on his hand.

“Don’t know,” He mumbles, leaning down to plop himself on your lap as you huff at the sudden weight. “Army’s are the best, can’t believe they made that for us,” Jungkook hums, his head now buried into your neck, back hunched a little as he tries to accommodate his size difference to cuddle into you.

“I know, they care about you so much,” You whisper, hands reaching up to card through his hair. “I’m losing oxygen soon though,” A laugh escapes your mouth, slightly wheezing as Jungkook’s body shakes above you, giggling as he gets off your lap.

“Want me to shower you? I’ll take care of you today,” You stand up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lean in to give him a quick peck.

Jungkook nods, bangs hovering over his eyebrows as he hums in response, walking with you into the bathroom.

Jungkook thinks he’s in heaven right now, with the way your fingers delicately massage his scalp, the warm water of the bathtub, the dimmed lights of the bathroom. Both of you huddled in the tub as you continued to press your fingers into his soapy scalp, making sure to get every inch soaped up.

“So good baby,” He lets out a soft moan, praising you as he leans his weight back onto your hands making you giggle, massaging at his temples. “Let me do the same for you,” With that, he shuffles around, making the water splash a little out of the tub as you frown at the floor covered with little droplets of water.

“Turn around,” He instructs you as he takes your pink shampoo bottle and drizzles the soap in a pattern on top of your head.

“Hey,” A whine emits from your mouth as Jungkook chuckles at his little creation, telling you that he had made a heart out of the soap, it makes you roll your eyes in faux irritation but in reality your heart swells.

“Your hair has gotten pretty long,” He whispers whilst spreading the shampoo around your hair, as you nod, mumbling something about growing it out.

The both of you are so lost in the moment, how domestic the moment was, the way that the both of you took turns to care for each other. You hoped that life with Jungkook would be like this till the end.

“Kook?” You sound out after a period of silence, as Jungkook hums.

“Will you still wash my hair for me when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“Hah- what?”

“I’m serious,” There’s a pout on your face, and although Jungkook can’t see it because you’re facing away from him, the sulk in your voice is evident enough for him to guess your expression.

“Depends, what if I’m old and scrawny too? Then I can’t wash you up either,” He pokes at you mischievously, as you gasp at his horrid answer.

“Don’t say that! I don’t want to imagine a wrinkly you, makes me sad,” You turn around for a moment, making eye contact with your boyfriend who’s staring amusingly at your reaction.

“But it means that I’ll spend forever with you,” He leans in to kiss you at the corner of your lip, “We can be old and wrinkly together,”

“Yeah, want to live with you forever,” You hum, a little dazed as you let him massage your scalp.

“You want tea? Or hot chocolate?” Jungkook calls out from the kitchen, the both of you now changed into pajamas and fresh out of the shower.

“Hot chocolate, with a gajillion marshmallows,” You tell him, opening the pantry cupboard to grab an unopened bag of marshmallows.

You watch as Jungkook meticulously scoops the chocolate powder into your mugs, a pink cat mug for you and a black one for him.

“You’re drinking the hot chocolate too?” You’re surprised as you watch Jungkook nod, scooping some of the powder into his mug.

Jungkook didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, contrary to you, which was why he often ordered bitter or less sweet drinks, as compared to your often filled-with-too-much-sugar and overpriced drinks.

“Kook I saw this trend on Tiktok, can we do it?” You lean closer to him, showing him the video playing on your screen. It’s a couple sitting on a picnic blanket painting and exchanging canvases every ten minutes. Jungkook watches intently, pausing his stirring of the hot chocolate as he instantly lights up, ushering you to quickly retrieve the items.

Lucky for the both of you, Jungkook’s hobby of painting left extra canvases and paints laying around the house, so it didn’t take long for you to easily find the items.

“Okay, I’ll set a timer for ten minutes and we’ll swap canvases once it rings,” You plop down on the living room floor as Jungkook nods, setting down the two mugs of hot chocolate filled to the brim with the marshmallows carefully on your coasters.

“This, this is not what I envisioned,” You sighed, the once white and clean canvas now splotched with your failed attempt at drawing a cute calico cat. Maybe you should have just stuck to a singular coloured cat, the different colours of paint smudging together to create a huge mess made it look demonic.

Jungkook peaks over at your canvas and instantly bursts into laughter and giggles, making you frown.

“Why are you laughing!” A permanent scowl plasters over your face as you swipe the wet paintbrush over his arm, making your boyfriend gasp at the brown paint on his arm.

“Baby, that looks nothing like a cat,” Jungkook’s almost wheezing at your artwork at this point, as you grumble and kick his shin in annoyance.

“You better help me fix it when we swap,” Another grumble, as Jungkook’s laughs die down and he pets your head in sympathy, although you still feel he’s probably finding your paint splodge hilarious deep down inside.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s turning into the asian Bob Ross as he swipes the paintbrush swiftly over the canvas, creating hues of pink, orange and yellow to form a vivid sunset. You’re almost certain this man can do anything he wants by how talented he was at everything.

“Oh- that shocked me,” A squeak leaves your boyfriend's mouth as he jolts when the alarm blares, a little smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth when you notice the little smudge he had created because of the alarm.

“Okay, swap time,” You instantly reach for the other canvas, a much better looking prospect for you as compared to whatever you’ve made on the current canvas.

“How am I gonna fix this,” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as he stares at the mess on your canvas, twisting and turning the painting in all different directions.

“It’s not even that bad Kook,” You pout again, whining, but you’re only saying that since you’ve got Jungkook’s beautiful sunset painting in your hands.

“Bold of you to say when this was meant to be a cute cat. I think I’m gonna see this is my nightmares,” He scoffs, a mischievous grin appearing as he watches you roll your eyes once again.

“This is so not lovey dovey, I’m getting upset just by putting the paint on your artwork,” You grumble, paintbrush making contact with the canvas to attempt to illustrate a sun, but it only comes out as a weird shaped yellow circle.

“Oh my gosh, my painting!” Jungkook’s exasperated, his eyes widening as he watches you attempt to make a circle out of the yellow paint, but the sun just seems to keep growing bigger and bigger from how many times you’ve painted over the wobbly outline.

“Baby this is too stressful,” You sigh, plopping back on the floor as you set the paintbrush back into the cup of water.

“It’s okay, maybe you’re more of an abstract artist,” He comforts you, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he pokes more fun at you.

“I literally hate you,” Another whine escapes your lips as you shuffle around, almost hitting over your mug of hot chocolate as Jungkook quickly holds onto it to prevent the drink from spilling.

“Not what you said last night,” He mutters under his breath, then lets out a small chuckle as if he didn’t just throw in a dirty innuendo.

Jungkook earns a smack to his shoulder from you, and as much as you fake your annoyance and irritation, it’s endearing to you to see him like this.

And in the end, you end up admiring Jungkook’s work as he finishes up the paintings for you, or shall you say saves it from turning into your next sleep paralysis monster, and then he insists on hanging it up in your bedroom.

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