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#haven't spoken to anyone today
barghest-land · 7 months
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wanted to write a long ass rant post but i'm just gonna say that i absolutely hate lonely evenings after work. idk, work doesn't really matter tbh. but one more second of me not speaking to people and i'll die this is a warning
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clown-demon · 5 months
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((I hate this state I'm in.. I'm too depressed to eat.. I'm too depressed to even drink anything.. It's 3pm and I haven't had a single bite of anything or even a sip of a drink. It's really bad atm...
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yazmarina · 19 days
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walk me through it
for the love circuit series
—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.
franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader
warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases
a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa
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Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.
Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.
You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.
This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.
But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.
He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.
"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.
Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"
You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."
"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."
"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.
"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.
You can smell his perfume from where you stand.
"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.
"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."
Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."
"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.
You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.
"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.
The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.
That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.
Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.
So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.
And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.
"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.
"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.
You gulp. Franco smiles.
"Anything is possible this weekend."
-
"You broke the internet last night."
You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.
It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.
Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.
"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."
You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.
But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.
"Hi."
"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.
You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.
"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.
"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.
"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.
"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."
The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.
"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.
"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.
"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.
I will talk to you later.
Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.
-
Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.
P11.
Almost there.
-
"Hi. Come in."
Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.
"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.
Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.
"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.
"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.
Always straight to the point.
Like this morning.
You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.
You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.
Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉
It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.
You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.
Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?
You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.
You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀
It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.
Easy.
"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.
"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.
The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.
You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.
You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.
"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.
Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.
"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.
"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.
You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.
"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.
Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.
"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.
"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.
"Is that your camera?"
You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.
"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.
"Knock yourself out," you say.
Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.
"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.
"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.
You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.
"Just...touch yourself."
You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.
"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."
You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.
The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.
"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.
"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."
Click.
"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"
You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.
"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.
Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.
You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.
Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.
Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.
Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.
It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.
Oh, well.
Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.
Franco. Franco. Franco.
He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.
Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.
"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.
"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.
Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.
He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.
Franco chuckles. "Very."
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gguk-n · 1 month
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Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations
Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)
Series Masterlist
Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.
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{Reader's POV}
12/07/2012
Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.
02/01/2013
OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.
I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.
My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.
So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.
After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.
Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.
18/12/2013
Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!
I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.
04/03/2014
Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.
Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.
We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.
After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.
17/05/2015
Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.
09/08/2015
This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.
[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]
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hayatoseyepatch · 2 months
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Description: Three words, eight letters, a phrase that is felt more than it is spoken. This is my take on how some of the Wind Breaker characters say "I love you" for the first time. Characters: Hajime Umemiya, Tasuku Tsubakino, Haruka Sakura, & Hayato Suo. Word Count: 2.6k Not proofread, oops. Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters (separate). Fluff. Some slight hurt/comfort if you squint.
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Author's Note: Fluff? Something other than smut? From me? Wow. We love character development. But this has been on my mind for AGES so I finally am getting it out. I haven't been feeling the greatest either so please enjoy some very self-indulgent fluff. (¯³¯)♡
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You and Umemiya had been together for a while. You both adored each other, tender kisses and lingering touches were commonplace in your relationship. You had met Kotoha, and the others at the group home and have been attached to his side for almost a year. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back from saying those three little words. Perhaps it was his past, he had lost those who he had nearest and dearest to his heart. Their end unraveled right before his very eyes. Umemiya had so much love to give, and so many people he loved to give it to.
But often, he found it next to impossible to let the words slip past his lips. Instead, he showed his love in different ways. Bringing Kotoha patrons and supplying her with crops from his garden for her restaurant. A warming smile and a promise that Bofurin’s big brother would keep his found family safe. Always the first to offer a listening ear or a shoulder when needed. But never those words. Three short words, one syllable each. He knew he could say them but something deep down was stopping him. An irrational fear that if he had, the one he said it to would go too.
That was before he met you. Umemiya hid his darkness well. A well-placed smile and a childish affect cleared the thought anyone could ever have that the feelings he buried so deep even could exist within him. One you found easily. The light you had brought into his world shone brighter than any darkness that could ever threaten to shroud him. The warmth that settled in his chest when you looked his way. His laughter more genuine since you had come into his life. He knew from the moment he had met you, the moment he had first lost himself in your eyes, that they were the eyes he wanted to get lost in every day for the rest of his life. So why, even after all this time could he not say he loved you?
You had always joked that you had a grey thumb, unable to grow anything and that you were fortunate enough to have his abilities for gardening. One of the things he loved most about you was the amount of effort you put into his interests. He was coming up to the rooftop, it was late summer and he was excited to see what was ready to harvest. He was surprised to hear your voice, looking around the corner he saw you watering the plants. Just as he had shown you how to. “You're looking beautiful today, growing nice and big and strong.” You sighed, feeling ridiculous, shaking your head. You jumped, nearly out of your skin hearing Umemiya’s giggles. “Sunflower what are you doing?” He said between peals of laughter
“I read online that talking to the plants could help them grow, I don’t know how well it’ll work.” You sigh shaking your head feeling a little silly. However, Umemiya’s heart was soaring, you had taken it upon yourself not only to express interest in something important to him but to go out of your way to care for it even when out of his presence. His eyes softened, cupping your cheek he leaned down to slot his lips against yours. The embrace was gentle, lips molding together as if they were only made to be with the other. He parted from you after a moment, breaths fanning against your lips as he spoke. “I love you, my sunflower.” He smiled against your mouth as he kissed you once more, knowing no matter what came next he would be by your side until he drew his last breath.
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Tsubaki had only felt comfortable in his own skin in recent years. Having spent so long conflicted with himself regarding his appearance. He was so fortunate that for those who didn’t support his choice in his appearance, he had so many who were right there by his side, rooting him on. But it wasn’t always like that. For longer than Tsubaki cares to remember he was all alone. Forced to walk his path in constant fear of ridicule. He was teaching himself to fight to protect himself from those who would try and hurt him on the sole premise of being true to himself. Those days felt like a lifetime ago. Because now he had Bofurin, because now he had you.
Tsubaki couldn’t forget the first time you had both met even if he tried. He was just starting to dress more feminine, his hair an awkward shoulder length. Still learning how to apply makeup. There were a few boys from his grade who were taunting him, calling him names, and throwing things in his direction. Normally he would have stood his ground, beating them to a pulp for what they were doing. But Tsubaki was tired, tired of having to defend himself, tired of having to be so strong just to live as he chose to. How he felt most beautiful. He wasn’t that strong by choice, he was strong because he had to be. Because Tsubaki had to be stronger than their ignorance. Tears welled up in his vision at their harsh words, about to get up and defend himself once more.
Before he could get to his feet, however, he heard a voice call out, capturing the attention of his assailants. Stood there was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, delicate features enhanced by the soft cosmetics that had adorned your face. He watched with wide-eyed fascination as you ran up, the closed fist of your manicured hand coming into contact with their leader’s jaw, sending him to the ground upon impact. Tsubaki couldn’t move, he watched, frozen as you gracefully fought the group that had been trying to bring him harm. Tsubaki was strong, and more than capable of handling them on his own, but in that moment he learned that he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to fight his battles alone anymore, because now he had you.
He remembered stumbling over his own name when you had asked for it, cheeks a dark shade of red when you smiled at him. He remembered the way your hand had felt in his grasp for the first time as you dragged him back to your house to get cleaned up. Humming as you wiped the dirt from his cheeks, in a very similar manner as you were doing right now. He lay in your bed, your thighs straddling his waist as you hummed, swiping the brush along his cheek, applying the peachy blush you said paired so well with his complexion. You paused in your humming meeting his eyes that gazed up into yours with adoration, giggling softly. “Welcome back, that was some daze you were in. What’s on your mind gorgeous?”
Tsubaki’s cheeks flushed deeper than the powder that painted his skin. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you sent him a smile, soft and full of tenderness. Tsubaki wasn’t sure he believed in love at first sight, but he knew from the moment he met you that he loved you, and over time that love had only grown. Reaching up a hand, thumb swiping your cheek as he returned your loving gaze. “Just thinking about how much I love you, that’s all beautiful.”
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Haruka wasn’t familiar with love. Often times he found it nearly impossible to express his feelings. Before coming here, even something as simple as kindness was a foreign concept to him. Being so often judged upon first glance he never got the opportunity to even try to build relationships. So after a while he had given up trying, That was before he came here. Before he was welcomed in with open arms. Before he found the only place he felt like he truly belonged. But you. You had opened up his world to so much more. You showed him what love could feel like, An emotion he never thought he could ever feel let alone have bestowed upon him.
You were much more open with your love, taking care of him when he got sick after a fight, making sure he was eating and taking care of himself. You had teased him relentlessly when you first met. Adoring the deep flush in his cheeks and the reactions you could pull so easily from him. Eventually, that teasing morphed into affection, which blossomed into love. You still had a habit of teasing him, but it was never ill-mannered always coupled with your beautiful laughter. And if he got to hear that beautiful sound bubbling past your lips, he would deal with the heat that graced his cheeks and the pounding in his chest.
You both had been together for quite some time, well past the point of the outbursts you had first been met with when openly showing your affection. Long past the point where he would feel the urge to run for the hills the second you called him one of the plethora of pet names you had bestowed upon him. But he still struggled to verbalize his feelings for you. He knew you were well aware of his feelings toward you. What he couldn’t express through words he showed through his actions. He was eternally grateful to your seemingly unending patience with him. Being well aware of his past you knew he would say it when he was ready. It wasn’t as if he had never said it before, but those times were when you were fast asleep next to him. His fingers carded through your hair as he gazed upon your relaxed features, whispering those three words in the silence of night. But as you lay here in his arms, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours he knew that he needed you to hear how he felt. Not just feel it. Leaning down he brushes his lips against your own, lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces, perfectly fit to one another.
His eyes are soft with fondness as you pull away from the kiss, head tilting to lean into the touch of your hand. His eyes locked with yours, lidded with adoration. His lips melting against yours, arms encircling your waist. He hums thoughtfully against your lips. His heart felt warm, pulling away he looked into your eyes, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, I sit and I think to myself sometimes ‘god I can never love you more than I do right now’ and you consistently test that theory by making me fall more in love with you every day.” His heart raced in his chest, never the best at expressing his emotions, but in this moment Sakura needed to tell you how he felt. Never one to back down, despite being able to hear his heart racing in his ears as he continued to speak.  “Your smile still makes my heart pound, your laugh still makes my head feel fuzzy, and your kisses still make me feel like I’m floating. I love you so much.”
He gives you a soft smile pulling you close once more to kiss your lips, hand now coming to rest at the back of your neck to keep you in place as his lips meld with yours once more. Before moving here Sakura could confidently say that he had never felt at home anywhere. He was alone, perfectly fine never planting roots, he had believed it would always be that way. What he didn’t realize was that home was more than where you returned to at the end of the day. It would be something he found in you. Because his home was right here, in your arms. His home was you.
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Suo hummed to himself, walking through the isles of the florist, perusing the flowers. He had made it a habit from your first date to always have fresh flowers for you, showcasing their beauty that in his eyes was rivaled only by your own. When he had presented you with the first bouquet, you had scrunched up your nose reporting to not understand the purpose of a gift that would eventually die. From that moment he decided he would always have fresh flowers to decorate your space. Showing you that their beauty may be temporary but the flora could hold deeper meaning.
He was fascinated by the symbolism of flowers. But he very specifically took delicate care in every single flower that was showcased in a bouquet he arranged for you. For a man like Suo, someone who never showed a crack in his armor, never showing his true feelings often relied on subtle ways to show his love. The first flower he had selected for the bouquet were violets, their heart-shaped petals reflecting their meaning of everlasting love and devotion. Historically a gift of violets was a declaration to always be true. These flowers were common amongst the arrangements he curated with their placement, a promise to offer you the same. The next flower to join the arrangement followed a similar sentiment. Representing strength and love was the gladiolus. It was once believed that the beauty of the gladiolus could pierce another’s heart with love, the same could be said for the way you had done to him. Their purple hue paired nicely with the violets, the color symbolizing the beauty in the love you shared. The flowers to follow would showcase similar significance. Baby’s breath for undying love, calla lilies for beauty, and pink camellias for longing.
Suo was always deliberate in each flower he chose for you, choosing to convey his emotion through the meaning behind each flower he placed delicately in the arrangement. Smiling to himself, satisfied with the selection he had chosen. Sitting at his table as he placed them in their wrapping, being sure to pluck one from the bunch, placing it in a vase so when it began to wilt he would know it was time to gift you a new arrangement. Once he was satisfied, he set off to your apartment, knocking on the door. His signature smile graced his handsome features as he took you in. “Hello there beautiful, I have something for you.”
You smiled at Suo, taking the flowers from his grasp, and replacing the old arrangement with his assistance. You were very aware of Suo’s knowledge of flora, he would often tell you the meanings they held while out together. So much so that you began to look into it yourself. Taking what you knew of the flowers now to assess the arrangement. Eyes soft as you turned to your boyfriend. Hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him down to your level, lips brushing against his. The both of you melted into the tender kiss, your other hand coming to cup his cheek as his found purchase on your waist. Pulling away, you pressed your forehead against his looking into the rich auburn of his visible eye. “I love you too, Haya.” Your words were met with his gentle laughter. Taking one of your hands in his own, his lips brushing against your knuckles. “I love you, more than words could ever express, my sweet baby.”
Suo smiled looking down at you, knowing each flower he had plucked from your bouquets had been dried and coated. Keeping a memento of how despite your initial feelings on the gift, even flowers that have died could still be enjoyed. Those flowers were placed in a special place, kept safe. One day he planned to have the dried flowers arranged into their own bouquet. One he would present you alongside a ring, a promise to love you until the very last one died, knowing these flowers never would.
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Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.
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two-white-butterflies · 3 months
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★ — it was all yellow | carlos sainz
Description: After finding Carlos in bed with an internet starlet, you decided to break up with him. 5 years later, you meet him again.
Pairing: actress/singer!reader/carlos sainz
Trope: Secret Baby Trope
Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.
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A/N: I got so many requests for this typa trope and I only got the idea now. Super sorry for the 6 month delay WAHHAHA.
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yn.ln: the vibe that we bring to the function. btw 💚 HOTDS2 is out!
liked by danielricciardo and 71,923 others
>comments
danielricciardo: Helaena Targaryen >>> - edited: Helaena Targaryen <<<
echibano82: MAN!! 😭
ynforever: the rise and fall of a midwest princess is my fav album of urs
formula.unoworld: sainz fumbled a baddie
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because.official: Carlos and Pinon 😘❤️ #MyHeart
liked by carlossainz55 and 6,293 others
>comments
foreveryoung78: Wake up Carlos the fatherhood allegations are strong today
solonglondon: U ever heard of a boy named Pablo Sainz? 😳
bestfriendsfw: miss Because...go and tell ur mans - landofanbase: HER NAME ALWAYS TAKES ME OUT 😭 WHY IS HER STAGE NAME "BECAUSE"
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WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GIRLFRIEND? BECAUSE...
Brezziana Aziza, whose stage name is Because has gained fame because of her relationship with Formula One Driver Carlos Sainz Jr. Previously known on social media as an influencer who vlogs about her daily life, netizens began to call her "Because" well because of her excessive use of that word.
Although she has stopped using that word since, the name has stuck. She is currently under fire for visiting a Shein Factory in China. For more details please click this link: Shein sent American influencers to China.
>comments
becauseunitedfanbase: she's so funny n quirky i get it why carlos loves her
breatheinlouder: if pablo does belong to sainz, brezziana broke a family up - corduroy8chan: the family broke because sainz allowed it to be broken, she's homewrecker because...? - becauseunitedfanbase: more like home renovator
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Just an Inchident (Charles L., Max V., Lando N., Carlos S.)
Carlos Sainz holy shit guys did you see twitter
Charles Leclerc Yeah man Is it real?
Lando Norris i did some research and this kid's 6-4 yrs old there's a chance mates
Carlos Sainz how am i even supposed to ask her? it was so awkward when it ended i totally regret doing that to her but im so happy with because now
Charles Leclerc There's a fat chance that the kid is yours man
Lando Norris ask her like a civilized man dude i saw a reel where someone asked her if pablos yours
Max Verstappen Who uses reels mate? 🤣 2 reacted 🤣
Lando Norris well she avoided the question silence means yes if you aren't the father she'd answer it
Carlos Sainz maybe she wants to torture me
Charles Leclerc She's a good person man I don't think that she'll do that Plus she's above using her son for leverage
Carlos Sainz and how do you know that Charles? we haven't spoken to her in years
Max Verstappen She grabs coffee with Victoria on Tuesdays I've actually known about Pablo for a while now
Carlos Sainz 👍🏻 2 reacted 🤣
Max Verstappen 👍🏻 .
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yn.ln: i want a velaryon burial #HOTDS2
liked by 93,192 others
>comments
danielricciardo: the camera quality sucks just letting you know - yn.ln: thanks! i have eyes btw
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yn.ln: A lot of you wanted to comment and ask questions about my son, and I never really posted about him because I'm not like those parents who use their kids on social media for likes and clout.
Five years ago, I gave birth to my first baby, Pablo L/N (09/12/18) and every day has been filled with laughter and warmth 🦋 he was not a secret, but I tried to keep his life private. Now, a lot of people feel like they have the right to know everything about him. What he looks like. Who his father is. I'm telling you that it doesn't matter.
You don't have the right to his face. You don't have the right to know about his family life because it doesn't concern you and it never will.
Thank you so much to my friends!! @danielricciardo @rileykeough #DakotaJohnson and #ChrisMartin
liked by 1,239,901 others
>comments
danielricciardo: ❤️
rileykeough: 🥺 i love you and p
victoriaverstappen: We love you! - yn.ln: thank you vic, playdate with luka and lio soon? - victoriaverstappen: Absolutely!
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected]
Good morning Dessie.
This is Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist, Daniel Kirkman, in light of the rumors between my client and Miss Y/N L/N we humbly request the truth about Pablo L/N's paternity in order to legally and publicly clear things up. Speaking as your old friend, these past few months have been stressful both physically and mentally. Even if there's a sliver of hope that the kid is Carlos' please update me.
Warm regards, Daniel Kirkman.
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected] (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)
Good afternoon Mr. Kirkman.
I can see that the years have hardly changed you, you still have horrible email etiquette. Because we are old friends, I spoke to Y/N. Truth is, the things that I'm going to share today will ruin your client's reputation if our emails are ever leaked. Remember the fallout of 2018? We both celebrated New Years in Y/N's Santa Monica House.
Actually, New Years was the day we found out that she was pregnant. Not a doubt in our hearts that the baby was Carlos'. We were about to tell him but the moment we landed in Ibiza, she saw Carlos in bed with Brezziana. (I refuse to call her Because!! BECAUSE it is confusing and preposterous.)
I think that hiding Pablo from his father wasn't right, but I don't blame her for doing it. As for the paternity test, Y/N agreed but the team will come back to you with the legalities and such. As a 'friend' I want to tell you that the best Carlos is ever going to have is him paying child support and seeing the child once or twice a month.
Y/N has a lot of lawyers, more than we do friends. And judging by Carlos' personality, I don't think that he'll fight for his son.
Warm Regards, Destiny Bumgarner
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected]
Good evening Destiny! What makes you think that Y/N's going to win the legalities? + I never expected you to reveal all of this via chat. You sure that I won't betray you?
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected] (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)
I got dealt with the winning hand now Dan.
I know you're smart enough not to doubt me. :)
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected]
All is fair in connections and clientele?
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email to [email protected] (Y/N L/N publicist) from [email protected] (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)
All is fair in life, Dan.
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oliviacooke: sorry for drinking your juice hun. 📸 pablo l/n
liked by 283,192 others
>comments
yn.ln: haha thanks for carrying his bags liv
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There are only two things. Truth and lies.
Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.
The past that you've tried to bury has slowly began to reveal itself. Maybe it was your fault, you aren't sure...
Carlos Sainz was a horrible man. He cheated on you. He didn't apologize. He admitted that another woman made him happier. Was there something special about her? A simple internet starlet with no proper claim to fame made him feel more alive.
"You've got to face him anyways." Dakota placed a glass of wine on the coffee table. "Pablo isn't his. He doesn't even look like him." you shook your head, unable to accept the inevitable truth.
"I've read all the posts on Twitter, they don't think that I have the right to push my son away from his father. Carlos is immature, I don't think that he's even capable of being a father." you scoff, taking a sip.
Haven't you given your son everything that he needed? An iPad, a big house, private education, and vacations in all the nice places.
"Two wrongs don't make a right." Destiny breathed.
"- from what Kirkman says, Carlos has changed. I don't encourage you to be romantic partners or even best friends, but please be civil for Pablo. Please let him have a civil relationship with his father." she added. "I hate it when you're right." you looked away.
You've seen his posts. You've seen his interviews.
There wasn't a bone in his body that screamed mischievousness anymore. He looked tame. Happier.
He achieved all of that without you, and maybe you could be that too.
You can be everything without him too.
"So you'll talk to him?" Dakota asked.
"I'll give it a try." I relented.
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Look at the stars.
Look how they shine for you.
The music played in the background as you sashayed your way into the VIP section of your friend's restaurant. Destiny was an angel enough to close shop and ensure that your privacy was protected especially in these vulnerable moments.
A sigh escapes your mouth, hearing that song in the background. As much as you adored Chris Martin, this song was getting in your feels.
You take a sharp turn, halting once you see his figure.
The very same man that shattered your world in Ibiza. The very same man that looked you in the eyes while he admitted that someone else made him much much happier than you, his fiancee.
And it was called Yellow.
"Thank you so much for being here, Y/N." your name sounded soft on his lips. Behind his brown eyes, there was sorrow - not to be confused with regret because he looked better than he ever was. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" you chuckled.
While nothing about you has changed.
Carlos has changed drastically.
"Destiny told me about the emails. Your team wanted a paternity test, right? You don't need it, Pablo is yours." you decided to be straightforward, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth.
You could feel that bitterness on your throat, like tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, like you just swallowed a pill and forgot to drank water afterwards.
"Uhh - I found out on New Years day, and I wanted to tell you in Ibiza." you didn't bother to continue the story. He knows what you mean.
For you I'd bleed myself dry.
"I'm sorry, really sorry for not being a man. I know that we were about to get married, and I got scared. I was 24 years old, everyone was telling me that I had another life ahead of me. I was young. I wanted to ruin my life. I-I shouldn't have brought you with me." he apologized, trying to find the words that could articulate his feelings.
This was all that you needed from him.
An apology.
"When Destiny found out, she grabbed me by the ear. Told me that I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve you. I believe her, and I want to do everything to make it up to you and Pablo." he promised, but there were still words unsaid - the turn of his brows telling you that he wasn't willing to return back to normal.
That he still loves Because more than he's ever loved you.
"Do you love her?" you smiled bitterly. Your smile.
Look how they shine for you.
"I betrayed both of you that night. She didn't know that we were dating. She didn't know who I was. I apologized to her and she forgave me, but I realized a few years after that I should've apologized to you too." he admitted. "- I love her, really."
You knew that he wasn't lying.
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destinybumgarner: this is the PINK PONY CLUB
liked by 712 others
>comments
yn.ln: WAHAHAH IM JUST HAVING FUN
danielkirkman: crowns c / o pablo the prince
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part two
A/N What driver or actor should we pair reader with? 😭 comment to get tagged
897 notes · View notes
everythingne · 10 months
Text
christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]
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Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.
warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys
verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend
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You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.
"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.
"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.
"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.
"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.
"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.
"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.
"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.
"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"
"[And how come Danny knows?]"
"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"
"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"
"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"
"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.
"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.
"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."
"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"
"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.
"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.
"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"
"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.
"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.
"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.
"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.
"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."
You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.
--
You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.
"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.
"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."
"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.
"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"
"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."
"Because you're dating?"
"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"
"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.
"I know!" You huff.
Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,
"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."
Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."
Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.
"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."
"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.
"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."
Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.
"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.
And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"
"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."
"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."
"We're lucky we were only kissing."
"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.
"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."
"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--
"What?!"
"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."
"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.
"Carlos and Danny know." You say.
"Mhm."
"And... Carlos is your best friend--"
"--Arguably--"
"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."
"Uh-huh."
"...What if we ask them for help?"
"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.
"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.
"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."
"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."
"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."
"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."
--
"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.
"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"
"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."
"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."
"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.
"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."
You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."
"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.
"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"
"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.
"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.
"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.
"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."
"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.
"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."
"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."
"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.
"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."
"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.
"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"
The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.
And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.
-
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y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴
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liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..
y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3
joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT
user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??
maxverstappen: i still don't know who
charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film
charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴
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liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...
charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.
user2: get me someone who will do this for me.
danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.
⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes
⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.
⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse
⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no
⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do
⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???
⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??
user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?
ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward
⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.
⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.
⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward
⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!
charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴
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charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.
arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.
y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.
⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.
maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?
⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow
⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh
landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.
⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.
ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴
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y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently
charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature
danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL
⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles
⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(
maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?
⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!
charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now
⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy
-
And by god, it starts working.
You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.
"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."
"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.
"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.
"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.
"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."
As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.
"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"
"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.
"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.
"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.
"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.
"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.
"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,
"Be more discreet, maybe?"
And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.
Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.
-
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and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.
Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.
taglist. thank you!
@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash
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vivwritesfics · 11 months
Text
Keep On Rolling - MV1
Chapter Eight
Summary: Lando's best friend having feelings for anyone on the grid? Impossible, right? She worked with them, sharing her friendship with the grid with the world via the FormulaY/N youtube channel.
After film a video including... spicy water (alcohol), everything changes between her and a certain world champion. Good thing she hasn't had a crush on him since his F1 debut, right?
Right?
1.8K words
Series Masterlist
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It was the final race before summer break, Spa. It had been a full two months since she'd last spoken to Max. A few days before she'd attempted to text him, but to no avail. Left on read every time.
Y/N couldn't begin to describe how much it hurt. Worst of all, she couldn't tell anybody about it. She couldn't tell Lando, not since he'd disappeared out of her hotel room at Silverstone.
Ever since her Formula One youtube career had begun, Y/N hadn't felt alone. Not until now. She'd never felt this alone in her life. This was the first time in over ten years, that Lando hadn't been there by her side.
This was maybe the first time she didn't have several videos planned for the race weekend. Well, she did, but those videos involved Lando, and they weren't exactly the best of friends at the minute.
Y/N didn't know if she could walk around the paddock without Lando backing her every step of the way. Sure she was friends with all of the drivers. But Lando was her best friend; Y/N didn't know who he was without him.
There was only one thing Y/N felt like she could do without Lando there. She called up Charles.
It had become somewhat tradition for Y/N and Charles to go to a café every time they did something just the two of them. Charles met her down in the lobby of her hotel. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she approached and they left the hotel together.
"What's up today?" Asked the Monegasque.
Y/N sucked in a deep breath as they walked through the streets of Belgium, searching for a café. "Everything," she answered.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Not with Charles. Not when he was so close to one of the causes of her problems. But she no longer had Lando to talk to, so she turned to Charles.
When they found a café, they took a seat in a cushioned booth in the darkest corner of the building. A waitress came over and took their orders. As soon as the waitress was gone, Charles turned to Y/N. "That's it, talk."
So, Y/N talked. She told Charles everything. About her feelings for Max, about how he suddenly disappeared. She told him about her sort-of fight with Lando and how things were weird between them. She told him how lonely she felt without him.
That was the thing. As much as Max was affecting Y/N, Lando was the biggest thing upsetting Y/N. She missed him so, so much. She hadn't gone a day without talking to him since she was eleven years old.
"Wow," Charles said as soon as Y/N was done speaking. "That was..."
A lot, Y/N knew. She looked up at him, waiting, hoping, praying he'd continue talking. And Charles did. "Well, I don't know what is happening with Max, but you need to just talk to Lando. He won't be able to stop himself from telling you eventually."
It was true, Lando was terrible at keeping secrets. It wasn't on purpose; he didn't do it with malicious intent. Lando was never one of those people that would be red faced, fists clenched not to spill the beans. No, Lando was one of those people who would accidentally let things slip and feel bad about it later.
Like on Y/N's thirteenth birthday. Her parents had planned out a surprise party for her and had invited all of her friends, Lando included. But Lando couldn't make it, not with karting. As he and Y/N walked home from school, he began apologising for not being able to attend a party Y/N didn't know about.
Surprise ruined.
Charles cleared his throat. "You haven't uploaded a new video in forever," he said, stirring a cube of sugar into his coffee.
"I know," Y/N said through a sigh. "I'm taking my summer break early."
Every summer break Y/N toured around with the drivers she was closest with, vlogging their adventures. This year, Daniel had invited her to Texas, and then she and Lando were off to a villa in Temerife with Carlos and his girlfriend. To finish the summer break up Y/N was joining Charles on his yacht.
"You need to sort things out with Lando before your holiday, you know?"
"Yes, Charles, I know," muttered Y/N as she sipped her coffee. "What do I do about Max?"
Charles really didn't know. He knew Max, they'd grown up together. Max's relationships were always a topic they didn't breech. He knew how Y/N felt about Max, the slight crush she admitted to having months ago.
"All you can do is wait," Charles answered somewhat solemnly.
Y/N let out a huff through her nose. She hadn't really touched the Internet since Lando had stormed off, choosing instead to stay away. She didn't know that twitter was going crazy with her lack of videos.
But it wasn't just a lack of videos. It was a lack of any kind of content. Videos, tweets, Instagram posts. You name it and Y/N wasn't doing it. "Better let the masses know I'm alive," she mumbled and snapped a picture of their coffees.
formulay/n
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Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 55,683 others
formulay/n: therapy sesh ☕️☕️
Going to the cafe this time didn't have such dire consequences. There were a few comments about her and Charles being a thing, but not enough that Y/N had to acknowledge them. Most of the comments just so happened to be about her uploads, or lack there of.
Y/N and Charles stayed in the cafe only a little while longer, just chatting. If she and Lando couldn't make up, he'd invited her to Monaco or wherever he ended up over summer break.
Quadrant wasn't something Y/N had ever really been involved in. Sure, she'd been in a few videos here and there as Landos special guest, and she'd consider Max a great friend, but Quadrant was a different.
She didn't game, didn't kart, and was too busy with her own content. The last video she'd been in was when she and all the other YouTubers had done Mario Kart in real life (she was team Luigi).
The extent of hers and Max's (Fewtrell's) conversations were sending each other memes via Instagram. They really actually texted each other, let alone talk.
So, when Max (Fewtrell's) face appeared on her screen as she walked back to the hotel, Y/N was shocked, to say the least. She slid her finger across the bottom of her screen and pressed the phone to her ear.
"Ew, what do you want?" She said into the phone. Because, for some reason, this was the kind of relationship they had and it was how British people answered the phone.
"Ew, I want to invite you along for the next Quadrant video."
"Ew, what are you doing in the video?"
"That's for us to know," Max answered, finally dropping the 'ew's. "But, you haven't been in a Quadrant video in fucking ages and people love you."
Y/N thought about it. She loved being in Quadrant videos, loved the fun atmosphere they created. She loved the fun things they did together for their videos. Through Quadrant, Y/N had met some of the youtubers she'd idolised as she grew up. Her favourite Quadrant moment was when she'd met the Side Men. That really was a special day.
"I'll talk to Lando and then I'll get back to you," she answered him finally. They said their goodbyes and hung up and Y/N stepped into her hotel.
There, in the lobby, was the man she wanted. The man who was ignoring her. Max (Verstappen) waited by the elevators. Y/N wasn't quite sure what to do. She hung back until the elevator doors opened and Max walked in.
He turned around then, and saw Y/N walk towards him. His expression was blank as she walked into the elevator. After months, this was going to be her best chance to speak to him.
But Max wasn't ready to speak to her.
Just before the elevator doors slid shut, he strode out, instead taking the stairs.
"Max, wait!" Called Y/N as she went to chase after him. But the elevator doors had already closed and she was moving, the elevator taking her up to the fifth floor.
Y/N's fist slammed into the mirror. "Fuck!" She shouted in the still silence of the elevator.
The doors opened and Y/N stepped out. She couldn't think about Max right now, not when she had Lando to worry about. Grabbing her phone, she dialled his number and pressed it to her ear.
"Are you still mad at me?" Lando asked in way of hello.
"Which room are you in?"
Lando gave her the room number and Y/N hung up. She didn't bother to get back into the elevator and took the stairs instead, taking them two at a time. Lando's hotel room was a whole floor above her own. She marched down the corridor, arms swinging, her stride full of purpose.
When she was at his door, Y/N knocked, loud and fast. Lando pulled open in door in a matter of seconds, letting her in.
Y/N sat on his bed. "We need to talk," she said, dropping her cold exterior. "For the last few month I've been keeping something from you," she confessed.
Sitting on the bed beside her, Lando stared, waiting for her to continue.
"We've been best friends since your karting days. Because of that I've made other friends, too. Like Carlos and Danny and Charles. And... Max. This year, I've gotten really close to Max in particular. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that I've got a little bit of a crush on Max Verstappen. Which now feels like shit because Max has been icing me out for the few months"
"Oh."
Yes, that was all Lando said. Yes, it pissed Y/N off. "Oh, come on Lan. That's all you have to say?"
But Lando, a man who is usually rather tan, had gone pale. His best friend had a crush and he'd told that crush to leave her alone.
"What do we do about it?" Asked Lando.
"First, you tell me why you were acting so weird in Silverstone. And then you tell me what the next Quadrant video is going to be. And then we do something about it."
Taglist (Open): @sticksdoesart @eviethetheatrefreak @eugene-emt-roe @glai1023-blog @mqcherie @itsjustkhaos @chonkybonky @arian-directioner @lazybot @lpab @princessria127 @fangirl125reader @honethatty12 @larastark3107 @urfavouritef1girly @cassiopeiia24 @callsign-scully @lexiecamposv @dl-yum @savagecelery @laneyspaulding19 @formulas-bitch @teenwolf01 @gayfrog29 @fictionalcomforts @avg-golden-retriever @pxppeypianotme @ruleroftheuniverse @ferrarisbitch @ashy-kit @dark-night-sky-99 @sadg3
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haveateadude · 3 months
Text
bleak horizons iii.
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summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ opening up it's not easy, isn't it?
warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm mention, and disordered eating (not explicitly mentioned but you can clearly see it's there)
author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ helloooo welcome to part 3!!!!!! i think this might be the last part (if u have an idea on how this can continue feel free to tell me. u can send a request or just leave the idea in the comments). also just saying, this stuff is based on MY issues and experiences with mental health, so this might not be truthful to everyone. my insta is @/starsfinder_ if anyone wants to vent or just talk :))
remember you're not alone if you're going through a shitty moment, trust me!! ik everyone says to ask for help, and even if that's soo fucking true i know some people are not listened (even if that's literally a fucking RIGHT). so, as i said, you can dm me <33 take care of yourselves pleaseee. can't stress enough how much i want y'all to know you're not alone. hi. hello. i care!!!!!!!! and i'm here!!!!!! so please listen to me when i say everything's going to be alright :)) i love youuuuuu
also, sorry for any mistakes. i'm sooo tired rn lmao
pt1 — pt2 — pt3
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I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour
I'm trying my best, don't know what's in store
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The next week, I stepped out of therapy crying. I got into the car, slamming the door.
“Hey,” Ellie says softly, looking at me with her hands resting on the wheel, her gaze full of worry. “You okay?”
“Drive.”
“But—”
“Just drive.”
“Okay.”
Ellie starts driving. I wipe my tears, feeling overwhelmed. My mother had called yesterday and made me feel like shit. I wasn't doing my best at school. Ellie and I hadn't gone out since Christmas. So basically, everything was shit. I've also had urges to relapse, and they're just not going away.
I cry. Ellie drives. This is okay. It's okay. Except that it's not, and I haven't told my therapist anything about myself yet. My mother hasn't spoken to me in weeks, and my father sent a cat video on WhatsApp this morning. And Ellie’s knuckles are turning white from how hard she’s gripping the wheel, which makes my heart ache because I know she cares. It makes me want to tell her everything, but the words are stuck in my throat, and I can't seem to get them out.
We arrive at the apartment a couple of minutes later. Ellie doesn’t immediately open the doors, and I've calmed down enough to answer when she asks, “Baby? Are you feeling okay?”
I nod, looking away. The people that I see walking around look sad.
“I’m fine.”
“It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says. I stay quiet, doubting it. Ellie nudges me with her elbow, looking for an answer. “Hey.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”
Ellie pats me on the thigh before getting out of the car. I get out, too. I don't bother eating dinner that night; I just go straight to bed and fall asleep.
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The next few days felt monotonous. I've fallen back into my sadness, the type that isn't bitter but sweet. It doesn't make me want to relapse. It makes me want to stay in bed more hours than I'd like, takes my appetite away, and leaves me feeling nothing but numbness.
I wake up, go to work, study, attend uni, come home, and sleep. The cycle repeats and repeats, and I'm so, so very tired.
Today, I took the day off. I knew I was too tired to do anything, so I planned to rot in bed. Ellie knocks on the door, but I don't answer. I hear the door creak open and the light from the living room creeping in.
"Hey," Ellie says, her voice coming from behind me. "Mind if I lay next to you?"
"It's fine," I say with a hoarse voice. I feel the bed sink at my side, and then Ellie is behind me, wrapping her arm around my torso and nuzzling her face into my neck, leaving a kiss right there. I feel cozy and comfortable. I don't know if this will last. I hope it does because it's a feeling I've never experienced before—someone comforting me? That has never happened.
"Do you want to talk about what's going on?" she asks. I stay quiet. "I care about you. I'm worried."
I do want to talk about it, but at the same time, I don't.
"I'm fine."
"You always say that… You haven't gotten out of bed since you came from work, and the frozen lasagna you were going to make for yourself last weekend has been in the fridge since then." She stays quiet for a second, her fingertips caressing my arm. "You're not doing fine, baby."
Millions of thoughts go through my head. Thoughts I don't say. I don't want her to leave; I don't want her to see how I feel.
"I'm trying, though." It's easy to say since Ellie isn't looking at my face directly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I blink them away; I blink, blink, and blink again. Fast.
Ellie stays quiet, her breath tickling my neck. She kisses the back of my head again, her hand holding mine. I hold it to my chest. "I know. But you don't have to be alone in this."
That hits me like a truck. I wasn't expecting to be held by her, let alone her saying I don't have to be alone. A tear falls from my eye, landing on the pillow. I sniff, and Ellie holds me tighter, not saying anything. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with her free hand and kisses my temple.
"I'm sorry," I say, in a moment of pathetic weakness. She hugs me even closer.
"Hey, no. Don't apologize. C'mon, turn around."
I let go of her hand, turning around. Her left hand cups my face and she kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and then she kisses the tears that fall on my cheeks. When she pulls away, she gives me a small smile, "You're going to be okay."
She doesn't want you. She's your friend; she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think, she'll leave.
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I wake up on Ellie's chest, it feels good to be comforted, I've found. Her phone is on the nightstand, so I just reach it and look at the time. It's eight o'clock. I've fallen asleep for two hours. I try to make myself more comfortable on her chest, attempting not to wake her, but my movements fail and she stirs.
"Hey," she says, her voice still laced with sleep. "What time is it?"
"It's still night," I say, closing my eyes. "We slept for two hours.'
"Feeling better?" I feel comfortable enough to shake my head. "Do you want to talk about it? I told you, I'm worried. And don't bullshit me with the whole 'I'm fine' shit, yeah?"
I stay quiet as her thumb caresses my back, "Did I tell you why I'm going to therapy?" Ellie shakes her head. "Well—back home I had some… issues. Mental health stuff related. I kept going back to depressive episodes. And one day I just asked for help from my mom, because I—I just couldn't stop self harming."
"Baby," Ellie says, hugging me tighter and kissing the top of my head. "What happened? Did your mother react well?"
"Yeah. Surprisingly. I got help. Got better. Sometimes it comes back, and I still get urges sometimes, but I can control it. It isn't as bad as it was before. But lately, it's just—yeah."
"You don't do that anymore, do you?" She asks, worried.
"No," I shake my head. "Not anymore."
"And what about the urges, do you still get them?" I nod, slowly. Ellie plays with my hair. "And therapy? Is it helping?"
"I haven't told her anything, yet. I—I don't know, I can't talk about it."
"What if I go to the next session? If you're okay with that, of course. If you still don't feel comfortable we can look for another therapist or another way to get you help."
I hide my face in her chest when she says the last word. I don't know why I've been refusing to get help. I don't know why I don't like that word. I sigh as Ellie stops playing with my hair and begins rubbing my back.
"I think—I think I would like it if you go with me."
"Okay. Okay, then. I'll go." The room falls to silence again for a few seconds. I feel ashamed for telling her. "I'm sorry you have to go through this… I wish I could do more."
"You're doing more than enough," I assure her. It's my time to hug her tighter. "You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this."
"Yeah?" She seems surprised. "I'm glad you talked to me. I'm here for you if you need anything—I mean it. You just have to tell me, I will listen… You could've told me sooner."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, don't apologize. I’m just saying, I'm here for you. I've been there for you, always. And… is there something I can do to help?"
"Just be there," I say. "That's enough."
"Mhm, I'll stay."
I think she wants you, a little voice in my head says. I think she loves you, and I don't think she'll ever leave.
Maybe I'll be okay, after all.
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Secrets That Whisper & Shout
Pairing: Moonknight trio (Steven mainly) x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: idk brief mentions of violence
Genre: fluff & minor angst
Summary: you are extremely intrigued by your neighbor and the voices you can sometimes hear in his head because of course your neighbor seems extra susceptible to your powers
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***
It's an interesting way to live life, being able to see into people's minds. To alter their memories, control their actions, hear their deepest inner thoughts even if you're not trying to sometimes. It can be weird but you just try your best to live your life normally. Right now the biggest hindrance to your delicate balance of normal is your neighbor. He lives across the hall for you and unfortunately, for some reason, you keep finding yourself inside his mind. It happens when you let your mental guard down for a little too long. You've always compared people's minds to houses, or offices full of filing cabinets, your powers give you a key basically but it seems like your dorky neighbor's mental door is never closed let alone locked.
The weirder part is what you hear when you do find yourself in his mind. For most people, the voice in their head sounds like them- and while you've never really spoken to your neighbor, you know for a fact there's no way he's simultaneously a nervous Brit, a cocky American, and a grumpy Spanish speaker. There are three voices in his head as opposed to one, they speak to each other and seem entirely independent of one another. You haven't intentionally done any snooping in his mind but you can imagine his mental filing cabinets are entirely different than any you've been in. It's not really your business though so you never look into it. No matter how curious you are about how and why he has three voices in his head. 
You know very little about your neighbor. From accidentally listening to his mental debates you think his name is Steven. The other voices have names too but you're unclear who is who because you've never stuck around long enough to discern that. He's not very social and only leaves his apartment for work or errands. He hardly ever takes phone calls and he never really calls anyone- except, around the time you moved in he used to call his mom pretty often but you think she never answered and eventually, those calls stopped. The strangest detail you've realized is sometimes he'll sneak out of his apartment, through the window and you have no idea where he goes or what he does but he's always back within a week. You don't mean to keep tabs on him, sometimes you cast your magic out to scan for threats and you'll notice the lack of presence in the apartment across the hall.
He's a curious case, your neighbor across the hall, and today you've decided you're going to bite the bullet and speak to him. Your curiosity about him is the main reason and you hope that being able to assign personhood to the voices you hear will quell it even a bit. You cross the hall and knock on his door confidently before you can convince yourself not to on one Saturday afternoon when you know he's home. You checked first. There's some shuffling on the other side of the door and eventually, it opens a bit hesitantly but it opens.
"Hi! My name is y/n. I live across the hall from you." You say, your chosen tone is friendly but soft.
"I'm- Steven. Can I help you?" He asks sizing you up.
"I hope so! I was baking cookies and even though I went to the store before I started I guess I didn't make a complete list of things I needed because it turns out I actually don't have enough sugar so I was just wondering if you had any I could borrow by chance?" You ask. You are baking, but you also definitely have enough sugar, it just seemed like the simplest way to initiate conversation. A bit cliche but it's a classic for a reason.
"You want to borrow sugar?"
"Yes. A cup if you have it." You hold up your measuring cup with a smile. Steven pauses for a moment before he answers.
"Sure. I've got some. Come on in I'll pour some for you." He says walking into his apartment. You follow him in glancing around. The studio style flat is full of books littered everywhere, it's the first thing you notice when you walk in. Steven takes the measuring cup from you and quickly grabs his container of sugar to pour some.
"Thanks so much! I'll bring by some cookies to repay you!" You tell him.
"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate the offer but I am vegan and I'm sure you don't intend to bake vegan-friendly cookies so-" He trails off with a shrug. You frown but make a note of the information. He's vegan. "I've never seen you before." He says after a moment while he puts up his bag of sugar.
"That's probably because you don't leave much besides for work. I've lived across you for over a year." You muse.
"Hey! I- I leave!" He turns to look at you.
"To do your laundry at the witching hour when you're the least likely to run into people?" You smirk a bit at him.
"No." He huffs.
"Thanks for the sugar, Steven. Hope to see you around more." You toss over your shoulder as you walk back into your apartment.
You do make a handful of vegan cookies for your neighbor, even though it wasn't your plan, after checking to find that it really is just a couple of minor changes, vegetable oil instead of butter, water or nondairy milk instead of eggs, and since you don't already have vegan chocolate you leave out the chocolate chips- at least according to the recipe you found. They're basically sugar cookies and you only make six for Steven, some of which you sprinkle with cinnamon to make up for their plainness, but you imagine they're a decent thanks for the sugar you borrowed- even if it was a ploy.
A couple of hours later, you knock on Steven's door again, this time with a small Tupperware container for the cookies you made him. He opens it again with the same confused frown after a few moments.
"Hi again! I know you said not to bother with the cookies because you're vegan but I wanted to say thanks anyway so- I adjusted my recipe to accommodate. They're sugar cookies except two of them are cinnamon, I wasn't sure if you like cinnamon so I didn't make them all cinnamon but the cookies are vegan. So, thank you, for the sugar." You say handing him the plastic container.
"You adjusted your recipe so that I could have some cookies?" Steven doesn't seem to believe the words even as he says them.
"Yes. I know you said I didn't have to bring any but I wanted to anyway. Since I did use your sugar to make them."
"Thank you. I appreciate the effort. I can't wait to try them."
"If you ever need anything, just knock." You tell him and wait for his cautious nod. "I'll be seeing you." You say leaving without waiting for him to agree with that statement. From then on, Steven does in fact make a point to speak to you more often. The first time is a couple of days later, he runs into you in the elevator and tells you he enjoyed the cookies. He'll definitely speak to you when he sees you around the building but it's on you to actually make plans if you want to see him otherwise and sometimes you do. You invite him out to lunch, have him over for tea, suggest movies to watch together, you even visit him at work every once in a while. The first time you went to his job you didn't even know he worked there, I mean he'd told you he worked at a museum but you never thought to ask which one, but once you knew he worked there you definitely made a point to pop in and say hi when you're around and he's working. It takes a while but you manage to build a pretty good friendship with him over the next few months to the point where you're hanging out a couple of times a week these days. In fact, he's supposed to be over later today to show you some movie he's been dying for you to see. For now, you're sitting on your couch reading a novel until he gets here. It'll be another few hours before he comes knocking at your door. 
You've really enjoyed getting to know him, more than you expected to honestly. He's as sweet and awkward as he comes off at first glance but there's something endearing about his gentle shyness even when he's raving about whatever thing has most recently captured his attention. You find yourself looking forward to the time you spend together more than you like to admit. You have no idea if your fondness is reciprocated to the same extent and you also have no idea how to broach the subject with him. Much like a skittish animal, you're always careful about how you make changes to your dynamic. It's something you try not to dwell on, if he likes you or if you'll tell him you like him and how to do so, things are good between you two and as they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it. 
Your head snaps up at the sudden rush of fear you sense. The book in your lap long forgotten anyway as you had been lost in your thoughts until the dread you felt in your very bones pulled you from them. It's not your own though, that panic, and you have to take a moment to pinpoint the source. You gasp when you realize it's coming from Steven. It's been a while since you felt someone's feelings so uninhibited and you rush out of your apartment before you can even consider a plan. He must be in trouble for you to feel his alarm this way. When you reach for his doorhandle you hear some sort of crashing sound inside and you force open his apartment door to find Steven evading someone attempting to corner him in the apartment.
"Steven!" You gasp when the masked intruder chucks some sort of dagger at him.
"Y/n?! Get out of here!" Steven shouts at you from behind the couch. You ignore him and charge the attacker by launching yourself using Steven's side table. The attacker can't react quickly enough to the kick that you aim directly at their chest and they go down hard. You don't give the stranger a chance to get up and strike either of you, taking advantage of their disoriented state you slip into their mind, 'suggesting' that they leave and forget they ever came here, forget Steven even exists and forget you while you're at it. When the masked assailant stands again they climb out of the window they came through without saying a word.
"Are you alright Steven?" You frown turning your attention to where he's frowning from behind his kitchen counter. When did he move behind the kitchen counter?
"What just happened?" He blinks at you.
"I am- a magical being of sorts-"
"Like a witch?"
"Something like that. I mean- I can do magic in the more traditional sense, like spells and such but most of my powers are telepathic. I can read minds and alter memories, reshape reality-"
"What?" You hardly register Steven's shocked exclamation.
"I mean that can take a lot of energy depending on the scale, like I obviously can't do it for everyone, everywhere, at the same time but like- I could say, make it look and feel like there are spiders all over this room." You shrug.
"Why would you ever-"
"Arachnids are a common phobia, it's gotten me out of some touchy situations." You say.
"That doesn't explain what just happened though." Steven shakes his head.
"Oh, I can control people if it comes down to it. I just- made the person leave and forget you exist."
"You can do what?!" His eyes widen.
"I don't use it! Usually. I've only done it a couple of times to protect myself or someone who really needed it." You shrug.
"And your protection was to force someone to do something else against their will?!"
"Hey, that person was literally trying to kill you! I could've taken the violent route instead but I'm not a fan of it!"
"So that man-"
"Doesn't remember being here, doesn't remember attacking you, doesn't even remember you exist. You're safe." You say.
"Holy shit."
"Look I wanted to be honest with you because I care about you but if this is too much for you to handle then- I will leave all I ask is that you keep my secret to yourself."
"You won't just... take it from me?"
"I don't want to. And I won't, unless that information in your hands becomes a threat to my life."
"Have you ever used them on me? Your powers?" He asks. You pause for a moment considering how to answer. Admittedly he doesn't seem to be taking all this super well, you wonder if it would be worse to just say no but looking at him you can't bring yourself to tell the lie.
"I have. Not- on purpose and nothing altering. No mind control or memory changing or reality reshaping- absolutely nothing that changed anything about you it's just that sometimes your thoughts are loud. You yell in your head a lot- in several voices. Sometimes I can hear them." You explain.
"You can hear them? The different voices?"
"Yes. I don't quite understand it but I never snooped I just- would leave when I realized it was happening again." You say.
"I think you should go." Steven says avoiding your gaze. Your shoulders drop for a moment that you're sure he doesn't see.
"I see. Alright but Steven-"
"Your secret is yours. I won't tell anybody." He says quietly. You nod although he's still not looking directly at you.
"Okay. If you need anything- my door's open. Otherwise, take care- Steven." You say and exit his apartment before he can respond. Steven's reaction hurts more than you'd like it to, you suppose you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret from him forever though. It would've come out eventually, especially if you got any closer to him as you had considered. 
The next two weeks are weird. Steven doesn't text you, or call you, or come over for tea or lunch, you make a point not to visit him at work as you are positive he's avoiding you based on the fact that he's clearly adjusted all of his habits so as to not run into to you around the apartment building. That- you think stings more than his initial reaction. To think he was so put out by your revelation that he no longer wanted to even risk seeing you... Whatever, you wouldn't dwell on it. The world keeps spinning. A sudden knock on your door interrupts you before you can focus back on what you were working on. With a confused frown, you walk over to the door and look through the spyhole to see Steven standing in the hall, and that surprises you immensely. For on that knock was sharp and harsh in a way you've never heard Steven knock on anything ever, but also for him to just show up at your door after 2 weeks is... unexpected. You pull open the door and lean casually against the frame.
"Hello." He nods and you immediately notice he does not sound like himself. You quirk an eyebrow at him.
"Steven? Hi. What are you doing here? And- why are you talking funny?"
"I'm not Steven my name is Marc Spector." He says.
"Did you hit your head or something?" You snort crossing your arms in confusion.
"No? I'm perfectly fine."
"Right except your name isn't Marc Spector it's Steven Grant. Unless you've been lying to me since we met which- would certainly be interesting but I don't think that's what's happening here." You say.
"Not quite. See we have a... condition-"
"Do not tell me about what's wrong with your body!" You put your hands up to stop him.
"It's psychological." He says.
"Oh okay. Proceed." You say.
"It's called dissociative identity disorder. My mind is- fractured. Essentially this body houses more than one consciousness." He explains.
"This sounds very Jekyll and Hyde and if you're coming to me to say you're a serial killer I don't-" You trail off when suddenly something clicks. "Holy shit you're one of the voices in Steven's head!" You gasp. You knew he sounded familiar but you didn't pinpoint it until just now.
"First of all, it's my head okay I am the original. Secondly- Steven told you about us?!"
"If he did do you think I would sound as confused as I do right now? No, he didn't tell me anything. I just realized why I recognize your voice." You say.
"Recognize my voice?" Now he's looking at you like you're crazy.
"I can hear you sometimes. You are quite loud- especially compared to the other one."
"You can hear us?" His eyes are wide as saucers.
"Yes, never on purpose though. I'm a telepath. I can read minds and change memories and alter reality and stuff like that so- sometimes I can hear you- which by the way we still haven't answered the billion dollar question why are you here?"
"Steven has been moping around for over a week now and every time we force him to leave he looks longingly at your door so I came to find out what the hell you did to him because I swear-"
"I didn't do anything to him. I told him I was a telepath and he freaked. He's been avoiding me since. All on his own. And before you start throwing around threats I'll warn you Marc Spector that I could take hold of your entire fractured little mind without even breaking a sweat. So tread carefully if you're going to start swearing things." Your eyes narrow at him.
"He's been avoiding you?" He blinks.
"We talked about my powers, he asked me to leave, and so I did. Probably assumes I'll take advantage of him using them or something." You shrug.
"Well you did just threaten me."
"It wasn't a threat it was a warning. Besides I'd never hurt Steven, you I don't know and you did start a pretty menacing sentence that prompted me to- never mind."
"Now I'm confused. If he's avoiding you, why is he moping around the apartment?" He frowns.
"You're asking me. You're the one that shares a body with him." You say.
"Explain to me exactly what went down?"
"I was in my apartment and someone attacked Steven- I don't know who or why but could feel it so I went over to help and I used my powers to get rid of them."
"What'd you do? Launch him out the window?"
"No? I just made him forget about us and where he was but when he mindlessly climbed back out the way he came in without attacking us I obviously had to explain some things. I guess Steven didn't take it all that well." You shrug.
"That doesn't sound right. I think you should talk to him."
"I- don't think he wants to do that." You shake your head.
"No. No, this has gone on long enough. Hang on." Marc says.
"Marc seriously mind your-"
"Y/n?" He grimaces. You recognize immediately that it's Steven you're talking to now.
"Steven- one the uh- voices? Marc? He thinks we need to have a conversation. Does he make a habit of meddling in your life this way?"
"Less often than you might think but- I do owe you an apology." His head drops.
"What for, exactly?"
"How I- handled things before. I was... cold, it's just that when you said you could hear Marc and Jake I was worried about what else you-"
"I'm sorry, who is Jake?" You shake your head at him.
"The identity disorder thing- there are three of us as far as we know. Myself, Marc, and Jake." Steven says and you nod as you piece it together.
"Would it be presumptuous of me to guess that Marc and Jake are not your only secrets?"
"No actually. Marc is an avatar."
"Of what?" You ask. Steven's shocked confusion prompts you to fill in the gaps, "I've met avatars for each of the sins so, one of those maybe? Or a celestial body of some sort? The moon perhaps- I'm guessing you don't mean in the same sense as the cartoon boy because people with elemental manipulation do not refer to themselves that way in real life so-"
"Khonshu." Steven says when you trail.
"What?"
"He's- Khonshu's avatar."
"Egyptian God. Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong he's the god of justice, right?"
"That's right." He nods.
"So the guy that was attacking you a few weeks ago was probably mad at him for- something related to that."
"Most likely. Can't imagine a museum guest putting a hit out on me for not having any more pyramid pens or something." Steven scratches the back of his neck and you chuckle a bit at his joke.
"Interesting."
"Look- that day, I wasn't sure if this was something I was ready to tell you. I've never told anyone this before, the only person that knows is Marc's ex-wife, so when you said you could hear our thoughts I was worried you knew more than just that there were voices in my head and- I'm sorry." Steven trails off with a sigh.
"So- what changed? Why are you telling me now?"
"Well Marc revealed himself to you." Steven says. "But more than that I just- really hate not being able to talk to you. I like my life way more with you in it but I- after how I reacted I sort of figured I'd earned my misery, that I didn't deserve your forgiveness because when you chose to trust me with your secrets I turned you away, I even judged you, instead showing literally any modicum of support of the person I care about. I made an ass of myself."
"I wasn't upset with you, you know. I mean as far as shitty reactions go yours doesn't even make the top 5. You didn't tell the apartment building to gather their pitchforks so- I count that as a win." You shrug.
"I would never-"
"I know." You nod. "While we're- confessing our sins anything else you wanna share?" You ask with a chuckle. Steven holds your gaze for a long moment and there's a brief second where you consider finding out for yourself what he's contemplating so hard, you won't of course, but the silence drags long enough to make you want to rescind the question. Eventually, Steven's hand grabs your arm and yanks you towards him. His eyes are so wide at the action you'd think he's not the one who pulled you but before you can ask him about it his lips are on yours. The kiss is short and a bit unsure but his mouth is soft against yours and when he pulls away still with that wide-eyed look you do nothing but blink at him for a moment.
"I- I'm so sorry that was- I mean Marc was- I didn't plan- I wasn't going to-"
"Steven." You place your hand against his cheek to halt his frazzled rambling. "Did you want to kiss me?" You ask.
"I've wanted to kiss you for months." He breathes.
"Then don't apologize. I've wanted to kiss you too."
"Really?"
"Yes so- I think I'm going to do it again." You say pausing long enough to give him an out. When his eyes flutter closed you take that as your sign to lean forward and connect your lips again. You're sure in that moment you could do this forever and you silently wish to whatever powers above that you'll have that long to do it as many times as you wish.
***
A/N: I'm thinking of turning this into an anthology (like There is No Right Way) of the moonknight trio dating a telepath because I think it would be interesting idk- anyone interested in more of this dynamic?
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from-the-clouds · 2 years
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bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader
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part one | masterlist | song inspo |
Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...
summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.
Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 
Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 
Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.
The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 
“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.
“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”
“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.
“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 
Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”
Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”
Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.
“So, can we, uh…”
Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”
Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 
The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.
It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 
Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.
But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.
Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?
It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 
Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.
“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 
Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 
Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 
The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 
He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 
Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.
It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 
Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,
A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 
More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 
Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.
Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?
Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 
‘Shut the fuck up!’
Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 
“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”
He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 
“Joel?”
He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 
You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 
“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”
There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.
Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.
When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.
“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 
Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 
“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”
“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 
You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 
What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 
He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 
But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 
You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 
“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 
You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”
You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 
“Slow down,” he says.
“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 
Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”
Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 
Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 
It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.
“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 
There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.
“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 
Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.
Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”
“Were you hurt?” 
“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”
Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.
“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”
“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.
You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.
“I heard about that,” Joel offers.
“Wait…you knew about this?”
“Yeah.”
“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”
“No.”
“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 
“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”
“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.
“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”
“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”
“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.
“What are we, like, friends now?”
He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.
“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”
You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.
“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 
Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 
You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.
“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”
“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”
“Did you take those antibiotics?”
“Yes.”
“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”
“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 
Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 
“Don’t you have a heater?”
“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”
“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 
You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”
Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 
“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.
“I should probably go now.”
You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 
Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 
“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 
Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 
“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 
“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 
“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”
He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”
Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 
“I could help you loosen up.”
Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.
“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”
“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”
Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 
“Go lie down on the bed.”
It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 
“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 
──────
If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 
Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 
It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 
After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.
Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 
“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 
You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s nothing,” you agree. 
“I won’t be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle.”
“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 
You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”
“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”
You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 
“That’s it, nice and slow.” 
Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 
Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 
“Turn around.”
You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 
That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.
“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.
You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 
“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”
Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.
But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 
“Lie back, close your eyes.”
Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 
There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 
And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.
“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.
The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”
“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 
You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 
Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 
Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.
“Slow down.”
You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 
He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.
When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”
He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.
“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 
“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.
“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 
“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.
He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.
Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 
He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”
You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 
“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.
“When?”
“At night. More than once.”
“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”
“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 
“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”
You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 
The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 
His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 
“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.
“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.
“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.
Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”
He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.
You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 
If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 
And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.
“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.
“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.
“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”
“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.
All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.
“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”
“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 
“Yes, please, please,” 
“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”
“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 
Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.
You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 
You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 
At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 
So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 
He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.
You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.
“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”
“But I just wanted to-”  
“No.” 
You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.
Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 
“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”
It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 
“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”
He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 
“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.
──────
Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 
He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.
But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 
You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 
Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.
“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”
A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 
Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 
“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.
“I know, I know.”
You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 
Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 
“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”
All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”
“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”
“O-okay.’ 
He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.
You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 
Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 
He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 
“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.
Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 
It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 
Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  
It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 
You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 
A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 
It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.
He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.
“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”
“What?” you roll to face him. 
“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”
“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.
“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 
“You do.” 
“So…. I’ll teach you.” 
“....Okay.” 
“Alright.”
Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 
himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.
You never do. 
Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 
The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.
“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”
He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.
──────
taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace
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bloodyymaryyy · 4 months
Text
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Language lessons
Grid x greek driver reader
Masterlist
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Side note : something relatively small because it's finals weeks so.... I have to study anyway to whoever send anon about James Vowels, I am really sorry but I do not want to write anymore for him so... I apologise.
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
Words in different languages
F1 Vegas edition
That was the title of the video
It was media day, you had a love - hate relationship with your media duties, there are days you like being there but there is also days that you did not want to be there.
Today you loved it because you and your teammate Max Verstappen and Checo Pérez .
You would be doing a video with alpha tauri well technically visa something but you refuse to say it like that.
The video's idea was to line you up with your teammates and the two drivers. Yuki tsunoda, and Daniel Ricciardo.
First was Danny, then yuki, Checo, max and then you. The idea of the video is for the world to see some words in different languages and since it was the Las Vegas Grand Prix the words were inspired by it
The first word was Casino which Danny said then
yuki in Japanese kajino
then Checo dinero
max casino
then you answered : Καζίνο
the other four drivers looked at you, confused you ask them
" what?"
Yuki spoke up :" nothing it just sounds really heavy for some reason"
" well wait and see the rest buddy" you answered him
Again Danny with sphere
Yuki : "what is sphere? " someone from behind the camera showed him and he understood " safaia"
Checo : " Esfera"
Max : " no fucking clue" he said and triggered a laugh from all of them " I don't know i guess sphere?" then Danny butted in with a remark " I don't know make one" again laughter
Y/n : " Σφαίρα"
No reaction whatsoever and moved on
Danny : gamble
Yuki : Guanburu
Checo : apuesta
Max : gokken
Y/n : Στοίχημα? Έτσι δεν το λένε έχει ούτε κι άλλος πολλές λέξεις για αυτό ? " you say looking at your Greek friend which you got a nod from you looked at your driver friends looking at you confused" I was asking him if it was the right one because we have a few words for that " you said shrugging and your friends exclaimed in understanding
Danny : Poker
Yuki : poka
Checo : póker
Max : poker
Y/n : πόκερ
Again moved on
Danny : cards
Yuki : kado
Checo : cartas
Max : kaarten
Y/n : κάρτες
Danny looked at you and said " Greek sounds like Spanish it's crazy"
"well it does sounds like Spanish that's why I was able to learn Spanish easily dude" y/n answered him
Yuki then spoke again : I haven't really heard you speak Greek, can you say something quick like a sentence? " he looked up to you with anticipation
"what do you want me to say?" y/n said
" I don't know like a normal every day sentence like how are you and stuff"
" Ε.... Καλημέρα πως είσαι? Είσαι καλά? Is that enough?"
"wow it's enough! What did you say?"
"I said : good morning, how are you, are you okay? I have spoken in the drivers parade interviews in only Greek, haven't you seen it? Or anyone from here? "
" I have!" There was your team that answered and Max with checo the same time " I should hope so for my team but you and max? I honestly didn't expect it!" you said to checo who was now beside you on the left and on the right max.
The media crew came to tell you about the rest of the day what activities you had to complete like driving the floating cars ( or something I don't know what it is) in the sdame place in the desert.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months
Note
So, I've had this strange and, maybe, cool idea that I would like to share with you!
Reader, who made their way up to the Galar Championsip, they are known for their strange connection to Pokémon, and for never talking, or showing their face. People know very little about them, and rarely see them, but on one day, the finally day, the truth unfolds!
When they step onto the field, surrounded by cameras, they throw off their cloak only to show that all this time, the Pokémon Trainer was not in fact human, but also a Pokémon! Bisharp, to be exact.
The shock, the news! The unexpected twist!
Hope that you'll like it! Take your time, I can wait, writing is a very tiring progress✨
"Leon! How do you feel about the mystery challenger you endorsed being moments away from battling you?"
"Have they ever spoken a word to you, Leon?"
"Who do you think they could be? Someone outside this region? An old rival looking for revenge?"
"I haven't got a clue who they are just yet, but if I know one thing...it's that this battle is going to be amazing! I can just feel it!" The Galarian Champion grinned with pride, standing amidst a swarm of reporters who wanted to question him before he prepared for the final match.
At last, the day arrived.
One that many anticipated.
Because today Leon will be facing a particularly unique challenger:
You, somebody who mysteriously showed up in Galar one day and kept their identity hidden beneath a covert cloak. Nobody knew what you actually looked like, and it was even harder to know what you sounded like....as you've never spoken to anyone.
Not even to Leon, although you made your wishes to enter the gym challenge very clear when you approached him, handing him a card with a simple request:
Endorse Me --B
"B" was the only name he knew you by, and nothing else. But he understood that you probably didn't like talking too much, similar to Allister. So he obliged, permitting you to wear the cloak as you were rather insistent on doing so.
Who would have though you'd conquer the Championship by storm and were now minutes away from battling him for the title?
You've truly wowed the crowd as you defeated the gym leaders with flying colors. And all you ever did was point at them and let your Pokémon finish the job--all without uttering a single command.
You even took down Raihan's Gigantamaxed-Duraludon in just a single turn!
It's like you shared a psychic connection with them, although you've ducked out of the way of reporters and fanatics who were just obsessed with you, refusing to be swarmed.
Still, your aura of mystery, strong bonds, and intelligent Pokémon quickly became the talk of the town. And it made Leon all the more thrilled to battle you, hoping he'll get to learn more about you that way.
So when the news crew started getting word that you arrived in Wyndon for the final match, he took that as his cue to get ready.
He was so excited, he almost got lost on his way to the locker room.
.........
Stepping out onto the field, you were immediately greeted by cameras hovering on all sides, mounted by Aegislash.
Every angle was determined to capture you in your star moment...as you were about to battle Galar's current champion.
But even with all of this attention on you, you didn't wave or acknowledge the cameras one bit. Your focus was only on the purple-haired man who was waiting for you in the center.
For a second or two, Leon was thrown-off by the uproarious cheers coming from the crowd after you appeared. Usually he was being rooted for the most, although it's clear that people were psyched to see you battle him.
You've been one of Galar's greatest mysteries since your arrival, and still nobody knew who you were or how you became so strong.
Stopping in front of him, you looked into his eyes, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Well this is it, B. The moment everyone's been waiting for." He grinned. "Are you ready for.......oh, guess they are.." His face fell flat as you simply turned and headed back to your position on the field.
Now he was just dying to find out who you truly are.
Who really stood under that cloak?
For now, though, all that mattered was this battle that would determine if he'd successfully defend his title as Champion...or if you were somehow going to come out on top.
Standing back at his position, Leon patted both side of his face, taking a few deep breaths. Then he tossed his heavy cape to the wind, which was hastily collected by a staff member before he struck his signature pose for all to see.
The crowd's cheers have grown tenfold, chanting his name as they mimicked the iconic gesture.
You grunted in interest, impressed how that simple action got everyone so riled up and excited. And it made you wonder...
Looking to your cloak, you gripped it with metal fingers that were barely visible to the cameras. For a moment or two you stood there debating, wondering if....
No.
You're done dodging people and hiding from the public eye.
You've kept up this mystery long enough.
It's about time everyone here knew who you really were.
"What's this? Is our mystery challenger about to reveal their identity??" An announcer cried out. "It's the moment we've all been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen!!!"
With another grunt, you finally threw off your cloak, letting it fall to the ground beside you, eyes closed as you anticipated everybody's judgement.
Most of the crowd descended into silence; even Leon, Hop, and the other gym leaders couldn't believe what they were seeing right before their very eyes.
After all this time, they thought they were battling a strong human Pokémon Trainer.
But no.
Instead it was a Pokémon itself.
"What a twist! I can't believe it! It seems that our mysterious competitor is none other than the Pokémon Bisharp! Somehow it has risen through the ranks of the championship without the assistance of a trainer! It's incredible! This has NEVER happened in the history of Pokémon battling!!"
Soon the crowd went WILD.
Many wondered how it was even legal for a Pokémon to enter a human competition; a few others--especially those watching from home--were convinced you were just a person in a Bisharp costume.
But the cameras surrounding you didn't lie.
You were a real Bisharp, and you were determined to become the first ever Pokémon to win a championship.
"Shar.." With a smirk, you raised your hands up to the cameras, giving them a small wave. You were relieved that your secret was finally out; it gave you a massive confidence boost after seeing how all the humans reacted.
As you then sharpened your bladed arms and readied your first pokeball, you gazed at Leon from across the way. His jaw was dropped in shock, unable to believe who he was battling.
It was quite amusing to you.
Of course, many knew Bisharps were strategic commanders of Pawniards....but nobody would have guessed they'd be intelligent enough to lead a competitive team of different Pokémon outside their lineage.
Well, you're the shining example that it was possible.
After sending out your Pokémon, you huffed, wondering when your opponent was going to snap out of it and start taking this battle seriously.
But he quickly realized you were waiting, and seemed flustered.
"Sorry. I just...wow....I can't believe you were.....ah, what does it matter?" Shaking his head, he grinned as he finally sent out his first Pokémon, ready to defend his title. "We're gonna have a champion time regardless. So give me everything you got, Bisharp!"
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dckweed · 10 months
Note
Sooo glad you posted a second part of the Jakex best friend baby story. A huuuge hug for you =) so in a matter of fact I squealed a bit as I read that you're accepting requests for this story. So I would have an idea, maybe you like it, if not I'm still going to read EVERYTHING you write =)
I'm thinking of reader is feeling off for days, like feeling dizzy and stressed out. The nausea is also taking a toll on her. One evening at the Hard Deck with the whole squad a woman is approaching Jake... Unfortunately it's his ex girlfriend. She immediately flirts with him and making the reader really uncomfortable. Jake tries to get rid of his bitchy ex by showing off reader and introducing her to his ex. She's already sporting a small bump, which his ex notices. Later reader goes to the bathroom, not feeling so hot, but Jake's ex follows her and corners her at the bathroom insulting reader for being a slut, being pregnant and stealing Jake, absolutely stressing the pregnant woman out. After her harassment she leaves the bathroom leaving reader alone. The whole situation worsens her feeling sick and she collapses in one of the stalls.
Just need some huuuge whump and Jake and the Daggers being protective. Maybe you can use some of my ideas.
P.S.: it's so brave that you share your personal story here with us. You're a strong young woman. I belive in you!
hiii thank you for sending this in! absolutely love the idea! and thank you so much, i feel like eating disorders and the struggles that come with them aren't something thats spoken of enough and i really would like to bring awareness by sharing my own story :) so, if anyone has any questions about that, feel free to send them in ! I'm here to advocate and be a voice..if you think you have one or know someone who does and dont know how or where to get help, i got you, if you're wondering how to cope with symptoms, i got you!
in the meantime however, i give you my comfort loves, jake and babygirl! please feel free to send in any requests, comments or thoughts that you may have for this particular series ! and in lieu of halloween, this is officially halloween themed.
p.s. how are we doing today? are we hydrated? have we had a snack or two? this is your reminder to go do both if you haven't already! also does someone want to possibly make a boodboard for jake and babygirl?? full credit would go to you in every post if i use it !
warnings: elusions to sex and actual soft sex mentioned and described as well as cockwarming briefly mentioned, pregnancy, fainting, hospitals, grown adults bullying essentially
the babygirl series part three, part two here
BABYGIRL, the playlist
INSECURITIES. jake 'hangman' seresin
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Your breathing was even as you layed on your back, one of your legs caught between his. The NAVY tshirt you were wearing (his navy tshirt) rode up to rest just beneath your glorious breasts with your arms raised up, one tucked under the pillow next to your head, the other laid across his chest, your tummy on full display. You had been with him for just over a month now, having extended your two week vacation indefinitely. He knew you two would have to fly home sometime soon, to pack up the things in your apartment and eventually make your way over to your families ranch's to let them know what was going on, but he didn't want to think about that, not now when had what felt like all the time in the world to admire you.
Your stomach rose and fell with every breath and almost instinctively he finds his hand resting there, thumb rubbing gently back and forth over the small but slowly growing more prominent baby bump you were beginning to sport. You had been shy about him doing that, and he knew that it was because in the back of your mind, that little baby growing in you hadn't come from him, but if you asked him, that little girl in there was his, even without the Seresin blood. He hadn't ran away or called you names when you had told him, infact, it had only drawn him to you more. You were his, and so was the little miracle you were growing and he wasn't afraid to admit it either. Hell, he had gone that night to the Hard Deck, a dopey grin on his face as he walked in with your hand in his and had announced it to the entire bar, happily telling his friends and Penny about the bun in your proverbial oven. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.
You shift after another moment, a small groan coming from your throat as you turn towards him, head pressed against his chest now. He presses a content kiss to the top of your messy hair adjusting you so that his arm was under you now, holding you against him. The bedroom was still dark but sunlight was slowly starting to seep through the small slit in the curtains, lighting up a small patch of the floor and the bed. He wondered if he should get up and open the window for you, maybe brew a pot of the decaf coffee he'd immediately switched you to when he found out about the baby.
He's about to decide against the thoughts, not wanting to wake you, not when you were sleeping so soundly after having a rough week of being sick and uncomfortable, you beat him to it though, your soft whine reaching his ears. "Mornin' babygirl.." He says, southern accent more prominent in his gruff morning voice. A smile spreads across his lips, as easy as butter glides across toasts as you lift your head up slowly, sleepy eyes meeting his before planting a long and slow good morning kiss on him. "You were sleeping so good, i didn't want to wake you up.."
You hum, trying to gather your sleepy wits about you, even though it had only been a month, jake was usually the only thing you noticed in the mornings, his warmth and love completely enveloping you, the only thing your mind could register besides the nausea usually rolling in your tummy, so it took you a moment to fully wake up.
After a few minutes of snuggling into your boyfriend, his hand rubbing your belly almost soothingly, you decide that you don't feel queasy enough to run to the bathroom right away (a godsend, really) and you shift yourself so that you're sitting atop of him, legs on either side of his hips, comforter slouched around your legs.
He looks up at you with an amused smile, large hands gliding up your thighs to land on your hips, just underneath of the baggy tshirt you'd stolen from him. "Somethin' i can help you with?" He asks, sleepy southern drawl sending shockwaves through your body as the hands on your hips grind you down against him, you were still bare from the night before, the two of you having stayed up late together just making love to each other.
You were insatiable when it came to him, maybe it was years of pent up sexual tension, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just that you guys were so perfect for each other that you literally could not get enough of one another, whatever it was though, neither of you was complaining. You had never been more satisfied from just one single touch before, had never been left craving more of the person you were with until you had been with Jake.
"Have time for a proper good morning, fly boy?" You ask teasingly, already lifting the hem of your shirt to toss it onto the floor, which was where most of your clothes had been finding their home these days when it came to the bedroom.
"Keep it on for me, babygirl, want you to wear it while i watch you ride me," You hadn't even noticed that one of his hands had already been between your bodies, but he was sliding his cock out of his boxers and gliding you down onto it as he spoke, a sigh of pleasure already leaving your lips before you're even sunk down fully onto him. "Feel so good babygirl," He groans, already pussy drunk off of you.
His fingers grip tighter onto your hips as you ride him lazily, hips moving back and forth in a languid but pleasurable pace, his hips bucking up into yours softly. "Jake," You whine, hands planted on his hard chest, fingers curled into the coarse hairs that scattered there, he grunts in response as he thrusts up into you, his massive hands pulling you down to meet his cock with each one. "so full baby, feels so good jakey.." Your words only fueled his ego, his eyebrows furrowing as he pumps up into you, you were both still overly sensitive from the night before and he knew that he wasn't going to last long, and neither were you judging by the way your nails dug into the skin of his chest.
Jake furrows his brows deeper, watching your face contort with pleasure as he continues to slowly fuck up into your overly sensitive body, his own toes curling into the mattress as he tries to stave off his own orgasm, a feat proving much harder than he had originally thought with the noises that escaped you and the way your pussy felt clamping around him right then.. "..so pretty, babygirl, always so fucking pretty for me.." He grunts out, feeling the way you clench down on him, hearing the whine come from your throat as you cum, your thighs shaking on either side of him. "..that's it baby, thats it.." He says, not too far behind you. He cums as your body sags against his, his hands on your ass the only thing holding you steady as you bury your head in his neck, leaving small kisses along the top of his collar bone.
"..Do you have to go to work, baby?" You ask, lifting your head up to look at him, the pout that he had never been able to say no to adorning your lips.
You can't help but smirk a little as your boyfriend throws his head back with a groan, one of his hands snaking its way up your back. "Babygirl, i would give anything to stay home with you attached to me like this all day long," his voice is thick, that accent ever so present as he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear. "but i gotta go to work, we're running flight trainings today.." Though they were a permanent mission squad within the TOP GUN training academy, they weren't always training for missions and today was one of those days where they got to run flights with the newer admissions who all thought they were the shit. Otherwise known as, Jake Seresin Gets To Show Off day.
You groan and drop your head to his chest, listening to him chuckle at you before he kisses the top of your head. "Fine, shower with me?" You lift your head up, a playful waggle to your eyebrows that he just can't say no to.
"I think that can be arranged." He says with a smile, his arms wrapping around your ass to hold you as he swiftly stands up with you, making you squeal in surprise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him in fear of falling. Your ass meets the cold counter of the bathroom sink as he sets you down on it, peppering your face with kisses as he flips the light switch, making you giggle and smile that beautiful smile he loved so much. "Don't move."
"Yes Sir!" You chuckle, watching as he opens the shower door and steps in, turning it on. "Make sure its hot baby!" You instruct, practically feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head despite doing as you said.
"I will never understand you and the volcanic level of hot water you bathe in, how do you even have skin left?" He asks, voice serious as he walks over to you, stepping between your legs as he reaches behind you to turn the faucet on with one hand while the other reaches above your head, grabbing the bottle he'd seen you use every morning since you'd been with him.
"It's relaxing!" You argue, voice raising an octave as you try not to laugh at him when he suddenly splashes your face with cold water. "Excuse me for not liking to take an ice plunge every time i step into the shower," You cackle, causing him to start laughing as he brings his hands to your cheeks, gently rubbing them with your favorite facial cleanser. You hadn't even noticed him put it on his fingers, but it felt like he was massaging your face and it felt damn good. "You spoil me, you know?" You hum, relaxing into his touch, eyes closing. He could have lulled you back to sleep like that if he wanted to.
Jake grunts in disagreement. "I don't spoil you nearly enough, babygirl." He states, completely believing it. He wouldn't tell you but he was already planning how to ask you to marry him, he didn't need to wait a year, or even until the baby was born, he knew you were the one for him and he just couldn't wait to spoil you even more once you were his wife, and spoil the hell out of the little hellions you guys would have together.
After a minute he grabs a soft wash cloth from the drawer by the sink and wets it only a little, gently wiping the cleanser off of your face for you. The action of the thing was just so freaking sweet, and so fucking Jake that you didn't have the heart to tell him that you weren't supposed to wipe away the cleanser like that. It doesn't take long before the shower has steamed up the whole bathroom and he's helping you off of the counter before leading you into the shower, letting you step under the water first after he helps you slip his navy tshirt over your head.
You hum as the water hits you, your body relaxing as you feel his thumbs kneading the skin at the base of your neck, the spot where you tend to hold all of your tension. You lean back into him and just let the water wash over you, enjoying the closeness with him.
The pleasantness of the morning only lasts for a couple of hours, not too long after Jake leaves for work (with a kiss to your cheek and a smack to your ass) the intense feeling of nausea and a pounding headache that had been plaguing you with it for the past two weeks came crawling back, you thought you had been rid of it finally when you woke up feeling perfect this morning, but of course it was too good to be true. You're hunched over the toilet for hours, the breakfast Jake had been kind enough to make you crawling its way out of your stomach.
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" You ask your stomach after a nasty bout of vomiting, and as if in answer, your stomach lurches unpleasantly, though you manage not to spew everywhere this time.
You seem to be fine for the rest of the day, though your head pounds and you sit in darkness until about the time that Jake gets off work, knowing he was going to be home and excited to head straight to the hard deck with the crew for Penny's Halloween party. You had been excited too, had even planned out your costume with him but god you hadn't felt this bad before, this was the most intense day of morning sickness that you'd had the entire time you'd been pregnant. You were tempted to call it off, send him on his own, but you knew he wouldn't go. He would stay by your side and take care of you, and you didn't want that, not when he had been so excited to show you off tonight.
Despite your better judgement you start getting yourself ready around the time you know he's getting ready to leave base, you know your timing is right because you get a 'be home soon babygirl' text from him a few minutes into your endeavor. You smile at your phone for a second, wondering how you got so damn lucky to be able to be in love with your best fucking friend in the whole world..
You're in the middle of painting your small but ever present swollen baby belly with safe, brown paint, standing in the full body mirror as you do it. You're trying to make it look as much like a bun as possible, which isn't as easy as it seems when you can't physically detach your stomach and lay it flat on a table to look at and paint like you could literally anything else. You hear the front door open, and his voice carry's through it's usual greeting. "In the bedroom!" You holler back. You hear something thump onto the floor (his duffle, probably filled with his sweaty khaki uniform and underclothes) and his boots thud down the hallway.
"Hey, Babyg-" You turn to face him as soon as you peek him and his dark green flight suit in the doorway, showing off the bun you were working so hard on. Thankfully, focusing so hard on something else had pushed your nausea and headache to the back of your mind, the least of your worries as you locked eyes with your grinning boyfriend. "That looks so good Babygirl! Look at you and our little girl all dressed up for Halloween.." He steps into the room, his smile lighting his face as he brings his lips to yours, before he can even kiss you though your nose scrunches up at the smell of him, sweaty and smelling like airplane fuel and oil.
You know it's coming before your stomach even lurches and you shove him away from you so hard he lands on the bed, a shocked noise escaping him as you rush into the bathroom, sliding in front of the toilet just in the nick of time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Jake rush into the bathroom behind you, crouching down with you to rub your back. You manage to wave him away as you heave and he seems to get the hint, taking a step back.
"You smell." You groan when you're sure you've finished, trying to find the strength to stand up and rinse your mouth out. Jake makes an offended noise in the back of his throat, but you shoot him a glare that tells him you're serious and it seems to shut him up.
"Right," He says, clapping his hands together as you finally stand up. "i'll shower, you finish getting ready if you feel like you're able to go..if not, we'll stay home and watch 90 day Fiancé or something.." He wouldn't admit it to you, but your reality show addiction had become one of his new favorite hobbies and he would be more than happy to spend the night in bed with you binging. Who needed a Halloween party anyway? "How many times have you done that today?"
"I'll be fine to go, that's the first time that's happened all day." You lie, sidling up next to him to rinse out your mouth, trying desperately not to breathe through your nose so you don't repeat the emptying of your already empty stomach for the tenth time today. You meet his eyes in the mirror, he's looking at you like he doesn't believe you. "Really baby," You smile, turning around to face him. You look up at the handsome man before you, trying your hardest not to breathe in his scent. "I'll be okay, just take a shower and wash all the airplane gunk off of you before it happens again."
He gives you a long look, green eyes searching your face for any sign that he shouldn't let you go tonight and just make you stay home instead, he really couldn't have cared either way about the damn halloween party, now that he had you, you were the only thing that he ever cared to spend his time with. "Okay," He concedes, ruffling your hair with his ginormous hand. You roll your eyes at the action, but your body relaxes despite feeling horrible about the lie. "I'll be out in a few minutes."
You pushed through the next hour or so, finishing your costume while Jake showered and got himself ready, eagerly talking about how the two of you were going to kick Phoenix and Bob's asses in the costume contest that Penny was hosting tonight, and how he was so excited to show you and the belly off and as you checked yourself out in the mirror, you were once again reminded of just how lucky you were to have Jake to love you and the little miracle growing inside of you.
You pushed through Jake cooking himself a quick snack, you even made it through the drive to the bar like a champ, driving his big ass truck all the way there while he lay in the back seat because he refused to take his costume off until after the contest.
You had been at the bar for a couple of hours, mingling with Bob and Phoenix for the most part, who looked adorable in their Buzz and Woody costumes, when you took a turn for the worse. You and the rest of the squad had gotten to the bar quite early to help Penny finish setting up and as it started filling up with other people from base and some of the new TOP GUN students you and Jake had somehow gotten separated and after a while of talking with Phoenix about doing a shopping trip and lunch date on her next day off you started to look around for him.
Jake was at the pool table, high fiving Bradley as he sunk a ball into one of the pockets, very obviously wining the game of pool he had been roped into with the new recruits. You cant help the smile that lights your face when he catches your eye, sending you a signature Jake Seresin smirk and a wink of his eye. You giggle to yourself, your heart feeling full of nothing but love and happiness when it came to him.
"God, you guys are so in love its honestly sickening.." Natasha mutters, rolling her eyes with a playful smile on her face as she sips her whiskey on the rocks. You cackle in laughter, pushing her shoulder gently as you leave her side and make your way over to Jake, you'd had enough of being away from his side for one night.
A couple of people move in front of you as you're walking, and you have to stop and say hello to Maverick, who had arrived stylishly late to the party. "You're glowing!" He had said, giving you a kiss on your cheek. He was honestly in complete awe of you and the affect that you had on Hangman, he had done a complete 360 since you'd gotten together and he couldn't thank you enough for it because he wasn't sure how to handle it some days.
You chat with him for a few moments before making your way to Jake, except when he comes back into your view this time there's someone else with him. A tall bottle blonde in a risqué nurses costume that was honestly probably lingerie, she had fishnet stockings on and mile high platform stripper heels.
She was the kind of girl that had always caught his attention before you.
She was the kind of girl you had always been underlyingly jealous of.
And that jealously came rearing its ugly head. Fists clenched to your sides you walked over to your boyfriend with a purpose, not even catching their conversation before you wrapped your arms around his always so toned and tight bicep that was sticking out of the arm hole of the costume he had spent time making himself.
"Hey Babygirl," He says immediately, turning his head to plant a big fat kiss on your lips, you could practically feel his body relaxing at your touch and that seemed to cause you jealousy to ease, knowing that he was being held hostage in the conversation. "Jessa, this is my Babygirl.." The woman in front of you looked at you with narrowed eyes and then looked down at your costumes, her eyes roaming from your painted pregnant belly to his oven costume and and then back again, it seemed like it took a moment for all of the wheels to turn but they finally clicked into place.
"We dated for a while, not that long ago..just wanted to come over and say hello." She says. "I had heard you were settled down but i didn't think it could possibly be true.." Her eyes never leave his as she speaks, batting her eyelashes at him as if trying to entice him.
Jake raises his beer bottle to his lips, glancing down to you as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well, I hate to break it to you but..its true.." You grind out, your queasy stomach returning as you catch a whiff of her strong perfume. "I'll be right back baby.."
You barely make it to the ladies room all the way across the bar before it spews out of you. You're hunched over the toilet for a good few minutes heaving and queasing and so focused on yourself that you don't hear bathroom door squeak open again, or the stripper heels smacking against the tiled floor that Penny thankfully kept in pristine cleanliness.
You don't notice the other presence in the bathroom until you've stood up and turned around, headed to wash your hands and try to wash the small bit of vomit off of your black shirt. You stop in your tracks immediately when you spot her, arms crossed over her outrageously exposed breasts as she stands with her hip popped, as if she were looking for a fight.
"I always knew he liked easier girls, but i never thought he liked actual whores." She states, eyeing your pregnant belly with clear disdain. "I'm not stupid, i can do basic math. He stopped calling me almost two months ago, way too soon for you to be thus far pregnant with his baby."
"..excuse me?" You utter, mouth watery again as you fought of what you hoped was just nerves and not another round of throwing up..you didn't think you could go 12 rounds today and still make it through the party.
The woman cackles damn near evilly. "The way Jake always spoke about his babygirl I thought she was this pure angel. Turns out she's a fucking whore." She shakes her head, eyeing once more. "You're not his type either, he really must fucking pity you if he's fucking you like this, the poor thing.."
You can't think of anything to say, you could barely hold your head up with how suddenly dizzy you were. As she turns to leave the bathroom, the door swinging open, the vomit spews out of you like lava spewed out of Pompeii and as you sink to the floor, trying to keep your own head up, too dizzy to see straight or use your voice or even think, you couldn't help but to remember the words that she had said..that he must have pittied you..that wasn't true..right?
Natasha noticed Jessa come out of the bathroom that she had seen you go into earlier, and maybe it was just because she was slightly paranoid but she felt like she needed to poke her head in and check on you, especially after she sauntered right back up to Jake and ran her hand down his bicep after you had very clearly made it known that she needed to back off.
"Keep an eye on Jessa," She says to Bob, catching her Wizzo's attention as she slipped off of her bar stool. "I'm gonna go check on Babygirl.." Everyone had taken to calling you by Jake's nickname for you, it was practically your God given name by this point.
"On it." Bob says, taking his Shirley Temple with him as he strides from the bar top to the pool table.
Natasha pushes people out of her way, the wings of her Buzz costume doing all of the work for her as she makes her way to the restrooms, pushing the door opening and entering sideways. She hears your moan before she sees you slumped in a pool of your own throw up, your skin paler than the flourescent lighting in the small bathroom and a small sheen of sweat on your forehead. "Holy sit.." She says, crumbling down next to you, taking your head in her hands. "Babygirl? You awake?" A slight moan is the only response. "Fuck...fuck.."
She doesn't leave your side, but she thanks God for having long legs because she's able to catch the door stopper just right with her foot and open it far enough for her voice to carry. "JAKE! BOB! SOMEBODY HELP!" You moan again, your head thumping to her chest. Her voice must be loud enough because there's a drawn out silence before a scattering of feet pounding against the hardwood flooring of the Hard Deck. "Call 911!"
Jake's heart drops into his stomach as soon as he sees you, his eyes widening. "What happened?" He doesn't bother to care about the emotional crack in his voice as he drops to his knees, Bob and Rooster right behind him in the door way. "Nat, what the fuck happened?"
"I don't know, she was like this when I came in - Jessa had just come out!" She says panicking because she had never once seen Jacob Seresin look so scared and vulnerable before. "She keeps moaning and she's sweaty..Jake what if it's the baby?"
He squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn't bare to think of it, he couldn't bare to think of how sad and broken you would be..he couldn't even begin to think of how to pick up those broken pieces if that were the case, so he didn't think about it. He focused on Bob's voice behind him, on the phone with the 911 operator.
"...17 weeks pregnant, semi conscious.." Bob spoke to the person on the other end, Jake had told them all this morning how far along you were, forcefully showing everyone the pregnancy tracking app on his phone screen. Bob had remembered because of how excited Jake had been.
Jake looked at you, your head in Natasha's lap and then glanced back at Bradley who's eyes were wide with fear, an exact mimic of his own facial expression he was sure. He remembered suddenly that Natasha had said that someone had been in here before she found you..Jessa.
He was on his feet before he had even finished having the thought, shoving past Bradley who had the wherewithal to dutifully follow him as he stalked down the hallway and into the main area of the bar.
"Jessa!" He thundered, the bar going silent. She wasn't hard to find, she was one of the few girls dressed like a hooker. "What the fuck did you do? Huh?" He asks, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.
"Jake, back off man-" Bradley's hand is on his shoulder pulling him back. Jessa scoffs at both of them and rolls her eyes turning around.
"Not my fault the skanky trash can't handle the thing growing inside of her." She says to her group of friends, causing them to start cackling.
She was lucky that Nat hadn't heard her, and that he didn't go crawling back to the bathroom to send her out here to do what he knew she would have because just then flashing lights shined through the front windows of the bar. Paramedics had arrived.
"Oh now that's just fucking dramatic!" She groans to her friends as Jake walks away, causing him to turn back around to start yelling at her once more. Bradley spins him back towards the door though and he runs outside to rush them in.
When you come to you're scared out of your mind, the last thing you remember were the words Jessa had said echoing in your mouth. Your heart starts to race and you hear a monitor start to go off, there were things attached to your stomach and your arms and all of a sudden his hands were on your shoulder, weary eyes looking into yours.
"..jake? what happened?" You ask, your heart already starting to calm down and you realize that the monitor that was going off was attached to you.
"You were dehydrated, you passed out.." Jake says, pressing a kiss to your temple as one hand goes to rest on your stomach, right next to the fetal monitors. "Your OB says that it's from throwing up so much, says that you weren't getting in as much as you were getting out.." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the pillow, kicking yourself for letting it get that bad. "Why didn't you tell me it was that bad babygirl? You scared me shitless..you scared all of us..Nat found you laying in your own vomit..she came with me, wouldn't even go home to change..she's off hounding your doctor for more information.."
You process his words, hating yourself for putting your friend in that situation, for ruining the halloween party. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. "Is the baby okay?" Your lip quivers and tears begin to stream down your face. "Jake im so sorry baby, I thought I could tough it out, I didn't want you to worry.."
Jake sighs, kissing your forehead as he wipes the tears from your eyes, letting you know that the baby was okay, and that you would be okay too. That he was going to take care of you always, and his words washed over you completely, emptying your head of whatever doubt Jessa had temporarily placed in it.
taglist:
@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891
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mafuluzx · 3 months
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Hello hello! Hope youre doing well 🫶. May I request a Cole X M!Reader where they are secretly dating but it's not as subtle as they thought? Like, the team is aware smth is up, just not exactly filled in. So the team try to catch them with each other yadda yadda. Take your time, no rush at all! Put yourself before it, always, dear! 🫶
THANK YOU ANNON I WILL TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!!!! I took way too long with this as always, but at least I managed to write something. But I'm so gosh darn sorry, 'cause I just didn't know where to go with this one. I tried my best, I hope it's at least not bad.🥲
Cole x male reader oneshot!
Takes place after season 7,
In plain sight
Jay had been sitting there for an hour. hands folded with his hair covering his eyes like he was some scary villain thinking of his evil villain plans.
It would have been concerning if it was anyone else. But when it comes to Jay, it wasn't the weirdest thing that he had done. So when Zane had passed by the grab himself some breakfast, he had just spoken with a quick "Good morning, Jay." and continued without paying Jay any mind, and instead sitting across from the blue ninja as he started reading today's news paper.
Lloyd, as the responsible and mature green ninja, had of course woken up first and had eaten a long time ago. That seemed to be the case for Cole and (y/n) as well.
However when Kai (who went to sleep late, but woke up at a pretty average 8 o'clock) arrived for the same purpose as Zane, he couldn't just ignore Jay. After grabbing a bowl and filling it with cereal and milk, he sat next to Jay. He ate a spoonful while staring at the blue ninja. He hadn't moved an inch.
"Jay? You okay buddy?" Jay gave him no answer. Kai blinked, and continued eating. But when he was done, he tried again.
"Is anybody home? Hello!? Jay!?" Kai waved a hand in front of Jay's face, but got no reaction. In the end, the red ninja shrugged, took his now empty bowl and spoon and placed them in the sink before sitting back down next to Jay.
He wasn't really busy, so instead he copied Jay's pose, and just sat quietly. Zane ignored them both.
It wasn't until much later, that Nya woke up. She was the opposite of an early bird. Even if she went to sleep early, she could not wake up early on the weekend.
"...Morning, guys." She said as she walked into the kitchen. Zane returned the greeting, while Kai gave her a silent nod. Jay of course was still silent.
Nya was too tired to even notice, and only gave Jay a good morning kiss, but not getting one in return, did she finally realize something was wrong.
"Kai, what are you two doing?" Nya questioned, snapping to get Jay's attention, but that sadly didn't work.
"No idea. I found him here like this." Kai said, Not moving from the pose he had adopted from the blue ninja.
"That is the case for me as well." Zane answered, placing the news paper neatly down on the table.
"Just splash him with water." A sudden voice spoke up from the doorway. Lloyd, who was passing by the kitchen, had noticed the situation and had stopped to listen in as well.
"Did you say something to him?" Nya asked, one eye brow raised in suspicion. Lloyd only shook his head.
"Heck, no. I haven't spoken to him at all today."
"Then what's wrong with him?!" Kai suddenly broke the pose as he jumped up, pointing at Jay as Lloyd shrugged. In the end, no one got a better idea, and Nya formed a bubble of water on top of Jay's head. And without warning, she dropped it.
Jay jumped up, letting out a shrill scream as he did. He quickly shook his arms and legs violently, trying to get rid of as much water as possible. Kai let out a laugh as Lloyd walked in and took a seat next to the red ninja. Meanwhile Nya sat next to Zane.
"Why would you do that?!" Jay let out a high pitched shout as Nya gave Jay a deadpan expression.
"Jay, you were being all moody just sitting there, nothing else could get your attention."
"Oh, right." Jay let out in 'realization', as he sat back down, even if he was totally drenched.
"Why were you acting like in the first place? Did the Star Farer comics get cancelled or something?" Kai finally asked as silence fell.
Jay didn't say anything, seeming to be deep in though, before the reason hit him like lightning again.
"...You guys will not believe me."
"Did they actually cancel Star Farer or something?!" Lloyd let out in horror as Jay let out a scoff.
"Of course not! It was Cole and (y/n)!" Jay shouted as the others all looked at him with questioning looks.
"Cole and (y/n) what? Did they try to cancel Star Farer-?" The second question was barely out of Kai's mouth before Jay smacked him in to back of his head.
"Star Farer isn't getting cancelled! I saw Cole and (y/n) here this morning. They were kissing."
"What about it? I kiss my mom good morning sometimes-" Lloyd was cut off as Jay slammed his palm on the table.
"No! They were right there, kissing, on the lips, romantically." Now the others were completely silent.
"...You sure?" Kai asked after a bit. Jay nodded to him vigorously before continuing.
"Yes! This morning, right when I was about to walk in, I saw them kissing right there!" Right there presumably being the place Jay was pointing to, which was in front of the kitchen counter.
"...You really sure?" Kai questioned one more time as Jay let out a frustrated yell.
"YES!"
"Wanna bet on it?" Kai cockily added, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Sure! I put today's lunch on the line!" Jay came back at him with a scowl and an annoyed tone.
"Deal! Whoever loses buys everyone lunch!" As Kai agreed to Jay's terms, Jay jumped up from his seat.
"I'll prove it to you all right now! Let's go!" Jay ran out of the kitchen, leaving the others to look between each other in confusion, before abandoning their breakfasts and running after the blue ninja.
"Look, look!" Jay whispered out as he arrived in the monastery yard. (y/n) and Cole were putting up laundry together, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still the team kept their eyes sharp as they observed. It was too bad they couldn't hear their conversation.
But nothing seemed to be happening at all anyway.
"You owe us one lunch, mate." Kai deadpanned as Jay whipped his head at him.
"Don't call me 'mate', Kai!" Jay whispered with a tone of annoyance, when Zane suddenly tapped on Jay's shoulder.
"Is that what you were talking about?" The white ninja spoke, turning his hand towards (y/n) and Cole.
The rest of the team all turned back towards the scene when their jaws dropped. Cole and (y/n) were basically glued together, grinning and laughing about something while holding onto each other lovingly, even sharing a short kiss. But before the team could observe the sight any better, Jay let out a shout.
"THAT'S IT!!!" The sudden shout alerted the two ninja, and in no more than a second, had (y/n) already pushed Cole away.
The (f/c) ninja grabbed a laundry basket from the ground, shoved it in Cole's hands, and rushed away without saying anything.
Cole was left standing by the laundry line, dumbfounded until he spotted Jay and the others from the corner of his eye.
The black ninja looked annoyed, but he masked it with a greeting and a smile.
"Kai..." Nya started in a whisper, as Kai let out a long sigh before speaking up again:
"I know, I know... I owe you guys lunch."
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slayfics · 10 months
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Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.
Chapter four: You study with Katsuki.
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With the completion of the internships, the end-of-term tests were coming up. You sat at your desk studying but couldn't help but wonder how your classmates were doing.
Everyone had gone into a frenzy in class about meeting up to study and being prepared. Multiple students had planned to go over to Momo's since she was at the top of the class. But since you weren't explicitly invited, you didn't want to show up. You still hadn't really connected too much with your other classmates.
You also overheard Eijiro and Katsuki make plans to study at a diner today. Fuck it I'll show up there, you thought. Katsuki did kind of owe you for fixing his hair anyway. Worst case if they seemed super irritated by it you could play it off as if you were just going to that diner regardless. That seemed a lot easier than randomly showing up at Momo's house considering you hadn't even spoken to her much yet.
You made your way over to the diner and almost as soon as you entered you were greeted with an overly enthusiastic "Hey!" that made you jump.
Eijiro had spotted you right away and waved at you to come over. Katsuki turned around with his usual annoyed expression to see who Eijiro had so openly invited to their table.
"Oh it's you," Katsuki mumbled.
"Hey, how's the studying going?" You asked, making your way over to their table.
"Uh, not so good," Eijiro laughed. "Bakugo's trying his best but I think I'm hopeless. Sit down and join us!" He said, smiling at you.
You reluctantly sat down next to Eijiro feeling a bit anxious. Aside from the times Katuski had snuck into your room, this was the first time you had spent outside of the classroom with any of your classmates.
"I'm kind of surprised you're not at Yaoyorozu's with everyone else," Eijiro stated.
"I wasn't really invited, and I didn't want to just invite myself like everyone else," You replied.
"You had no problem inviting yourself here," Katsuki said, looking up at you from his book.
You felt frozen, guess you didn't pull off pretending to just accidentally come to the same diner.
"Ah don't be so mean Bakugo, maybe they can help me. I know you are at your wits end with me," Eijiro said, laughing.
"Yeah whatever," Katsuki grumbled.
"Now that I think about it, I guess I really haven't seen you hang out with the others much," Eijiro stated curiously.
You're face flushed at his words, was it really that obvious that you hadn't befriended anyone in your class? "I uh.. well..." You stuttered trying to figure out how to answer him.
"Hey dumb ass, are you going to chat their ear off all day or are we going to study?" Katsuki barked at him.
"Right! Let's get back to it then," Eijiro said, focusing back on his book.
The three of you studied for almost the whole day. It surprised you to see how intelligent Katsuki was, his delivery was always harsh though. He'd get frustrated easily when Eijiro couldn't pick up on something right away, but you were able to explain in a calmer manner and that seemed to help.
Although, it did still take Eijiro an extended amount of time to fully understand concepts. With the sun going down you three decided it was time to finish up.
"Wow, ok I feel prepared for the written test now! I'm just worried about the test exercises," Eijiro said.
"It'll be fine shitty hair, you worry too much. You'll both do fine, and I’ll finally be able to show everyone how worthless that nerd Deku is and how much better I am than that Icyhot bastard," Katsuki replied.
You sighed, “Bakugo I already told you- I’m pretty sure everyone knows you would have beat Todoroki regardless of him using both sides or not.”
“Hm?” Eijiro looked at you both curiously. “Told him before? You two have hung out before?” He asked.
Your face flushed at Eijiro’s correct assumption and you weren’t sure how to respond. It seemed a little suspicious to say the truth- that Katsuki had snuck into your room three times now.
“Don’t be so nosy dumb ass,” Katsuki grumbled at him.
“Oh right-! Sorry! Anyway… Maybe the test exercise will be a team exercise and we'll get paired together or something! After today I'd say the three of us make a good team," Eijiro said smiling.
You smiled back at him unsure of how to respond to so much positivity. Katsuki just rolled his eyes at Eijrio.
It was striking how night and day it was between Eijiro's cheery demeanor and Katsuki's quick temper.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @anon-mouse223
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