#literally laughed out loud reading the message | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrizzandpia · 5 months

Note

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

2K notes · View notes

won4kiss · 2 months

Text

𖠵 . ׅ ࣪ ⌇𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑆𝑈𝑁𝐺𝐻𝑂𝑂𝑁 !

ᯓ 𝜗𝜚 ℰx bf! 𝓅ark 𝓈unghoon x 𝑓! reader 𝒢enre angst to fluff 𝓢ynopsis in which your boyfriend who moved away without a word comes back ! 𝑤𝑐 𐙚ㅤㅤ 2518 ⸝⸝ not proof read swearing misogyny petnames kissing ୭ৎ — 𝓁ibrar𝓎 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ PLEASE LIKE & REBLOG ! ໒꒰ྀི ≧ ᗜ ≦ ꒱ྀིა

THE HALLWAYS OF YOUR HIGHSCHOOL WERE ALWAYS OVERCROWDED AND LOUD BUSTLING WITH ENERGY AND THE STUDENTS,

but you and sunghoon managed to carve out your own little world amidst the chaos.

he was the pride of the school, star athlete and heartthrob, always at the center of attention, yet he only had eyes for you.

your relationship was the cause of envy for many – a love story quite literally straight out of a fairy tale.

you remember the first time he asked you out, how could you ever forget? it was during a study session in the library, right before the exams, his face turning a bright red as if he were a tomato!

he stammered out the words. you had laughed, thinking it was a joke, but the determined look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

and from that moment, you were inseparable, but little did you know what was yet to come. — more under cut !

your dates were simple, yet memorable.

park sunghoon came from a rich family, and you had grown up very differently.

while he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, you grew up quite the opposite, with absent parents and older siblings who quickly left home when the chance came.

but to your surprise, he wasn’t bratty or spoiled, he wasn’t disgusted with your lifestyle or class.

instead, he learned the ways of how you live your life.

to you park sunghoon was the most humble man you had met. he didn’t take you out to five-star michelin restaurants, instead your dates consisted of being sat in his bmw in the mcdonald’s drive through, munching on greasy fries and cheese burgers.

everything was absolutely perfect.

late-night walks in the park, holding hands under the glowing stars, shared popsicle sticks that melted too quickly in the summer heat – each moment was perfect.

sunghoon had a way of making even the most basic activities feel special.

he would leave little notes in your locker, filled with sweet messages that brightened your day. your friends had teased you endlessly, you never heard the end of it, but you didn't mind; you were in love.

during lunch breaks, you would sit together under the big oak tree in the school courtyard, talking about your dreams and plans for the future.

sunghoon wanted to become a professional athlete, while you dreamed of pursuing a career in business.

the thought of being apart after high school absolutely terrified you both, but you promised each other that nothing could come between you.

if you had to choose one, your favourite memory with park sunghoon was the night of the school dance.

sunghoon showed up at your house, looking stunning in his suit, a shy smile on his face as he handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

the two of you danced the night away, lost in each other's arms, the rest of the world fading into the background.

as the evening came to an end, he walked you home, his hand never leaving yours.

under the soft glow of the streetlights, he kissed you, a sweet promise of forever.

as graduation approached soon after, you noticed a big change in sunghoon.

he became distant, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a somber and dull mood.

you tried to talk to him, of course you did, you tried your best to understand what was wrong, but he brushed off your concerns with forced smiles and vague reassurances.

you wanted to believe him, to trust that everything was fine, but the nagging feeling in your gut told you otherwise.

the day of graduation was supposed to be one of celebration, a celebration of years of hard work and shared dreams.

unfortunately for you, it became a day of complete and utter heartbreak.

you stood in your cap and gown, searching the crowd for sunghoon, but he was nowhere to be found.

panic set in as you tried calling him, each unanswered ring amplifying your fear.

you sent texts, pleading for an explanation, pleading for him to show up, but the silence was deafening.

you went to his house, but it was completely empty, a 'for sale' sign planted in the front yard.

the reality hit you like a ton of bricks – sunghoon was gone, without a word, without a goodbye, as if you were nothing to him, as if you were some summer fling.

your friends gathered around you, offering comfort, but their words did little to ease the pain that soared through you.

you spent the entire night staring at your phone, you were supposed to be out with your friends, with sunghoon, partying, celebrating the milestone and the survival of high-school.

instead it was spent hoping, praying for a message that never came.

days turned into weeks, and the reality set in – park sunghoon was gone, leaving you with a shattered heart and countless questions.

FIVE YEARS LATER.

the terrorizing buzzing of your alarm clock pulled you awake from a restless sleep.

you groaned, rolling over to hit the snooze button once again, but the persistent ringing reminded you of the long day ahead.

with a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the weariness and dread clinging to your bones.

after quickly dressing into your usual work attire – a simple blouse and skirt – you hurried to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.

the coffee machine sputtered and groaned, mirroring your own exhaustion. you burned your toast and spilled coffee on your shirt,

“are you fucking kidding me?” cursing under your breath as you hurriedly changed into another blouse.

the commute to work was no better. the bus was packed, leaving you standing and yearning for space, the claustrophobia clawing at you.

when you finally arrived at the office, you were already running late. mr. choi, your boss, was waiting for you at the entrance, his expression a mix of irritation and disdain.

"late again, i see," he sneered, his eyes narrowing.

"this is becoming a habit, and i don't tolerate incompetence in my employees."

“this is why females should stick to cooking..” he muttered under his breath as you looked down, squeezing your eyes shut.

mr. choi was the most misogynistic and sexist man you had ever met, but if you wanted to keep this job, no— you needed this job, if you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to take it.

even if it costed you your very own dignity.

you mumbled an apology, your cheeks burning with embarrassment with the stares of the other staff as you hurried to your desk.

the day dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. mr. choi's constant demands and demeaning comments wore you down, but you pushed through, finding comfort in the support of your colleagues.

jake, your coworker, noticed your foul mood and tried to cheer you up.

"rough morning, y/nie" he asked, his tone overflowing with aegyo as he handed you a cup of tea.

"that's an understatement, and never do that in front of me again, jake sim!"

“why though! am i not cute enough for you?”

“you’re not cute, period.” you sighed, although that interaction had mixed up your insides in distaste, you were grateful for his kindness and determination to cheer you up.

jake was a light of positivity in the otherwise toxic environment of your workplace.

he often went out of his way to help you, making the long hours much more bearable.

despite the occasional office rumors, your relationship with jake was purely platonic, built on mutual respect, twisted humour and shared struggles.

around midday, to your dismay, mr. choi called you into his office.

"we have a very important client meeting today," he barked.

"i need you to serve tea like a noble lady and make sure everything goes smoothly. do not mess this up, you hear me?"

“yes, sir…”

nodding, you quickly ran to the staff room and prepared the tea, balancing the tray carefully as you approached the office door.

taking a deep breath, you knocked and entered, your eyes fixed on the floor.

"tea is served, sir," you announced, your voice steady despite the nerves of anxiety and nausea.

as you placed the tray on the table, a familiar voice made your heart stop.

"thank you so much," the voice said, and you looked up, your breath catching in your throat.

sitting across from mr. choi the last person you had ever expected.

it was park sunghoon, his presence a jabbing reminder of the unfateful past you had tried so hard to forget.

the shock was too much for you to handle.

your hands trembled, and the tray slipped, sending hot coffee spilling onto your lap. you gasped in pain, the burning liquid soaking through your clothes.

“y/n— are you okay?” sunghoon screeched as he stood up with worry, pacing towards you.

unfortunately for you, mr. choi's face turned red with anger.

"you clumsy fucking idiot!" he shouted.

"do you have any idea what you've done? you're a disgrace!"

“i warned you, bitch—“

sunghoon stood up abruptly, his eyes filled with anger and concern.

"that's enough, mr. kim" he said, his voice firm.

“mr. park, it’s ’mr. choi! c-h-o—“ he nervously uttered before sunghoon had cut him off.

"i absolutely won't be working with someone who treats their employees this way." he turned to you, his expression softening.

"come on, let's get you out of here."

you tried to resist his grip, the emotions of seeing your first love who disappeared on you after many years overwhelming you.

"let go of me, sunghoon! you have no right to even look my way after what you did!"

ignoring your protests, sunghoon led you to a storage room, closing the door behind you.

he stared at you for a good fifteen seconds before he pulled you into a hug, his arms strong and reassuring, even comforting after all these years, and that angered you.

"are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

"i'm fine," you said, though your voice wavered with the weight of your anger.

“y/n, you’re not fine—“

“yes i am, i’ll be leaving now.” you said firmly walking towards the exit as sunghoon softly gripped your arm, his touch begging you to stay.

“please y/n, wait—“

"want me to stay? then i need to know why you left without saying anything. you owe me that much."

sunghoon sighed as he pushed his hair back, his eyes filled with an ocean of regret.

"my family moved overseas suddenly, you know how they are— they refused to let me stay behind and i didn't know how to tell you. i thought it would be easier if i just disappeared, that you would move on without me holding you back. it was a mistake, and i've regretted it every day since."

he looked at you with a glimmer of something you couldn’t quite place, he sighed at your dumbfounded state and walked a step closer to you— his hand reaching out to caress your face before he hesitated, pulling them back to his side.

“i was eighteen and a fucking clueless idiot, y/n. you have every right to hate me, i’m so sorry.”

his words stirred up a mix of emotions – anger, sadness, but also a glimmer of nostalgia.

and it hit you— this was sunghoon standing right in front of you, your sunghoon.

"you should have trusted me, sunghoon" you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

"i needed you, sunghoon. you broke my heart, you shattered it and left me with nothing."

"i know," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"i tried to reach out, to find you, but when i saw that post on your account of you with your husband, jake sim was it? and the kids, i knew it was wrong. you had moved on, you have a family."

you shook your head in confusion, the misunderstanding almost laughable if it weren't so tragic.

"jake is just a friend, and those kids were part of a charity event. you should have reached out and asked anyway.."

sunghoon's shoulders fell with relief and shame.

"i'm so sorry. i was an idiot, and i hurt you. i know this is sudden and i don’t even have any right saying this— but i never stopped loving you, not for a moment. please, give me another chance. let me make it up to you."

you hesitated, the pain of the past still fresh in your mind as if it had all occurred yesterday.

"it's hard, sunghoon. you hurt me deeply, and it's not easy to just forget that."

he took your hand, the sudden feeling bringing you a wave of nostalgia, his eyes pleading.

"i know it's a lot to ask, trust me baby i know—but i promise i'll do everything i can to make it right. i still love you, more than anything. please, let me prove it to you."

seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing the old affectionate petname he had for you, you felt your resolve weakening.

"fine… one last chance, sunghoon. but you can't mess up. i can't go through that pain ever again."

a tear rolled down his cheek as he nodded with a grin— as if he had been told he had won the lottery (as if he wasn’t rich already...).

"thank you. i promise you with my whole heart and soul, i won't let you down." he leaned in, shyly pecking your cheek before taking your hand.

the gesture was so familiar, so comforting, that you couldn't help but smile.

just then, the door creaked open, and your best friend, who now worked with you, peeked in.

"everything okay in here, y/n?—" she asked before gasping, her eyes widening when she saw sunghoon.

a knowing smirk spread across her face.

"well, well, look who it is! i always knew you were gonna come back at some point, you were way too down bad to ever get over her.."

you and sunghoon laughed, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere.

it felt like a new beginning, a chance to rebuild what was lost, to make up for the time could’ve been spent in each other’s embrace.

“well.. we should probably leave, don’t you think?—“ you cut sunghoon off with a quick, soft kiss before running out of the room with pink flushed cheeks and a heavy heart.

“hey— you can’t just do that and expect me to be okay!” he yelled before catching up to you with a soft grin.

of course, with the lovesick look in his eyes which he always carried for you.

holding sunghoon's hand, you walked out of the storage room together, and you knew in that moment that everything would be okay— because it was your sunghoon.

taglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @suneng @pnghoon @nshmuras @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism

405 notes · View notes

sunsburns · 3 months

Text

naked in manhattan

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader / implied art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’re just hours away from a flight that will change your career forever—one that will take you to london, england, for the 2012 olympics, a milestone you never thought you’d reach. thrilled yet trembling with nerves, you find yourself at the hotel bar, celebrating alone. it does not help when you run into art donaldson and… his wife?

—or: you and tashi rekindle an old flame

word count: 6.9k

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, semi-public sex (a gym at the middle of the night so idk if that counts), mid-challengers movie (a year after the atlanta scene with tashi and patrick), angst with no comfort, fingering, homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, no use of y/n, old situationship best described in terms of “casual” by chappell roan (iykyk), art is lowkey a shit starter

author’s note: so i finished this a while back and added it to my queue and did not realize i put it for july instead of june so LOL MY BAD. this is kinda like a prequel to “good luck, babe!” but you don't need to read that to get this. alsoooo thank you for all the love and feedback in “good luck, babe!” i’ve read every single message and tried to reply to all of them! you guys are so sweet and inspired me to write more! thank you thank you <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

Manhattan, New York City, 2012

"I hope you're planning on getting laid tonight."

Your drink is cold, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as you swirl the straw absentmindedly. The dim lighting of the hotel bar casts a warm, golden glow over everything, making the polished wood of the bar counter gleam. Around you, the murmur of conversations, bursts of laughter, and the occasional clinking of glasses create a lively yet intimate ambiance. You glance at the TV mounted in the corner, where a muted sports channel displays highlights from a basketball game.

You try not to snort into your drink at the words of Patrick Zweig on the other end of the call. You push your phone closer to your ear, unable to bite back the grin spreading across your face.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"What?" Patrick's tone is mockingly innocent, full of playful mischief.

"I thought you called to say something a little more... I don't know, sincere? Heartwarming?"

He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh that you can practically feel through the phone. In the background, you hear the faint sounds of a city—honking cars, distant chatter, and the occasional bark of a dog. The noise fades slightly as Patrick likely moves to a quieter spot, and you can almost picture him getting in his car in some other state—you think he's in Arizona.

"The only kind of warming I wanna hear about is cockwarming," he retorts, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

You make a face, "You're disgusting."

"I mean it," he insists, still laughing. "I'm actually so jealous of you right now. You qualified for the Olympics, for fuck's sake! How's your mom doing? Did she have a heart attack? Did she call you already? I hope she packed you some condoms. There's gonna be such a wide variety. Literally every country in the world."

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick."

Your mother did call, her voice crackling with emotion over the phone just before Patrick rang you. She told you how proud she is of you, how she can't wait to watch you play and tell everyone she knows that her daughter is an Olympic tennis player. A gold medalist, maybe.

Her words echo in your mind, filling you with a warmth that battles the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

You take a sip of your drink, savouring the blend of fruity and bitter flavours, a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts. You try not to spill it on your Ralph Lauren sweater, custom-made, just for the Olympics, with your name stitched on the arm.

Around you, the hotel bar is alive with the buzz of other athletes celebrating with their teams. The fellowship is appreciable as laughter and cheers fill the air. But for some single athletes, like yourself, it's a different story. You feel as if you're in high school all over again, too awkward to make friends, hoping someone braver than you will come by and say hello first.

"You better not be sitting at the bar alone, drinking that orange juice you like."

"A sangria isn't just juice, you dick," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"You're such a loser."

You do feel a little bit like a loser, sitting alone at the bar, but you know you shouldn't. You're hours away from your flight to London where you'll have the chance to play tennis in the Olympics. This is all you've ever wanted since you were a child, all you've been working for—sweat, blood, and tears. You can't even remember a time when you've dreamt of something other than this.

Tennis has always been your escape, your sanctuary. You remember those early days when you played with second-hand rackets and makeshift nets, the local court becoming your second home.

And then there was Patrick, your closest… friend(?) and fiercest rival. His encouragement, his competition, and his company kept you grounded and motivated. When the going got tough, the dream felt too distant, and all of it made you feel far too guilty as if you had stolen someone else's life, Patrick was there to reassure you that you deserved it just as much as the next. Without him, you likely would have walked away from the sport you love.

"I can't believe you made it to the Olympics before me," Patrick's voice pulls you back to the present, a mix of envy and pride lacing his words. You can almost see the playful smirk on his face, a familiar expression that often surfaced during your countless matches together.

"I wish you were here, Pat." Your voice softens, the longing evident. It was hard to track down Patrick Zweig, especially while he was constantly on the move, hopping from state to state, playing as many challengers as he could sign up for, each match a stepping stone toward his dream of winning the US Open. And you think he will. You've played against him enough times to know he's better than you at hitting a ball with a racket.

There were nights when you'd both crash in a shabby motel or back at your place after a gruelling day on the court, strategizing and critiquing each other's play styles (sometimes in more than just tennis). His tenacity was a beacon for you, pushing you to strive harder and to reach further.

His voice softens, becoming more earnest. "Yeah, me too. I'll try to get tickets for one of your games in London. If not, I'll catch up with your mom and watch it with her. Is your dad still in the picture?"

You roll your eyes, a reflex to his familiar teasing. "Oh, my god."

"I'm just asking," he chuckles. "Listen, I'm gonna let you go, 'cause I've got a date tonight. But call me when you land."

"Oh, yeah, okay." You try not to let the disappointment seep into your voice, but it's hard. It's not like you and Patrick were together, at least not publicly, at least not in the sense that you couldn't see other people. But even as you tell yourself that, a knot tightens in your chest.

It feels a bit teenageish, you think, messing around with friends and acting like it means nothing just to avoid making things awkward. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were leaving something unsaid, something unacknowledged. Patrick was one of the few people in your life who kept you on your toes and made you feel good—truly good.

Now, the idea of him with someone else, going on dates while you chase your dreams, feels like a betrayal you can't quite articulate. But what right do you have to feel that way? You never made things official, never dared to cross that line.

You never bothered to search for love outside of tennis.

"Have fun on your date," you manage to say. It comes out more brittle than you'd hoped. "Talk to you later."

"Bye!" he says, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart. His voice is light and carefree, and why wouldn't it be?

You end the call and set your phone down on the bar with a bit more force than intended, the hollow thud echoing your frustration. The bartender glances your way and you try to flash him an honest smile before ordering another drink. The TV overhead flickers, switching from basketball highlights to a recap of the latest tennis matches. You watch the screen without really seeing it.

The bar is still lively, yet you feel an overwhelming sense of solitude. You can't help but feel like you're stuck in limbo—caught between your dreams and the reality of your personal life.

You take a deep breath and a long sip of the rest of your first drink, the cool liquid doing little to ease the heat of frustration building inside you. You tell yourself you should be happy, grateful even. But right now, all you can think about is Patrick, and how much easier it would be if he were here with you.

But he's not. And maybe he never will be.

Maybe no one will.

Maybe you will die alone, your tennis racket as your only companion.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

You turn, startled, "No-" you start, but then the blur of blonde hair comes to focus and you're stumbling over your words, "Art? What- what are you doing here?"

"Oh," he smiles, a shy faint red blush already growing on his pale skin. He sits beside you, almost hesitantly, "Just stopping by the city. I saw you and thought I'd say hi."

"Hi." You return his smile, albeit a bit warily.

It's been years since you last spoke to Art properly, though your paths have crossed a few times. You've seen him in magazines, TV, and brief passings usually at major tournaments—Wimbledon, the Australian Open, the US Open. Each time, there were shy smiles and waves from across the room, lingering eyes, and awkward conversations where mutual friends tried to reintroduce you as if you hadn't once known each other

Art looks different every time you see him. His hair, now a little shorter than you remember, still maintains that boyish shagginess. There's a darker tan on his skin, evidence of his time spent under the sun. Some days he has a brighter smile, other days, it's a smile that never reaches his eyes.

As he sits there, you can't help but think of how golden his hair used to look whenever he wore his old Stanford hat, the one he used to pull low over his eyes during your college days. The memory makes you aware that you're staring, maybe a little too long. But he's looking at you too, his blue eyes trailing from one end of your face to the other, as if trying to memorize it all, capturing a photograph of who you are now.

A warmth spreads through you under his gaze, and when he finally looks away, you turn too, tapping at your empty glass, pretending to seem interested in the way the ice has started to melt.

But your eyes betray you, slowly trailing back to him. You watch the way he sits, the way he calls over the bartender and orders himself a glass of water. You try not to notice the deep timbre his voice has gained over the years, and how it resonates in the noisy bar. He looks at you, then the empty seat on your other side, and finally scans the room anxiously, as if he's searching for someone or something.

"He's not here," you finally say, breaking the silence that has grown too heavy. "If that's what you're wondering."

He nods, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. "What city is he in now?"

"Vegas, I think."

He makes a face and rests his chin on his hand. "There's no challengers in Vegas this month."

"Then he's just visiting. I don't know." The truth is, you don't want to talk about Patrick right now. Especially not with Art. Not after the way they ended things. You watch Art shrug, and the bartender sets your drink in front of you. You take a grateful sip, savouring the blend of flavours. Art holds his glass carefully, and the two of you sit in strained silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background.

You can't help but ask, "What are you doing here? In Manhattan?"

"I have an interview tomorrow. For the New York Times," Art says, leaning back slightly. He seems a little surprised as if he expected you to sit there without acknowledging him for the whole night. It makes you wonder what he thinks of you. "They're doing a piece on my career, the highs, the lows... the beginning and stuff."

You study his face, trying to gauge his emotions. You know what it's like to be interviewed, to have a team of people making you look your best for photos and another team crafting answers to help you maintain your reputation. It’s exhausting and thrilling all at once. "Congrats, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you. If anything, I should be congratulating you. Olympics? That's huge..." He continues talking, his lips moving, but you’re barely registering the words. For the first time that night, he seems genuinely enthusiastic, a faint spark in his eyes as he talks about you, about London, gesturing with his hand in excitement.

That's when you notice it. The gold around his finger. It glimmers under the warm lights of the bar, catching your eye like a beacon. You can't stop staring at it even after he's done talking.

"Oh, yeah. It's great." The words feel hollow as they leave your mouth. You struggle to find the right response, not wanting to be rude. "You're married?"

His face falls, and he looks down at his hand resting on his lap. "Oh, yeah, yeah. We, uh..." He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting up to meet yours briefly before looking away. He seems nervous, like he's bracing for your reaction, worried to tell you, as if you weren’t supposed to know at all. "We got married last year. We kept pushing the date for a while because we were... we were busy... and stuff just kept getting in the way."

"We...?"

"Tashi."

"Tashi," you echo, the name tasting foreign and bitter on your tongue. "You're married? You married each other?"

He nods, "Yeah, we've been engaged for a few years now. You haven't heard?"

You feel a lump form in your throat. "No, uh. My coach tries to keep me away from certain news... my mom suggested it. So I don't get uh, distracted."

This is exactly the kind of situation your team has been trying to avoid.

The reality of his words sinks in, and you feel a sharp pang of something—loss, regret, maybe even jealousy. The air around you feels thicker and harder to breathe. Each word he says feels like another brick being laid on your chest, pressing down, making it harder to stay composed.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You force a smile, but it's a fragile thing, threatening to shatter at any moment. "That's... that's great, Art. I'm happy for you. Really. How was... how was the wedding?" Your mind races with thoughts of broken promises and missed opportunities. You imagine Tashi in her wedding dress; you know she looked beautiful. The image stabs at you, and you wince.

"It was beautiful. Both our families came in, and we kept it traditional, in a church. It was..." He pauses, watching you before adding, "It was a small ceremony. Private. Just family."

His words twist the knife deeper. Tashi's family used to see you as such. "No, yeah, I get it. Wouldn't want any trouble at the wedding. I'm happy for you. I'm happy for the both of you." You turn to the bartender, desperate to keep your voice steady. "Hey, can I get another drink? Something stronger?"

Patrick was right; your stupid orange juice won't get you through the night.

Art watches you with concern, his brow furrowing. "How many of those have you had?"

You laugh, but it sounds hollow even to your ears. "Not enough."

"Does your coach know you're drinking?"

"Does yours know you're talking to me?"

Art leans back, his posture stiffening. He turns to his drink, the ice clinking softly against the glass as he takes another sip. The silence that follows is thick and uncomfortable. You watch as he processes your words, his expression shifting from defensiveness to something more pained. You instantly feel a pang of guilt, realizing you've struck a nerve.

You've heard all about Tashi's coaching with Art. Whispers in the locker rooms during tournaments, hushed conversations about how she's pushing him until he cracks. You never wanted to believe it, never wanted to think that Tashi, of all people, would be the one to break him down.

"She calls you Ace, you know."

You make a face at the name. A journalist had written an article about you a few years ago when you won your first US Open, nicknaming you Ace since your serves were almost impossible to hit. The nickname stuck, plastered across headlines, magazine covers, and merchandise. People even bet on you becoming the youngest tennis player with the most aces in history before the season ended. You were only off by a dozen.

"Does she?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, unaffected.

"You do have a killer serve."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Killer." The word feels bitter on your tongue. "Tashi used to hit those back at me like it was nothing."

Art nods, taking another sip of his drink before pausing to look at you. "Only 'cause she knows you."

"Knew," you correct him.

The silence stretches again, heavier this time. You're about to say something, anything to break it, when Art speaks again, his voice softer, more earnest.

"I miss you."

What. The. Fuck.

"I do," he insists, leaning forward, his eyes searching yours. "I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing with you. Watching your games live and not recorded on my TV."

"Art, c'mon." You feel the dread crawling up your throat, wishing you had left the bar sooner. Every word he says seems to pull you deeper into a past you've been trying to escape. Art has done nothing but throw you off your game all night.

"I miss you outside of tennis, too," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I miss our late-night walks, studying in the library. You remember those?"

"Of course I do."

"Tashi misses you, too," he says, and you can tell he's crossing a line, testing your patience. You can feel the corner of your mouth twitch, your eyes unable to meet his. "She tells me every night. She's always keeping up with your stats, watching all of your games, rewatching your old ones. She makes notes for you, how you could improve. She wants to coach you."

"Art, stop it," you finally snap, turning to face him. The night feels ruined, any semblance of peace shattered. Was this all some elaborate scheme against you? After all these years, is this how they repay you? Out of spite? Is that what it is, a way to get back at you because you somehow got it all, and Tashi's taking whatever she can scrape off from Art?

"I don't want her to coach me. And I highly doubt she wants to coach me either."

"I booked the hotel," he says suddenly, his voice softer, more sincere. "She doesn't know you're here. And I really think it will be good for you two to talk." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, placing it carefully on the bar in front of you. "Here's our room number. I'll be out tonight with some friends, so the room is yours till late. Just, don't kill each other or break anything if you fight."

"I'm not going—"

"She really does miss you," he interrupts, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you might understand, might relent.

You stare at the piece of paper, feeling its presence like a burning brand. Art stands up, hesitating for a moment as if he wants to say more but thinks better of it. "I mean it. Think about it," he murmurs before turning and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the hollow space of your mind.

You watch him go, each step he takes pulling at the threads of your carefully constructed facade. As he nears the entrance, your eyes follow him instinctively, and that's when you see her. Tashi. She's standing there, with her bags looking around with a familiar intensity, her eyes scanning the room until they lock onto yours.

You feel sick.

Meeting Art was a pleasant surprise; he makes your heart race and your cheeks burn. But Tashi makes your heart stop and your brain shut off.

She looks different—older, more mature, hair straight and cut to a mid-length but also a lighter colour—but still heartbreakingly familiar. Her eyes widen slightly as she recognizes you.

She opens her mouth as if to say something when Art stands next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple, but no words come out.

Your heart hammers in your chest.

The weight of her gaze is too much. You're the first to look away. You stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over your drink in the process. "Excuse me," you mutter to the bartender, slapping a couple of bucks on the counter. Your voice feels distant, and detached, as if it belongs to someone else.

You push through the crowd, your mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. You need air. You need space.

As you reach the elevator, you can feel Tashi's eyes still on you. But you keep moving, your footsteps quickening with each step. You need to focus on tennis. That's the only thing that's never let you down.

Tashi had once picked tennis over you, and now it was your turn to do the same.

You reach your room and close the door behind you, leaning against it as you finally let out the breath you've been holding. The walls seem to close in on you, and you slide down to the floor.

You need to remember why you're here. For the game. For the dream. And that has to be enough.

Only one problem.

You can't sleep.

Hours later, you find yourself in the hotel gym, the quiet hum of the machines the only sound in the stillness of the night. Your mind is racing, a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions you can't control. Desperate for an outlet, you hop on a treadmill and start running, hoping to exhaust yourself into some semblance of peace.

Anything is better than sitting in the hotel lobby, scouring the internet on the public computer for any proof of Art and Tashi's marriage while drinking wine straight from the bottle.

Art was right, it was a small wedding. There were almost no photos of it caught by the paparazzi, only articles upon articles talking about it, magazine covers and everything. God, how could you have missed this? How out of the loop were you?

There was only one photo posted, and it was from Tashi's Facebook and Instagram from less than a year ago; a picture of just her hand holding onto Art's, where you can see her wedding ring. There was no caption. But the photo had millions of likes.

You wonder if Patrick knew. He probably did. He stalks her account religiously and only recently started to tone it down. And then there's you, who had her blocked on everything since your last argument.

The music playing in your ears drowns out the world around you, a heavy beat pulsing as you hum along. Your eyes fixate on the rising numbers on the treadmill screen, sometimes glancing out the window at the city skyline, other times catching your silhouette in the glass reflection.

Sweat makes your clothes cling to you like a second skin, rolling down your spine in rivulets. You're still a little tipsy from your drinks, the taste lingering in your cheeks, but you think you're sober enough that a few more miles will drain it all out.

Art's words are burned into your mind. The wedding you were never invited to, how he suddenly wants to be friends again. You can see where he's coming from; tennis is lonely. You're lonely. You press the button to go faster, your legs burning as you push yourself harder, trying to escape the thoughts that chase you.

You don't hear the door click open, and it takes a few seconds for you to spot the reflection of someone walking behind you in the window's reflection, rolling out a pink yoga mat. But they don't step onto it, they don't move, and even worse, you catch their eye in the reflection.

Fuck.

It's Tashi Duncan.

Your heart lurches in your chest. You quickly look away, panic setting in. You turn your music up higher and make the treadmill run faster, the machine whirring louder in response. Your pulse races, not just from the exertion, but from the presence of the one person you can't bear to face right now.

In the corner of your eye, you see her approach you. When you hear her call out your name between songs, you pretend you can't hear her. You pretend to be captivated by the sight of the city at night, pretend that you're lost in the music as P!nk's voice blares into your ears, cursing out one of her old lovers.

You wonder how long you can keep the act up.

Tashi moves with a determination that you've always admired and feared. She walks around your treadmill, eyes locked onto you with a fierce intensity. Without hesitation, she reaches down and unplugs the machine from the wall, forcing it to power down abruptly.

Not long enough.

"What the fuck?" You huff, yanking out your earbuds. "What's your fucking problem?"

"You're my problem," she says, her voice steady, unyielding as she rolls her eyes.

"I haven't said a word to you."

"And that's my problem. I'm talking to you," Her gaze bores into yours, refusing to be ignored. You can see the resolve in her eyes, the same decisiveness that made her a force to be reckoned with on the court.

"I'm busy," you snap, and your breath comes in ragged gasps, both from the exertion and the emotional storm raging inside you. You feel trapped, cornered by the very person you’ve been trying to avoid.

You bite your tongue, stepping off the treadmill and walking around her when she steps in front of you. You make a straight line for your bag, watching her from the mirrors as she follows you closely.

"Can you listen?" It's more of a demand than an ask, "I just... Art told me what he did. He's a little shit, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. You have other shit to worry about."

You're taking long chugs from your water, staring at her without saying a word. Part of it is because you have nothing to say to her, and another is because you're afraid that if you speak, she'll see through you.

Tashi's eyes roam over you, lingering on your shorts and the way the wires from your earbuds snake from your iPod, under your tank, and peek out from under your sports bra. Her gaze is both appraising and filled with something unresolved between you. When you don't respond, she sighs. "You look great, by the way. On the court. You've changed your approach. You're vicious."

The compliment stings more than it soothes. You still don't say anything, letting the silence stretch between you like a chasm.

"...Or maybe you've always been. I haven't seen you in a long time. So a lot could've changed, I don't know."

You lower your bottle, swallowing the water. It feels cold as it runs down your throat, a stark contrast to the heat of your rising anger. You can't help the way your eyes drop to her hand when you pull your hair down from its ponytail. The sight of the ring on her finger feels like a punch to the gut.

She notices.

"We didn't want you to find out this way."

Your eyes snap up to hers. "And how was I supposed to find out?"

Tashi looks taken aback for a moment, her confident façade faltering. She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "I don't know. Maybe we should've told you. Should've invited you. But I thought... I thought it would be easier for you if you didn't know. I didn't want to hurt you more than I already had."

Your laugh is bitter, devoid of any real amusement. "Easier?

"Look," Tashi begins, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience, "I'm not a fan of the way I ended things. But I think that keeping a grudge for this long is embarrassing. We were teenagers."

"You're right," you concede with a bitter chuckle, "it is embarrassing. But you know what's even more embarrassing?" Your voice rises, fueled by a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Having your husband come to me and tell me how much he misses me. And how you miss me. But you don't have the guts to tell me that yourself, do you? Do you miss me, Tashi?"

"Of course I miss you," she scoffs, her tone defensive. "You were my best friend. My serving partner. We played and won doubles together."

"Is that all I was to you?"

"Was there supposed to be anything more?"

There it is, the moment you've been dreading, the confrontation you've been avoiding. You can feel the familiar ache in your chest, "You know I fucking loved you, Tashi," you admit. "And yeah, whatever, everyone loved you. No one could get enough of Tashi Duncan. But you know damn well I loved you for more than just that."

"Loved?" She steps closer, her eyes searching yours. "You don't love me anymore?"

"No," you tell her. "I don't. I dropped out of your groupie a while ago."

"What do you love, then?" Her voice is almost a whisper, the distance between you closing.

"I love tennis," you confess, your gaze never leaving hers. "I love winning. Turns out I'm great at both. And I love that too. And people love me. That's more than you could ever give me. Or Art."

"Even Patrick?" The mention of his name is a sharp jab; she's trying to get under your skin.

"I don't know, you tell me." You're taunting her. And you love the way she falters for a split second. "You saw him at the Open last year, didn't you?"

The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you. "Listen," she says, her voice dropping lower, "I just came here to tie some loose ends. For Art's sake. He says It'll be good for me."

"Okay," you reply, seizing the opportunity to turn the conversation in your favour. Hook, line and sinker. "Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Hook.

Tashi's eyes narrow slightly, but she takes the bait, her expression shifting to one of determination. "You raise your arm too high when you serve. You're gonna dislocate your shoulder one day."

"I bet you're waiting for the day I do."

"I can make you the best."

"Am I not already?"

Line.

"You're one of the best at most. But not the best. I'd be surprised if you bring back bronze. You're too short-tempered for silver. Let me coach you. I'll make sure you bring back gold."

"I don't need you," you say, the words catching in your throat.

"We both know you do," she whispers, her breath warm against your lips.

And sinker.

In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. The words hang in the air, a silent challenge. You can feel the heat radiating from her, the closeness almost unbearable.

Without another thought, your lips crash together in a desperate kiss, a release of all the pent-up tension and longing that has simmered between you for far too long.

It's a whirlwind of heat and passion, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume everything in its path. Her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your body pressed against hers with a fierce urgency.

The kiss deepens a symphony of desire and desperation, all the words you couldn't say pouring into it with a fervour that borders on reckless abandon. You can feel yourself start to become absorbed into the bubble that is Tashi Duncan, it sucks you in, and it scares you, makes you feel as if you're sinking into the bottom of the ocean.

She grips the back of your neck, hard enough that her nails dig into the skin. Tashi waits for your gasp, and when you do, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, past your teeth until it collides with your own.

You're moaning, groaning into her mouth with the way she shoves you until your back hits the mirror behind you. You're arching into her at the way she fucking smiles against your lips at your reaction.

It's pathetic. You're pathetic. Almost in the same way Art is. You know it. She knows it. But in your defence, it's been a while since you've been kissed, it's been a while since someone's touched you this way, with heat and flavour. You're a little dizzy from it, cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

Tashi sucks your tongue into her mouth and you buck your hips against the thigh she's pressed between your legs.

There's a sweetness that lingers when she bites your lip, you wonder if she's wearing lipgloss, maybe chapstick. You hope she can't tell you've been drinking, that talking to Art made you spiral, that you've been bluffing since the moment she walked into the gym. Since the night she packed her things and told you she was leaving Stanford, her scholarship has no use since she can't play anymore.

When her hands run down your neck to your waist, gliding over the sweat on your skin, you can feel the cold touch of her wedding ring. It's frigid, making you shiver when Tashi starts to lick up the column of your throat. You almost feel bad about how wet you've become.

"Tashi..." you huff, her hands found their way to the base of your ass, guiding you to rock faster against her, only making you whine. Her grasp is tight, wanting. She pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your crotch closer to hers and then pushing you back down on her leg. She repeats the motion a few times, rolling her own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto her.

Tashi rewards you with a quiet moan—oh, you want her to do that again, you're going to make her do that again, louder and louder—and then, with a touch so light you could cry, she traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

You can feel your stomach nearly drop, "You're married, Tashi."

She pulls away just to laugh at you. One finger traces your slit through your shorts, and you hear yourself moan. She raises her brows, a challenging look in her eyes, "Are you jealous?"

You try to scoff, but the cold glass of the mirror behind you squeaks when you shift. Even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once.

"What would Art say?" You try to say, your hair falling over your face as you try to collect some kind of morality. If you were caught, you can already imagine the headlines and the stories people would write about you. "What would he do if he found us right now?"

"I don't know," Tashi hums, leaning closer. She pretends to think as if the answer isn't obvious, teasing you a little when she gets close enough to kiss you but doesn't. "He'd probably ask to join."

You can't stop the way that thought alone makes you melt. You remember the jokes Patrick used to make back when you were in college, of you and Tashi being his wet dreams. You can almost imagine, how he would moan at everything, want everything, his whiney moans too similar to the ones he makes when he's on the court.

Tashi rubs gently at your pussy a few more times like she's exploring you, and then suddenly she taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and she sighs against your mouth. "You're so wet. You like it when I touch you?"

"Yeah, please... touch me." You nod. And in your head, you're telling yourself you only like it because you haven't been with anyone since Patrick left for his tour.

Tashi kisses you again, and it's a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath her shirt she starts to fumble with your waistband, and you're both angry and resentful and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet.

Her fingers are clumsily slipping into your underwear and then she's there, her fingers are brushing right against your clit—you're so wet that her fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time she reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Tashi leaves you gasping and she teases you for it. "So sensitive," she taunts against your lips, pressing her thumb against your clit so she can see you squirm, pumping her fingers at an urgent pace to hear you moan. "So needy."

With each movement, she scissors her fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and she starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? I am, aren't I? I'm exactly what you need. C'mon say you want me. Tell me you need me, Ace."

"Maybe—" You're breathless, and the nickname has you tugging at her hair again, "Shit, I saw the way you made Art. He... oh god... he wouldn't be half the athlete without you. I also... I also wouldn't want to ruin my shoulder... while—while serving."

"I'm not talking about tennis."

For a moment, you worry that you've fallen for a trap, that you've said too much. You're vulnerable, a little drunk on lust and wine, and Tashi isn't stupid to not catch your sapphic crush on her since the two of you became friends, an old high school love that's never really disappeared, from slumber party kisses and how you've gawked at her, at her husband and even her ex-boyfriend.

"C'mon, Tash, you're always talking about tennis."

"Not this time."

You barely catch onto what she says. Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that she's given up on pumping her fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach—"I think I'm close... oh, I don't—fuck—keep touching me like that."

She bites your neck until you say her name. You pull her hair until she moans. Her touch is blistering against your skin. She says your name in a breathy drawl like she's pleading with you, humouring you, wanting to take everything from you.

"Keep going, please, please don't stop," you all but shout, and Tashi continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of her hand means the heel of her palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into her hand—you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you.

Every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Tashi whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming—

Distantly, you can feel her fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting—and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto her lap—but other than that, all you know is the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once. A hot sting against your skin that reminds you of the sun whenever you're on the tennis court, deep into the game you've turned into the love of your life.

It can't have possibly been this long since the last time you've gotten laid, right?

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Tashi is heaving for breath against your shoulder and her fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. "You're so pretty, you know that? No tennis talk."

You lean your head back against the mirror, a slow grin forming on your lips, "You don't think I'm pretty when I play."

"I think you're hot when you play."

You peek a glance at Tashi, meeting her eyes as she watches you, watching the way you catch your breath, skin shining against the fluorescent lights of the gym, similar to how you shine on the court. Yeah, you're a sight for sore fucking eyes.

Tashi takes slow, taunting steps back and away from you, and then she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes, you can see the most fucked-out look on her face just at the taste of your cum.

She licks her fingers clean—you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight—before opening her eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "I'll be in my room," she rolls up her pink mat (which she never used) and picks up her bag, "I'm sure you know the number. I'm hoping you can return the favour and touch me or something. You know, before you leave in the morning."

tags 🏷️: @begoniaespresso / @sceletaflores / @too-deviant / @wolflover384 / @sevikasblackgf / @supercutszns / @diorrfairy / @24kmar / @apolloscastellan

reblog to support your writers!

#and that is tea #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #patrick x tashi #art x tashi #tashi x art x patrick #challengers 2024 #challengers smut #art challengers #challengers movie #patrick zweig #art donaldson #tashi’s hotel room

480 notes · View notes

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 7 months

Note

Can you write about Ethan fucking reader in missionary and he sees the bulge in her tummy everytime he thrusts inside her and he's just absolutely feral, pressing down on it with his hand to feel himself up in there😵‍💫 pretty please with a cherry on top

HI! Okay, I literally just thought of something along these lines YESTERDAY before I got this request. I was hoping someone would want something like this written. Thank you, and I hope you like it💕

In Too Deep - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan fucks you so hard that he notices something knew about the way you take him.

Contains: Fluff, sexting?, Oral - f!receiving, p in v, rough sex, dom!-ish Ethan, after care. (If I missed anything let me know:)

A/N: Fucking LOVED writing this. There's just something about rough Ethan that just feels so right to write.

Ethan was trying to torture you…at least that’s what it felt like. He’d been holding out on sex for a few weeks, and as bad as you tried, he was always denying your advances. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it, because he was dying to touch you, but he didn’t want your relationship to be more sexual than anything.

While you were at a random frat party with your friends, he’d started to think that he’d made you wait long enough. He was talking with Chad on the other side of the room as you sat with Tara and Anika, sipping on your drink. You barely heard your phone chime over the loud music, and when you checked it, you saw you had a text from Ethan. You looked over to him as he smiled before you checked the message.

Ethan: You look beautiful tonight🩷

You blushed a little as you read his text and started to type your response when the three dots indicating that he was typing again popped up at the bottom of the screen.

Ethan: I can’t wait to take you back to my place and get you out of those clothes

Ethan: I can’t wait to taste your pussy😏

Your eyes grew wide as you tried to keep your composure. You knew your cheeks were heating up as you glanced over to him again. You watched him lock his phone and jump back into the conversation with Chad.

“You okay?” Anika asked, as you quickly flipped your phone so she couldn’t see the screen.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I might go home soon,” you said, trying to fake-yawn as she took a sip of her drink.

“Aww, that sucks. You sure you have to leave soon?” Tara asked as you nodded, when you felt Ethan’s eyes on you again, your phone dinging in your hand. “That boyfriend of yours won’t stop staring at you.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice,” you lied, before looking up at him. He held up his phone, signaling that you needed to check yours once Anika and Tara stopped looking at him.

Ethan: I thought you’d be begging me to leave by now.🙄

Ethan: Don’t you want me to fuck that perfect pussy?

You took a deep breath as you started to type.

You: You’re killing me😫

You: Meet me outside in 5?

Ethan: Can’t wait, baby😘

You looked over to Tara and Anika again, “Hey, I’m going home. I need to get some sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“Aww, but Mindy’s going to be so bummed that you left before she got here,” Anika frowned as you started to laugh.

“There will be more parties. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, anyway,” you smiled at them as you walked towards the door, Ethan watching your every move.

You started to walk back to his place, your pace slowed as you waited for him to catch up to you. You soon heard footsteps walking quickly behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his sweet tone contradicting the filthy things he was texting you.

“What was that about?” you asked, as he pulled away to walk beside you. He laced his fingers with yours as you started to pick up the pace, both of you desperate to be alone.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby,” he said, looking down to smile at you, “I know you think it hurts a little, but do you think you could try to take all of my cock tonight?”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “Why should I do that when you haven’t fucked me in three weeks?”

“Because I think you’d like it,” his tone was cocky as he thought back to all the times you told him it was too much. “Only if you want to, though.”

“We can try it,” you said, the acing between your thighs getting unbearable. “We need to walk faster.”

“Someone’s needy.”

Once you made it to his complex, he intentionally took his time to unlock the door. You glared at him as he slowly stuck the key into the lock and twisted it.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you pleaded, as he smirked at you. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny. I love that you’re so desperate for this,” he smiled, finally opening the door.

Once you walked inside, you grabbed his hand to lead him towards his room. He stopped in the kitchen, his arm stretching out in front of him as you tried to pull him.

“What?” you huffed, noticing a mischievous look on his face as he pulled you back towards him.

“We’ll go to my bed soon, baby. There’s something I really wanted to do first,” he said, as he started to unbutton your jeans. You stepped out of your shoes as he slid your jeans and panties down your legs at the same time.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, the bottom half of your body bare as he teased your thighs with his fingertips.

“I want you to sit your pretty ass up on the counter so I can eat your pussy,” he smirked, his hands going to your hips.

“Oh, okay,” you smiled, placing your arms on the counter and pushing yourself up onto it.

He spread your legs and ran his fingers over your soaked pussy, the feeling making you whimper.

“Please don’t tease me,” you begged, as he chuckled at your words.

He leaned in and gently sucked your clit into his mouth, before his tongue started to flick it.

“Shit,” you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling. “Just like that, baby.”

He alternated between the flicking and swirling his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, your legs starting to twitch at how good he was making you feel. Your pussy was dripping with your arousal, making it easy for him to slide two fingers into you at once with ease.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, as he slid them all the way inside of you. He started to angle them just right after a couple minutes of thrusting them to stretch you out. “Fuck, baby,” you gasped, as he started to hum against your clit.

His fingers were starting to coax your orgasm closer to the edge, your legs starting to jolt as your whines got louder.

“You’re gonna make me cum. I’m so close,” you moaned out, as he started to hit that spot inside of you a little harder. Your hand went to his hair, wanting him to keep his attention on your clit as your pussy started to flutter around his fingers. “Yes, baby!” you cried out, your hips involuntarily bucking against his fingers as that wave of euphoria washed over you.

He worked you through it, before he pulled away with a smirk.

“Did that feel good, babe?” he asked, as you nodded your response. You were already so fucked out from his fingers that you couldn’t even imagine how you’d react once he actually fucked you. “Let’s go to my room.”

He helped you get off the counter, his hands going to your hips as your wobbly legs threatened to give out. He walked you to his room and helped you take off your shirt and bra, before he pushed you back on the soft comforter. You watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, before sliding them, along with his boxers, down his legs. You got a little nervous at his size, and he could tell as he walked to his nightstand to grab a condom.

“Just relax, baby. If it hurts, I’ll stop. Okay?” he said, trying to ease your anxiety as he crawled on top of you.

He slid into you inch by inch, stopping when he had another left to go. He thrusted what he knew you could take, not wanting to rush it. You were moaning underneath him as your hands went to your breasts, squeezing them as he started to move a little faster. You were getting so into it that your legs hooked around the back of his thighs, pulling him as far in as he could go.

“Oh shit,” you mewled, your thoughts clouded as he slowed down a little. He wanted to make sure you were okay, but once you started whining because he wasn’t going fast enough, he sped back up.

“You’re taking my cock so fucking well,” he groaned, watching your face. You started to babble, your words making no sense as he praised you. “I knew you could do it.”

“Mhm,” was all you could get out as he leaned back to watch the way your tits jiggled as he fucked you. That’s when he noticed it.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, running his hand along the bulge his cock was causing on your lower tummy with each thrust. “Does that feel good?” you nodded, your eyes pinched shut as he started to go faster. “And to think you’ve been holding out on me this whole time. You’re taking my whole fucking cock right now,” he growled, as he started to press down on the spot where the tip of his cock kept bulging out. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your whimpers were teetering on the edge of cries as your eyes started to water, but it didn’t hurt. It felt so good, his pace speeding up even more as he continued to press down on you.

“Cumming,” you choked out, unable to say anything else.

He reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, making your orgasm even more intense. He kept watching your tummy, desperate to run his hands over it again as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching him so tight that he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Once you started to go limp, your eyes were hazy as you smiled at him. He started to pound into you, his hand pressing down on your tummy.

“That’s it, fucking take it,” he said, as you moaned out at the feeling. “I need you to be louder, baby.”

You did as he said, but it wasn’t fake by any means. You’d barely come down from your orgasm before he started to send you into another one, your hands gripping the sheets to the point that your knuckles were starting to hurt.

You didn’t give him any warning before your pussy clenched him so tight that he groaned out, your whole body shaking underneath him as you got lightheaded from the intensity of it.

“I’m..fuck. Gonna cum,” he finally got out, completely drunk off your pussy as he released into the condom. He pulled out and relaxed his weight on you as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands went to his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as you started to drift off to sleep.

“Hey, baby?” he asked, leaning up to look at you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded your response, too tired to say anything.

“I know the perfect thing for you,” he said, lifting off of you and running to the bathroom.

You soon heard the water running in his large tub as your eyes started to open. You wanted to get up to meet him in the bathroom, but you knew the odds of you falling to the floor the second you stood up were pretty high.

After the water was shut off, he walked back into his room to get you.

“I need you to come with me,” he smiled sweetly as he helped you up.

He led you down the hall, the dim flickering light cast against the wall making you confused until you walked in and saw a bubble bath surrounded by candles.

“How’s this for after care?” he joked, as he helped you get in. He got in, too, pulling your back to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“This feels so nice,” you said, the hot water relaxing your body.

“Oh, I see someone got their voice back,” he said with a laugh, “You sure you’re okay? That wasn’t too much?”

“No…I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but it didn’t hurt. It felt really good,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss the back of your head. “You’ve never made me cum that quick back-to-back like that.”

“I could literally see every single thrust in your tummy,” he groaned, missing the sight already.

“RIP to my cervix,” you joked, as he laughed. “I think we should do that again soon.”

“I want to give you plenty of recovery time. I was so deep,” he said, rubbing his hands along your lower stomach. “After this, do you want to cuddle and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that…after we disinfect your kitchen counter.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream #smut

572 notes · View notes

mbsneur · 1 month

Text

Last Room Pt.5

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: you hate Alexia but your best friend Salma wants you to get along well with her

Warnings: Fluff,Smut

please read this text before going to the story

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

The next morning you woke up first thing. You opened your eyes slightly. You saw Alexia sleeping peacefully next to you, one of her arms lying lazily on your stomach you need a moment to fully wake up and reflect on the last night a slight smile nestles on your lips and butterflies gather in your stomach. You wanted to check what time it was so that it wouldn't be noticeable and you'd still show up for breakfast on time

You try to pull away from Alexia's arm slightly and she lets out a loud grunt. You feel her slowly waking up and she pulls her arm from your stomach to turn to the other side. You hear her smack her lips softly. You reach for your cell phone 8:05am Luckily it wasn't too late, you thought, since you didn't set an alarm last night

You turn back to Alexia and press yourself tightly against her back. You slowly kiss her hairline

"ale we have to get up, we'll be picked up soon and we still have to have breakfast" you whisper between small kisses

She turns completely towards you in your arms and presses her face against your neck

"We'll get up in 5 minutes please" She says in a moaning tone

The next few minutes you spent scratching Alexia's entire back and head and simply enjoying her closeness

“Alexia, come on now, we really have to get up,” you say, slightly crying, and try to push yourself away from her strong arms

Alexia grunts and lets go of you. You climb over her and out of bed. You go to your suitcase to pick out some fresh underwear and clothes. You feel Alexia literally undressing you with her eyes

“Why are you staring at my ass” you say with a laughing voice and turn around to Alexia

Alexia just shrugs her shoulders and pretends she wasn't looking

“It’s just that your ass fits perfectly in my hand and I have thoughts about it” she winks at you

You roll your eyes playfully and disappear into the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face and tie your hair into a loose ponytail. You have chosen black sweatpants and a basic shirt

When you came out of the bathroom, Alexia was already getting dressed. She was wearing shorts and a black shirt. She smiled at you and came closer to you to stroke your cheek

you bless it with a small smile and shortly afterwards she disappears into the bathroom

You sit down on the bed to take a quick look at your phone

*3 messages from salma*

fuck 9:00am

Salma: where are you?!?!

Salma: did you kill each other or why don't you answer me

Salma: I understand, it was a hot night ;) just hurry up

you answer salma

y/n: Salma, we're almost ready, she just needed a while in the bathroom just wait in front of the door xx

5 minutes later Alexia came out of the bathroom, slightly stressed. She quickly packed the rest of her things into her suitcase to get things in order

"Alexia can you listen to me for a moment"

You say, trying not to stress her out more

“What’s wrong” she says looking directly in your direction and watching how perfectly your lips move

"You have to promise me that you'll behave and we have to act like we still hate each other okay?"

Alexia meets you with a small pout and pulls you close to her by your hips and starts kissing the side of your neck

"I'll behave"

She says laughing because you know full well that Alexia can't behave

You give her a quick kiss and pull away as you scurry past her and she slap you on your ass

“Alexia Putellas Segura behave stop touching me I’m serious” you roll your eyes and let out a small laugh

She trots behind you and you take the room card. When you open the door you are met with the familiar smile of Salma

“Have you had a good night?” Salma jokes lightly

"No, I'm still mad at you, it was sheer horror, I made her sleep on the floor, she's so stressful, she tried to talk to me the whole time."

Salma laughs at you, you playfully hit her on the shoulder. You know full well that she's going to tease you about it for the next few weeks and you're already dreading it

You all have arrived at the elevator and Salma presses the button. Alexia is standing almost next to you and watching you. You look slightly to the side and when Salma looks away you give her a small smile. Alexia is impressed by how well you can lie. Alexia didn't even have to comment

When you reach the bottom floor and go to the buffet, Alexia takes a plate and walks past you. Her fingertips gently stroke your ass. You flinch because you didn't expect the sudden and risky touch

You gently slap her hand away to put her in her place and look at her angrily. She gives you an evil smile. She would have liked to stay in bed with you much longer

You put your breakfast together and just decided on porridge with banana and strawberries and made yourself a cafe. You sit down at the table where Salma and Alexia are sitting

"So we'll be picked up soon and have our make-up put on and our clothes on then we'll go to the event and then we'll fly back this evening" Salma says and looks in your direction. She probably already told Alexia when you were gone

Alexia kicks and pokes you with her feet the whole time and her foot keeps wandering up to your middle. You inconspicuously close your legs. Alexia looks at you with a playful dark look. She just doesn't have enough of you

Alexia looks innocently at her hands as if her foot wouldn't wander between your legs

"I'm going to get a new cafe"

Salma says and goes towards the Buffet

1 second after Salma left, Alexia's hand is under the table between your legs as you blink, her bottom lip is laughing between her teeth

you fidget with your legs and protest against her hand, she pinches you lightly and hits your clitoris

"Alexia, stop it, you really have to behave"

She rolls her eyes in annoyance and removes her hand. She acts like a horny teenager

Salma came back with her cafe and the three of you finished breakfast. About 30 minutes later you were picked up and driven to the location

The trip was relaxed, everyone was busy with themselves and doing their own thing, Alexia was listening to music, Salma was studying for university and you were just swiping around on your phone

After a 40 minute drive you finally arrived. You were warmly welcomed with a glass of champagne and three nice ladies who would do your make-up and dress you

You were shown your clothes. You had a dark blue long dress with a deep neckline that had glitter particles in some places and black heels. You knew that Alexia would fight not to look at you with her mouth open

You were given a long, thick bathrobe over your outfit that you chose this morning

"hey I'm camilla and I'll take care of you, you're y/n right?" The tall blonde woman said to you, meeting you with a friendly smile

“Yes, that’s right I’m pleased to meet you” you smiled back

She placed a large bowl of fruit in front of you to snack on

"Do you have any specific ideas about what I could do or do you want to leave it to me?" she asked

"No I'll leave it to you, I think you know what you're doing" you said

So she started to put make-up on you, not so heavily but still beautifully. She worked with a little concealer, bronzer, blush and highlighter. She did an eye look that highlighted your eye color perfectly. She put a light red tone on your lips with gloss

She made light waves in your hair

After 1:30 hours you were ready and all you had to do was put on your dress. Camilla helped you with that. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but be amazed, the dress fit your figure perfectly and framed the shape of your breasts perfectly

"Woah thanks Camilla, I've never looked so good before" you said, pleased with her work

She smiled slightly at your compliment

You took your handbag, put the most important things in it and wanted to leave the room to check on Salma and Alexia. Alexia was already standing in the hallway. You saw her and your jaw dropped. You fought to get your eyes in order before someone saw you Sees she was wearing a white halterneck dress and her hair was tied in a perfect bun

When she saw your figure, her eyes immediately began to sparkle. She came towards you and you looked around to see that there was no one around

"Do you want to kill me, you look so good oh my-mierda"

You laugh, slightly embarrassed at her, her eyes wandering all over your body, admiring every inch

"Ale you also look amaz-" you were interrupted by a door banging open loudly

You take a step back in shock

"Alexia, my god, how many times have I told you to leave me alone, you're incredibly annoying," you say loudly and annoyed in a way that Salma could hardly miss

Salma laughed as always at your childish behavior

"Chicas let's finally go then we'll have it behind us and stop fighting" said Salma, slightly annoyed and laughing, and went ahead

Alexia walks past you "your tits look good too baby" she whispers to you with a smug smile

These words make your legs go weak and your thoughts become confused. You take a deep breath and run after them. The way to the festival was a short walk that you took with two security men

When you got there you walked over a red carpet, took photos and gave a few interviews. The afternoon was quiet. You had a lot to do with standing on stage and saying something small about the Nike company and talking to friends that you had for a long time you haven't seen anymore

When the food came you looked for your name that was on the tables. Alexia's name was on the sign next to your sign what a coincidence

salma and alexia‘s friends were sitting opposite you like Lucía García and Mariona Caldentey

They talked throughout the meal about football and stuff that Mariona is now playing in London and general things.

"How come you and y/n are sitting together? Was there something you agreed on?" Mariona asked laughing

You pretend you didn’t hear Mariona’s question and Lucia’s laugh

"I don't know she'll probably always be mad at me but unfortunately we couldn't choose our seat so I'll have to sit here" Alexia said and you felt a big hand squeeze your thigh tightly

You didn't want to look over. You couldn't even confront Alexia and tell her to stop

fuck

Alexia's hand goes to you. You're glad that she doesn't have a chance to get under your dress. She continued talking to Mariona and Lucia as if her hand wasn't almost on your pussy

“y/n hello, are you even listening to me” Salma interrupts you from your thoughts

"y-yes" you stutter and want to pull your leg away from alexia's hand but she grabs it hard and pulls it back

Salma continues to tell you about Spain's World Cup celebration. You hope that this evening will be over soon

Alexia's hand just lightly strokes your thigh and after about an hour and a few wine glasses, a brown-haired man comes onto the stage

"I would like to thank you for turning up in such large numbers this evening and getting to know more about Nike and their athletes. I would like to end the evening with this. The bar is still open for those who want to stay a while and I wish the rest of you one Have a nice evening," said the man in a friendly manner and the room began to clap

It was now evening and Salma looked at the clock

"Unfortunately we have to go, our flight is coming soon and we would like to go home today" Salma said, looking at you and Alexia

Alexia removed her hand from your thigh and looked over at you briefly to take in your beauty. Alexia stood up first to say goodbye to the rest

Salma and you did the same. You all hugged and made your way back to the place where your makeup was done because you had to get your bags and wanted to wear something comfortable. You put on your sweatpants from this morning and a fresh shirt

You hurried because it was a 50 minute drive to the airport. You got in the car and were driven. You didn't talk much to each other because you were slightly drunk and just tired

At the airport you checked in your luggage and took a short detour to a shop where you could buy water

When your flight was called you made your way to board

It was a plane where there were only two seats and an aisle in between

Salma offered to sit with you so you didn't have to sit with Alexia but you protested and wanted to give Salma the seat to sit with Alexia. Salma found it a bit strange since yesterday you didn't even want to sleep in the same bed with her and now even wanted to sit next to her

Salma didn't want to discuss any further because she was tired herself and so she just sat down on the 2 seats alone. You sat down on the other 2 seats by the window and Alexia next to you

You got blankets from the flight attendants because it was a bit cold on the plane. Alexia put the blanket over your legs

You tried to relax and actually wanted to sleep a little. A few minutes passed. You had already been in the air for 30 minutes

You suddenly noticed Alexia's hand on your leg again. You immediately looked over to her to give her a warning look

"pshh baby you've been teasing me so much all day today and I'm not allowed to touch you"

She says quietly, sliding further and further towards your waistband You looked at Salma, luckily she fell asleep

Alexia's hand continued to run along the waistband of your pants and you let out a small, heavy noise. You didn't take your eyes off Alexia

“you have to be quiet you understand y/n just trust me”

Alexia says and breathes against your lips that are so desperate for her kisses. Her hand slowly slips into your pants and you whimper. You press your face into the side of the seat to suppress the noises that Alexia elicits from you

You grab Alexia's arm to push it further into your pants. She moves over your underwear and caresses your whole pussy

Your mouth is open and Alexia looks forward so as not to show anything. She now starts to make precise circles around your clitoris. You whimper and nibble on one of your fingers to suppress it as much as possible. Alexia stays in this position until she herself What's certain is that you can stay quiet

Alexia stopped to push your underwear to the side to have more access to you. With her other hand she pulled the blanket a little higher and held it tight

She strokes along your folds and spreads your wetness all over your clitoris

“Alexia please I need more” you said quietly suppressing any noise you made

Alexia went further down with her middle finger and slowly ran it between your folds. She dipped her finger into you, eliciting a small moan from you

She started pumping slowly into you. Your breathing became more irregular and Alexia slowly came closer to you

"You're doing so well just be a little quiet“

you looked at her and watched her lips closely as she said all the good things to you while pumping her finger into you

"You looked so good in your dress, you know that actually, I would have loved to drag you into the nearest toilet and fuck you"

"Mmm did you like it you made me so wet at the table" You say quietly, stuttering because you're afraid you could moan at any moment

Alexia's chin carefully rests on your shoulder

“I need another finger,” you said sheepishly, embarrassed by how common you were on a plane next to the woman you were supposed to hate

Alexia accepted your request and slowly ran her ring finger through your folds and added it to her other finger. You gripped the armrest slightly and stood up briefly

Your head falls deeper into the seat. You take in every feeling, even more intense than last night. Alexia's hot breath close to your skin makes you weak

"You're so wet is that all for me?" she whispers to you

you try to look at her you start to whimper desperately you are so desperate for Alexia's touch

"Just for you, everything you do turns me on you kept my nipples hard all evening ale“

You moan softly and now put your hand on your mouth. Alexia starts curling her fingers and becomes a little faster

"Do you want it like that mh?"

"my clitoris Alexia I beg you" You say with your hand in front of your mouth

"did you really want me to fuck you today or why did you choose this dress" She says in your ear in a rough voice

"I didn't want to upset you I'm just desperate for you please touch my clitoris"

After that sentence Alexia pressed her thumb hard against your clitoris which made you twitch violently. She pressed large circles on it

"fuck alexia just keep going" You whisper quietly afraid that anyone will hear

Alexia gets faster and you're a mess. Alexia knows how to make you come she did it enough times last night

Your eyes roll tightly into the back of your head. You find it hard to suppress the moan. You whisper quietly. Alexia's lips are tight and her circles around your clit become more precise, causing your hips to sway slightly

Your walls cling tightly around Alexia's thick fingers. She fucks deep into your tight pussy. You're afraid that someone might hear the sound of your wet pussy because Alexia doesn't stop going faster

"You're driving me crazy Bebita the way you hold back your moans is driving me crazy" she tells you and you just nod because you don't know how to deal with all these feelings your breath is stuck all that comes out of you is a soft moan

Your stomach walls contract and your pussy becomes tighter. Your hips slam into Alexia's hands and she pushes them down again

"Stay calm Bebita you'll be too loud" Alexia says with a bit of fear in her voice

After a few minutes and strong thrusts, you nervously tap Alexia on the arm

she looks directly at you "ale- l'm close"

She wants to see you when you come, she doesn't stop looking at you, she pushes deeper into you

you let out silent moans and your legs start to shake slightly. you grab her arm that is inside you so that she doesn't have a chance to stop pumping into you

You start to tense up and come hard on Alexia's fingers. You scratch deep into her arm. The orgasm shakes your whole body

"psh psh stay quiet please" alexia says nervous

her fingers slow down and your body begins to relax

you breathe hard and she slowly removes her hand from you and comes up from the ceiling her entire hand is glistening with your juices she knowingly puts her fingers in her mouth and rolls her eyes until you hear the sound telling you to buckle up

fuck. You're glad the flight is over.

i hope you liked it <3

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #fitblr #woso appreciation #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso smut #woso soccer #woso x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

243 notes · View notes

slutforsturns · 4 months

Text

𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖊 - 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖔

warnings: giving head, unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (ma, baby, etc), whimper audio mentions, very light (literally like one sentence) masturbation, aftercare !!!

a/n: my first story on here 🤭 pls send requests I promise I'll do them! also tell me if u like the story!

MDNI !!!!

word count: 2.4k

mini playlist: dangerous woman by ariana grande, often by the weekend, shut up and listen by nicholas bonnin, bathroom by montell fish >3333

enjoy!

You were at a party with your friends, a girl hangout.

You were all drunk and had decided to play truth or dare.

Unfortunately, it was your turn.

“Truth or dare,” One of your friends asked you.

If you were your usual sober self, you would have said truth.

But right now, you were dangerously drunk.

“Dare” You say, giggling as you wait for your friends to tell you what you have to do.

Your friend looks at the group, whispering something before she turns to you.

“Your dare is to text the third man in your contacts and ask him for a whimper audio.” She says, laughing as she watches your eyes widen slightly.

But instead of being a baby and not doing it, you open your phone and go to your contacts.

You gasp when you see who it is. Matt Sturniolo, your enemy.

You had texted him a few days ago about something, probably to get on his nerves, but now, you were going to have to text him and request a whimper audio.

Oh God.

Your friends watched eagerly as you typed out ‘send me a whimper audio’. You knew your friends were waiting on you to send it so you decided against clarifying it was for a dare, for right now, at least.

Your fingers shook as you hit send, immediately regretting your decision, even in your drunken state.

Your friends squealed as it sent and almost immediately, you saw that he read it.

You hit yourself in the head but just sigh and turn your phone off, continuing the game.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You arrived home an hour later, by Uber, and crashed into your apartment, making a beeline for your couch.

Your head was pounding and you collapsed on the couch, breathing deeply. Your head felt like it was spinning on a merry-go-round and you could see fucking sounds and hear colors.

You were close to passing out when a ding went off. You fumbled for your phone that was still in your pocket and opened it. It was a message from Matt.

No, not a message. A voice note. It was just over two minutes long. You groan and think about the whimper audio dare. You were sure it was just two minutes of Matt asking what the hell was wrong with you and why the hell you would ask that.

Even though you know it’s a bad idea, you still click on it.

Immediately, you hear a soft moan. And then another one, and another one.

And you think, just for a moment, in the background you can hear something else.

Is that his-? You ask yourself. You shake your head and continue to listen.

A loud moan erupts from your phone and heat shoots right to your core. You debate throwing your phone but instead take a deep breath.

At about a minute in, you hear his voice.

“F-fuck, Y/N, I’m about to cum thinking about you.” You hear Matt say softly. His voice sounds far off as his heavy breathing comes through your speakers.

“This is what you do to me, Y/N.” You hear him whisper again. “I’m so fucking glad you asked for this, was wondering when you’d get my hints.” He laughed slightly, a groan following right after.

You could hear his breathing speed up as his movements sounded faster through the phone.

And you couldn’t help the way his words made you feel. Horny. Very fucking horny.

You couldn’t control yourself as you started the voice note over and your hand sneakily made its way under your sweats and into your panties.

You began to circle your clit and let out a moan that was almost in sync with Matt’s. “Oh fuck, “ You whimpered quickly before removing your hand from yourself.

You quickly paused the audio and texted Matt.

‘Please come over, I need you so bad.’

You hit send and waited eagerly for a response. You got one nearly immediately.

‘Omw ma’

—

Ten minutes later, you hear a knock on your door.

All you’ve been doing is listening to the audio. Over and over and over.

And trying not to touch yourself has been torture. But you knew it would be worth it when you heard those sounds in real life.

You rush to the door and fling it open, mouth dropping when you see Matt.

Black tank top, gray sweats hanging so low you could see the top of his Calvin Klein underwear, silver chain on his neck. You could almost drop to your knees right then and there.

He smirked at you before sliding past you. You shut the door quickly and spun around to face him.

“Send a whimper audio, hm?” He asked, slowly moving towards you. “What in the world made you ask me that? Because I know it wasn’t of your own doing, baby.” He pointed out, getting nearer.

You began to back away from him until your back hit the front door. “It was a dare.” You respond, gulping.

He smiled down at you as he stood above you. “Was it now?”

You nod quickly and avert your eyes from his face but he puts his fingers under your chin and turns your face back to his.

“Well, you got your whimper audio. So what do I get?” He asked you, quietly, dipping down to your ear. “Hm?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You admit. Matt just chuckles and starts peppering soft kisses along your jaw.

“But Ma, I think you do. It’s not fair that I give you something and I get nothing in return. That’s not right, now is it?” He asks, licking a stripe up your neck.

You shake your head dumbly, relishing in the feeling of Matt’s mouth on your neck. “Mhm no that’s not f-fair.” You say, slurring your words.

“Yeah, so what do you think we should do about that, hm?”

You just so happened to glance down between the two of you. You could see Matt’s hardened bulge in his sweats and dropped down to your knees.

You gazed up at him and began to slowly draw his sweats down. You said nothing, just gazed at him through your long eyelashes. You could see his cock in his underwear, straining against the fabric, begging to be let free.

“May I?” You asked him, your voice dripping with honey. He simply nodded quickly and you wasted no time pulling his underwear down and running your small hand along his length,

Matt watched intently as you carefully licked a stripe up the underside of his length, your tongue running along a vein that had him throwing his head back, holding back a groan.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, tasting his salty-sweet precum on your tongue. Matt let out a low groan, and feverishly watched as you took him in your mouth, inch by painstaking inch.

“Fuck princess, please hurry up.” He almost begged, head falling forward. You smiled around his cock but took him until his tip touched the back of your throat.

“Mhm yeah that’s it” He groaned, various curses spilling out of his mouth as you ran your tongue along the underside of his length. But Matt was still impatient, growing frustrated at your slow pace.

He didn’t want to but his pleasure was so blinding that he could hardly think about the repercussions right now. He took your head and moved it back and forth on his dick.

You let out a squeal around his dick but quickened your pace. Tears pricked at the edge of your vision and you gagged around Matt but it didn’t stop his hand from continuing to force his dick farther and farther down your throat.

“Fuck baby, you’re absolutely loving my dick in your mouth, hm?” He forced out through gritted teeth.

His words shot straight to your core and you could feel the wetness down there. You wanted to hurry up so he could go ahead and just fuck you.

You began to play with his balls in your hand, earning a moan to erupt from Matt’s mouth along with another strained “Fuck Ma.”

You could feel his balls tighten and knew he was coming close to his finish. And you wanted to help him.

You tried to fit his whole length in your mouth and managed to get most of it in. Then you began running your tongue all along his shaft.

“Baby, you’re gonna swallow all my cum, okay?” He instructed.

Spit came out of the sides of your mouth and your vision began to blur from your lack of air but you had to do this for Matt. It was only fair.

He fucked your face roughly before finally letting out a loud groan and shooting thick spurts of cum straight down your throat.

He pulled out quickly and you gulped down air, panting as tears forced themself out the edges of your eyes.

You looked up at Matt who had regained his breath and gave him a small smile before wiping your mouth.

Matt could feel himself hardening again from the sight beneath him. He needed to be inside of you, now.

He took you under your arms from where you sat on the floor and hoisted you up and over his shoulder. You let out a squeak but don’t try anything as he carries you to your bedroom.

He takes you off of his shoulder and places you on the bed before immediately shedding his tank, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

You took yours off quickly too, not wanting to waste any time. You wanted this, you needed this.

Matt came over to you on the bed and started kissing you, not gently but roughly. His lips were urgent and yours fought back, a mess of teeth and tongue.

His hands wandered to your bra and started unclipping it, throwing it when he finally got it off. He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at you, your breasts on display for him.

“So fucking beautiful Ma” Matt said.

You let out a soft whimper at his words, your nipples hardening to the point of pain.

“You helped me so I help you, yeah? How about we get these leggings off?” He asked you and you nodded quickly, maybe too quickly but you were too blinded by your need for pleasure, especially if it came from him.

He pulled the leggings off you and discarded them. You suddenly remembered that you were wearing lacy blue panties, which you just so happened to remember was Matt’s favorite color.

“Did you wear these for me, baby?” He smirked. You whined, becoming needy for him to touch you.

“Please Matt, I need you so bad.” You whined out, grasping for his hands to just go ahead and take your underwear off. He didn’t resist as you guided his hands to the waistband of your underwear and drew his hands down, dragging your underwear with it, until they slipped off your legs and into the bedding.

He moved your legs open slightly, licking his lips when he saw how wet your cunt was, your wetness practically dripping down your slit. Matt simply couldn’t wait anymore, he needs you right now.

He looked to you for consent as he lined his cock up with your entrance. You nodded and he sank into you immediately, groaning. You whined at the quick intrusion but Matt stopped for a moment to let you get adjusted to his size before he continued.

He pulled out before thrusting into you at an agonizingly slow pace. You clawed at the bedsheets, practically begging him to just go faster, to fuck you into the mattress, to be rough, to hurry up.

“Damn, you’re really needy, huh ma?” He commented, rolling his hips lazily. You whined again. “Faster, faster, please go faster Matt” You begged him, writhing with need under him.

Then, in what seemed like almost a second, he quickly took you under your knees and raised you up before thrusting into you roughly. You moaned loudly, happy with the new pace. He quickly found a rhythm that had you screaming his name so loud people several floors down probably heard you.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He grunted as he fucked into you. You squeezed around his cock, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Matt, M’ gonna-”

“Mhm yeah baby, gonna cum on my cock? Huh, you gonna cum on my fucking cock?”

You nodded mindlessly, desperately grinding yourself on Matt’s cock in a feeble attempt to chase your high. Your tits bounce with the force of his thrusts, breathy moans erupting from your mouth every time he slams into you. He thrusted so hard into you that the headboard began to hit the wall but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck.

You hold onto the sheets so tight, it feels like your fingers might go straight through them. You’ve never been fucked this hard and needless to say, you were fucking loving it.

And then you felt it, that wonderful knot unraveling in your stomach, the intense pleasure that rippled through your body and caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head. You chanted Matt’s name over and over as you rode your high, so much it didn’t even sound like a real word anymore.

As you came on Matt’s cock, your pussy gripped his cock in the perfect way and then, Matt was cumming too. It seemed like it wouldn’t stop as he shot his sperm into you, not stopping his assault on your pussy as he fucked his cum into you.

“So fucking perfect, Ma. ‘Could fuck this pussy all night” Matt said. And then, he slumped over, exhausted but so fucking happy.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes so you could both catch your breath. Then Matt pulled out and watched as his cum slowly poured out of you onto the bed.

Your eyes fluttered gently as Matt wiped a piece of hair out of your face. He went to the bathroom and turned on the water, starting to make you a bath. Then he went back to you. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, helping you to use the toilet so you didn’t get a UTI.

Then he carefully put you into the bathtub and cleaned you off, washing your body and hair, all the while you let him. He took extra care to wash the soap off and wrap you in a fluffy towel. He carried you back to the bed and took the sheets off and threw them in the wash before putting new ones on the bed.

He laid down with you and cuddled. You wrapped your arms around his neck and muttered “I love yous” on his skin.

----<333

348 notes · View notes

applejuicebegood · 5 months

Note

Hi babes! It’s Naz (from @midnightorchids, I just realized you can’t send messages from side blogs unfortunately), I hope you're doing well!! I thought that since you're always sending me fun little scenarios, it's only fair if I send something back! Someone requested this prompt earlier this week and it’s quite rushed, but I thought you'd enjoy reading this as well. Let me know your thoughts!

Jason's hand grazes the soft surface of your skin, his fingers delicately tracing the thin lines of the new tattoo adorning your neck.

The tattoo was an homage to your love for him and he's touched. No one's ever made him feel this way before.

Jason's spent a lot time in the dark, closed off from the rest of world, feeling unlovable, but you made him feel otherwise. When he was with you, he no longer saw the horrid man he once thought he was. With you, he felt loved, he felt enough.

Jason bites back a smile and his fingers continue to dance around your skin, it tickles, but you let him continue.

The tattoo was more for you than it was for Jason, it was a constant reminder of his presence. A reminder for when he left for long missions, for when you were afraid he might not make it back. You now always had a piece of him with you.

You had it planned out for months and had finally got the courage to go through with it. Now, on the back side of your neck, sits a small bat, Jason's bat, his symbol.

Jason's fingers lace around your jaw, making you face him. He cradles your face gently into his palms and you find yourself snuggling into his touch.

"You did this for me," he questions softly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Just for you Jay," you reply and he smiles, hard, teeth and all.

"It's so fucking pretty, you're so pretty," and he places a soft kiss on your lips. "Can't believe you did this for me babe," and he kisses you again. With every kiss, you can feel him smirking harder against your lips, he's excited, he's happy.

He pulls back and laughs, rubbing his face with hands. His laugh is deep and contagious, you find yourself giggling with him.

"Holy shit dude, you really got a tattoo for me," he exclaims. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"No one better have Jay," you say furrowing your eyebrows, trying to get serious, but there's a huge smile plastered on your face. Jason reciprocates with a cheesy lopsided grin.

He pulls you in close again, this time embracing you with his large frame, you hug back tighter and he kisses the crown of your head, with a loud 'muah' sound.

"I love you," he says.

"And I love you Red," you reply and he takes that as a sign to continue smothering you with kisses.

NO CUZ I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT. Was literally having the worst time studying for English finals and then you part the clouds and grace me with this!!!! Like are you kidding???!!!!! And you best believe Jason has tattoos on his body specifically about you. In some of the comics and fanart he's got these detailed sleeves or back pieces, I personally think he's got a more patchwork kinda style. He would get your birth flower or the date of your anniversary tattooed on the inside of his wrist or his chest (over the heart). You would smile and hide your face in your own giddy puppy love as you lay across his naked chest, the tattoo just under your cheek. He think's it's incredibly funny and sweet. If you ever decide to get more tattoos yourself, he's coming with you to every session. It's more to help with the pain of it- offering his hand for you to squeeze or his arms to lean onto if ur feeling woozy and need a break. I think ya'll would get really small/subtle matching tattoos. Like a small sun and moon- or a the first letter of your names tattooed on the other. It's something easily hidden that only the both of you get to blush and giggle over. HAND TATTOOED JASON DEAR LORD ALMIGHTY- you would kiss over the lettering or the curved lined patters over the tops of his hands and across every knuckle. He melts as you bring his palm up to your cold cheek, now holding your face so gently.

- Man dude- like I said, was having a really rough go of it and this literally turned my day entirely around. Like I was able to get the rest of my review stuff done cuz I was feeling so much better after reading this. Your such a gift babe - thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!! Masterlist

#jason todd #batfam #batfamily #red hood #robin jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine

200 notes · View notes

imaginethathaikyuu · 1 year

Note

Em, you probably don't know this, but I actually have a huge weakness for streamer!Kenma. This might be kinda basic but what if streamer!Kenma and streamer!reader are both super popular, and everyone is always begging them to stream together, but what everyone DOESN'T know is that they're secretly dating and are afraid that if they stream together everyone will figure it out :') but it's just a thought so yeah no pressure. I hope you do get some inspo for streamer!Kenma though 💗 ily!

kris i love u and i wrote this just for u <333 it feels like me and u are playing ping pong with the writing brain cell recently. i love it we're so back

streamer!kenma x streamer!reader

featuring: secret relationship, kenma teaches u how to play chess on stream, loving banter, little bits of chess talk. i tried not to put too much streamer talk in this so it was actually readable and not cringe. gender neutral reader word count: 1882

Kenma was just about to end his stream when he noticed your name being typed in the chat. Someone linked a clip of you from your stream - which was currently live - so he clicked it.

A text to speech message read out loud, “Are you going to be in Noya’s next event?” and as you were focusing on your gameplay, you took a second to reply.

“Am I… No, I don’t think so.”

Kenma laughed while you struggled your way through playing MineCraft.

“I was invited but - chat, I don’t want to start any drama but I kind of don’t want to play in it if Kenma’s playing, and someone told me he was invited.”

Kenma barked a laugh, a loud noise that was rarely heard from him, as you shrugged and struggled to hide your smile.

“There, I said it! If it starts drama, so be it!” You put your hands up in defense, laughing at yourself.

The clip ended, so he immediately opened your stream, and you were still talking about him.

He couldn’t hide his smile if he tried - he only hoped none of his viewers noticed the fondness in his eyes.

The two of you had been dating for at least a year, and it was the best kept secret of his career.

There was a joke online about the two of you not liking each other. It all started when you were openly avoiding him in a game lobby with other streamers - from there, it grew into a bit that you committed to full throttle.

Everyone knew you and Kenma were friends in real life. You shared a friend group, and often streamed with the same people. Online, however, you made a spectacle of not liking him.

Kenma found it hilarious, and so did your chat.

“Do you guys know he cheats in like, every game he plays?”

“That’s not true!” He was laughing and rolling his eyes at the same time. “Oh my god.”

He typed his words in your chat, and he watched the messages flood with his name.

Your eyes widened a little when you read, “Is he in chat? Kenma, go away. This stream isn’t for you.”

He typed a simple, “no,” and you scoffed at it.

“Every time I mention your name you show up - I know you love the drama.”

A few seconds later a text to speech message read, “he’s such a theater kid,” and at the sound of your laughter, he closed your stream.

“I’m not a theater kid.” He sank a little in his chair, watching his chat being filled with emotes. “I literally played sports in high school!”

It was only a few days later when he was sent another clip from your stream, this time from a text to speech donation.

“Kenma, I think you need to see this.”

He clicked the link and saw you were once again playing MineCraft.

It was a long clip - in the game, you jumped off your boat into the ocean and started swimming to the bottom. Everyone in your chat was telling you not to, but you didn’t listen.

“I’m not going to die. Why would I die? This is the best run I’ve had. I’m not going to die.”

That’s when he realized you were playing the hardcore version of the game, meaning if you died, the game was over.

He watched as you swam down into a huge ravine, and he had a feeling he knew what would happen as your character’s air bubbles were slowly popping.

“Do you want to make a bet? If I die here I will do anything you want. Anything. Because I’m not going to die!”

As you said that, your character started taking damage. And you tried swimming back up to the surface of the water, but you weren’t fast enough. You almost made it, and then - game over!

Your head was in your hands as the chat on screen spammed, “stream with Kenma!”

Three days later, you were forced to take your punishment.

Your viewers had been asking you to stream with Kenma for a long time, and you always avoided it with a joke - never revealing the real reason you didn’t want to go live with him.

It wasn’t the end of the world if your relationship became public, but you knew things would be much easier in private. It wasn’t something you were trying to hide, but you weren’t posting it proudly, either.

You decided on streaming Kenma teaching you how to play chess. He’d been playing a lot online, and you hoped it wouldn’t take longer than an hour. You were too nervous to go any longer than that.

Kenma was late to answering your call. When he finally answered, you immediately started berating him.

“Have you ever been on time?”

“I was just seeing how long you’d wait for me,” he said.

“If you never showed up, I would have gotten out of doing this.”

He pulled up your stream just so he could look at you - even though he’d seen you just a few minutes ago. You were just down the hall, but nobody watching knew that.

“Have you been watching my stream this whole time?”

He grinned, “No, I’ve never watched your stream.”

“Then why are you always in my chat?”

You sat with your legs crossed, playing with the necklace you always wore - the one he bought for you just a few months ago. He loved seeing you wear it.

“Because you’re always talking about me, like you’re obsessed with me or something.”

“Can we get to the game? You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

Kenma wasn’t a good teacher - far from it - but he tried his best. After teaching you the names of all the pieces and how they moved, you were ready to play a game that he’d guide you through. You played white, he played black.

“Can you just teach me the best opening in the game? I don’t need to know anything complicated.”

“...Okay.”

He took a second to decide. Once he made up his mind, he started giving his instructions.

“The first move is pawn to f3.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you see the pawns?”

You laughed, because the way he said it sounded like he was talking to a kid. “Yes, I see the pawns!”

“Move the one on the F file up one square.” After a second you made your move, and it was his turn: pawn to e6. “Now pawn to g4.”

“What’s this opening called?”

He didn’t reply, instead, he was distracted by his chat. By now, everyone had already figured out what he was doing, and the messages they were sending made him laugh.

“Kenma?”

“It’s called the Fool’s Mate,” he said.

“Why?”

He had to push his microphone away from his face so you wouldn’t hear him laugh, but he pulled it back to say, “I think this is why.”

He made his next move: queen to h4. And a window popped up on his screen, You Won!

“What the fuck!”

“Good game.”

“Kenma, what the fuck!”

“You made it too easy.”

“Kenma.” You were whining his name, sinking into your chair. “This is why I don’t like you.”

“Everyone knew I would beat you, I just sped things up.”

“That’s not true!”

“You’re always such a sore loser,” he mumbled.

“You’re always a cheater.”

Twenty minutes later, you were in the middle of a real game - if Kenma telling you which moves to make could be considered real. And both of you had successful streams so far, your viewers none the wiser to the truth of your relationship.

It was easy, he realized, and fun. He hated how funny you were, because you could make him laugh more than anyone, and he was sure he seemed completely lovesick.

“I think you should move the bishop,” Kenma suggested when you took more than two minutes to offer your next move.

“Uh…”

“The bishop.”

“I don’t remember which one that is!”

Kenma waited for you to figure it out, and then you moved your queen.

And he was truly disappointed, because that was the one move you shouldn’t have made. He couldn’t even laugh.

“You just sacrificed your queen.”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“Babe - that was a total blunder!” His queen captured yours, and he realized this may have been a complete waste of time. “You lost your most important piece!”

“I thought that was the bishop, Ken!”

He sighed, acting as dramatic as possible. “You haven’t learned a thing. It’s basically game over, now,” and he scanned the chess board on his screen, looking for the quickest way to end the game.

He looked over at his chat to see it was being spammed with question marks, and then his phone vibrated with a message from you.

It read, “you just let the cat out of the bag.”

“Oh,” he said. He laughed, because he only just realized what he said - the nickname had slipped before he could catch himself - and something awkward started to settle. But he shrugged it off. “Oops.”

He started texting you back until you said, “are you disappointed in me, babe?”

“Oh my god.” He sat his phone down, ignoring your message completely. “Stop flirting with me.”

“You said it first!”

“It was an accident!”

You texted him again. “Should we just tell them?”

He typed back, “I think so.”

“Okay, wait,” you said. “Everyone go look at Kenma’s stream. He’s going to do something really cool while I go to the bathroom.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He opened your stream in another tab and watched you get up from your seat.

Everyone in your chat and his was confused - as was he.

Then, his door opened, and you walked in.

“What are you doing?” he laughed.

“I wanted to come say hi.” You walked over to him, grabbing the back of his chair and turning it back and forth just to bother him. “Wait, are you streaming?”

He scoffed, but it was all affectionate. “You’re so dumb.”

You looked down at his screen and waved, “hi chat!” and then noticed he had your stream on his second monitor. “You’re watching my stream!”

“Yeah, I’m a fan,” he joked.

He knew the chat would be filled with questions and reactions, but he didn’t care at all. He found this entire thing hilarious, and judging by the smirk on your face, you did too.

When you finally got back to your room, you sat down as if nothing had even happened.

“Okay, can you teach me what a Queen’s Gambit is?”

“No, because you can’t even tell me which piece is the queen.”

Later that night when you had both ended your livestreams, both of you made your own posts on twitter acknowledging the announcement you’d made. Kenma posted a photo of you with his cat in your lap - the one that had been his phone wallpaper since he’d taken it. You posted the first selfie you’d taken together - both without captions, because there was no explanation required.

And if you kept acting like you hated Kenma during your stream, he’d be the only one allowed to call your bluff.

send a request for a drabble and i might write it :)

#(posting at 7 am cuz im just excited to post.)#i love u kris <3 thank u for the writing inspiration #this was actually so fun to write #and i wouldnt have written it if u hadnt asked me to lmao #i love it!#ive missed writing like this ;-;#everything i write is so COMPLICATED but its so fun to just write something SIMPLE!!!!!!#kenma kuzome #kenma kozume x reader #kenma kozume x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #fluff #haikyuu oneshot

673 notes · View notes

bbina · 6 days

Text

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . take a hit

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ 5k words! wow! i'm having so much fun making this story yall idk if yall are on the same wavelength as me but i fear this may dethrone btl sometime around..

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @istglevi-gotmesimping @ennycutie @ffixtionista @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

"ready to go?" seunghan chirps the moment you open your door. rolling your eyes, you wave him off. locking your dorm before you leave

"ready as i'll ever be i guess.." you murmured, jiggling the doorknob for safe measure. seunghan laughs and walks on ahead

"where is this party anyway?" you ask, grabbing your phone from the pocket of your jeans, checking if you had any notifications but only to be met with the clock that reads 9:04 PM staring right back at you

before seunghan could answer, his phone starts ringing. he holds a finger up, motioning you to wait as he answers his phone

"hello? yeah we're on our way" you hear him say to the phone. it must be his friends looking for him "we? i'm with y/n right now" he continues, looking back at you and shooting a smile

you make a face at seunghan for even mentioning your name to his friends. they probably don't even know who you are minus wonbin who you've already met

"we're literally just across the street so hold the shots til we're there. see you sohee bye!" seunghan cuts sohee off on the phone and abruptly ends the call

"it's the guys. they're looking for us. let's go!" seunghan hums, grabbing your arm and hauling your ass out of your dorm building so that you two could finally go to this damned party

you were starting to think coming to this party might’ve been a mistake…

. . . ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

when seunghan said on the phone that you two were across the street, you didn't think of the fact that the party would be held at wonbin's building

now that you think about it, you didn't question wonbin's message earlier when he mentioned "our rooftop"

"FINALLY YOU'RE HERE" sohee yells out at the exact moment him and seunghan made eye contact. he makes his way through the sea of people on the rooftop to meet with you and seunghan

"and who is this?" you hear sohee ask after dapping seunghan up

seunghan clears his throat, ready to give you another dramatic introduction to one of his friends but not today seunghan, not today

"i'm y/n. i'm seunghan's friend" you introduce yourself to sohee, waving a little

sohee quickly takes a good look at you before it all clicks in his head

"oh! you're the girl who slapped seunghan the other day right? it's so nice to finally meet you! i'm sohee!" sohee beams, shaking your hand

you were a little taken a back by his description on how he knew you by but nonetheless you eagerly shake his hand back

sohee suddenly clasps his hands together, catching both of you and seunghan's attention

"the guys have been waiting for you seunghan, so let me take you to them" sohee chirps, turning around and walking ahead further into the sea of people

you feel seunghan's hand push your back as he follows sohee, "c'mon. we don't want to get lost" seunghan says loud enough for you to hear over the sound of the music that's playing loudly on the rooftop

there were a lot of people like you initially expected. sungchan is a well known guy in campus, so no doubt people wouldn't want to miss his party, let alone his birthday

you take a look around your surroundings filled with familiar and unfamiliar peers. you could recognize some people in some classes you've shared in the past but you mostly kept to yourself. the only friends you made during freshman year was giselle, karina and seunghan with the exception of minjeong and ningning

your little train of thought gets interrupted when you hear someone yell out seunghan's name

"seunghan! over here!" someone yells. seunghan's head perks up and follows the sound of the voice

"eunseok hyung!" seunghan waves, finally spotting him near the improvised dj booth

you follow the direction where seunghan was waving at and there you see the rest of seunghan's friends. though you only recognize one of them which was anton

seunghan ushers you first when you two arrive to the spot where his friends were chilling at

"guys! this is y/n! y/n, meet the guys! that's eunseok, shotaro, anton, and the birthday boy, sungchan" seunghan introduces you and the guys. "there's sohee again you just met him seven seconds ago" he adds, causing sohee to smack him

you wave shyly at the 4 boys before you. even mustering a little "happy birthday" to sungchan, to which he thanks you and tells you to enjoy the night

you've heard of their little circle thanks to seunghan. you knew that wonbin was part of their group but at the moment, he was no where in sight. you pull your hand into the pocket of your jeans to feel wonbin's pen that you have to return

he did say to give it back during this party so you had a reason to go. so where was he?

though it seemed like seunghan read your mind since he was also looking around for wonbin

"where's wonbin hyung?" seunghan asks, looking around

"he was just here a second ago with sion" shotaro says, recalling that wonbin told him that he'd be with sion throughout the night if he needed him

"oh sion's here?! so yushi and riku might be around!" seunghan says all excitedly

on the contrary of his excitement, you were beginning to feel a little nervous at his excitement to meet his other friends. your fear of being left alone by seunghan alongside his friends is starting to ensure

amidst your internal panic, you feel a hand on your shoulder. you jolt, looking up at the person who just held your shoulder. there you see sungchan with a smile on his face, seemingly offering you a drink

"relax! enjoy the night! here's a drink to ease yourself up!" sungchan smiles, handing you a party cup. you awkwardly accept the cup and sip on it a little to show at least some appreciation from the party host for his hospitality

"how about we do shots together as a little ice breaker?" anton proposes, sensing the impending awkwardness filling in the air. after all, it was everyone's first time meeting. at a party at that

the group chorus a yes and they all pass their own cups before getting it filled with drinks

"everyone ready?" shotaro asks, eyeing down everyone's hands that held the drinks

"three.. two.. on-"

"taking shots without me?" wonbin suddenly appears out of no where

eunseok gets cut off by wonbin making his grand entrance. your eyes widened in surprise as you make eye contact with him. although wonbin doesn't express it, he too was surprised at your presence

he didn't think you'd actually go

"wonbin hyung!"

wonbin's little trance gets cut off by seunghan who daps him up and asking him where he was

"i was with sion but i lost him again back there" wonbin laughs, "where's my cup and why are we doing shots?" he looks around seeing everyone (including you) had their own

"just a little ice breaker since we've just formally met seunghan's friend, y/n" sohee says, nodding his head towards your direction

anton, thinking that you two haven't met before, decides to introduce you to wonbin

"so uh y/n! this is wonbin the last member of our little circle. wonbin this is y/n" anton kindly introduces you to the guy you've already met

you let out a little chuckle at the mere thought of the fact that this was probably the third time wonbin has been formally introduced to you. it's kinda funny now that you think about

before you can say anything though, wonbin beats you to it

"we've already met" wonbin says cooly, accepting the cup shotaro gives him

all the guys (minus you and seunghan) look at him weirdly, he met you when?

"they met each other yesterday" seunghan brings up, suddenly laughing at the memory of wonbin being sulky to the guys

you then make eye contact with wonbin again. even smiling a little when you two lock eyes. he may not have said it out loud but you knew what he was thinking with his eyes alone, 'if only they knew'

"let's take shots now i want to party!" sungchan suddenly says, raising his cup up in the air. the rest of you quickly follow suit.

"cheers!" everyone chants before clinking the cups against each other

well, that's one way to start the night...

. . . ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

just like you predicted, throughout the night, seunghan has left you alone

though seunghan's friends were nice enough to talk to you for the first few hours of the night. you got to know them quite well and even exchanged instagrams so you could all keep in touch. who knew seunghan had such funny friends?

but it's not like he meant to do it. seunghan somehow saw his friend soobin amongst the sea of people and decided to hang out with him for a while (with your permission of course)

before he left, he tells you that soobin was the guy he tried setting you up with back then at the club on the first night of your break up. hearing such thing, you smacked seunghan in the chest and apologized to soobin personally for the way you acted that night

to which soobin promptly understood where you were coming from and tells you it was alright and it was quite funny to experience it (you never wanted to die in a hole and kill seunghan on the spot for letting you go through that)

in the end soobin ended up giving you his instagram for funsies. guess you just scored another mutual friend from seunghan on your phone

now here you were, backed up on the rooftop terrace, just watching people mingle with each other, swirling your half empty cup filled with some mixed liquor

you look at everyone on the dance floor all mingling around, seemingly having the time of their lives as they live all carefree. you then get a wave of nostalgia, reminiscing the days where it was you on that dance floor talking to everyone

what even happened?

"what's a pretty girl doing back here all alone?" a familiar voice speaks

rolling your eyes, you turn your head to the side and there you see wonbin with a shit eating grin on his face. somehow wonbin just had a knack of catching you in not so pretty moments. moments like you're alone, going through something, or maybe even both

"very funny haha" you mock, drinking the rest of your drink before putting the cup on the table nearby, "i'm "partying"" you quote

wonbin chortles, totally not expecting that response from you

"seriously though, why are you just alone back here? where's seunghan?" wonbin looks around for your buddy that's no where to be found

"he's with his own friends. he asked permission though if it's okay if they could hang for a bit and who am i to say no? so now i'm here" you say, leaning back on the railings behind you

wonbin hums in acknowledgment. seems fair, it was a party after all

with nothing else going on, he takes it upon himself to hang out with you instead of checking up on the other guests. he then stands beside you, now joining you on people watching

"... uh what are you doing?" you ask, a little flustered that he's suddenly beside you

"chilling" he answers smoothly, "why? don't want me here?" he raises a brow, looking down at you

there's a slight edge on his tone of voice that you aren't too sure if he was serious or fucking around

"o-obviously it's fine! i'm just wondering!" you squeaked, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks in sheer embarrassment. you were on their turf so there was no room to be all bitchy

wonbin laughs at your reaction. who knew it was this easy to make you all flustered

with the way wonbin is acting, you can't help but start to wonder why all this just seems comfortable between the two of you. you haven't been friends with him for a long time for him to be acting like this, the same way seunghan acts with you, but somehow you're okay with it

if it was someone else you wouldn't even spare them a chance. easily shutting them out and telling them to fuck off.

but with wonbin, you just can't help but let him do it. you don't really understand why either. was it the shared experiences? the coincidental late night shenanigans that have occurred twice in a row now?

maybe there was something about him that you unknowingly long for. a sense of calm before the storm

are you looking into it too much? was this the lack of emotional connection that you've been yearning for that you didn't receive in your previous relationships?

halfway through your little trance, you suddenly remembered half of the main reason why you even attended this party. which was to return wonbin's vape

you fish out wonbin's device from your pockets and wordlessly hand it over to him by waving it in front of his face

"woah you really brought it back" he says in amusement, taking a good look at it, "haven't had a hit all day and i was getting a little hangry without it"

"hangry?" you repeat, stifling in your giggle

wonbin scoffs lightly, "you know what i mean" he says, poking the side of your head

"wow" you react, in disbelief with what he just did. did he really just poke the side of your head like you two were chill like that?

wonbin grins at your reaction, obviously having fun with teasing you. he can't tell if it's the alcohol in his system that's making him do this but whatever it was, he feels comfortable and is having the time of his life teasing the hell out of you

"fuck you wonbin" you curse, flipping him off, "i'm gonna need a drink for dealing with you" you breathe out, now grabbing your cup from the nearby table you placed it on

wonbin laughs loudly before motioning you to come with him

"okay let's get some drinks"

with that, you follow wonbin to wherever the drinks were at. you're gonna have to need some if you want to last throughout the night...

. . . ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

it's safe to say that you've lost seunghan now that you're being accompanied by wonbin instead. seunghan did mention to live a little, so here you were, in some party, at the abandoned construction site behind the main rooftop entrance, drinking with wonbin

"i don't usually bring people here cause this is where i sit with my thoughts but tonight's an exception" wonbin says, showing you the view below his building complex

you leaned over the unfinished railings to look at the bustling city. the wind here was cool and breezy. but what takes the cake of this secret spot of his is that the view below is beautiful

"hey careful. this shit's still unfinished" wonbin blurts, grabbing onto your arm, pulling you back a little. you must've stumbled over some concrete blocks causing yourself to lose balance

you let out a small yelp, closing your eyes and bracing for the impact but it never happens. instead you were met with a plush chest and arms around your frame

peeking an eye open, the first thing you see is a red flannel and some necklaces slightly dangling over your face

"i told you to be careful" wonbin grumbles, releasing his grip around you once you stabilized yourself

"i was! you didn't have to pull me back harshly when you knew there were concrete blocks lying around!" you retort, moving away slightly from wonbin. again, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. you have to stop embarrassing yourself like this

wonbin could only laugh at your embarrassed state. he then tells you to follow him again. this time he'll take you to a more safe spot around this abandoned construction site. a place where there were finished rooftop railings so he could ensure your safety since you two were drinking after all

now you find yourselves near an emergency exit

"this is place is a tad bit safer for your clumsy ass" wonbin comments, setting down a bottle of liquor on the ground

you gasp at his comment, putting a hand over your chest

"i am not clumsy!" you defend yourself

"yeah yeah, go tell that to yourself after almost tripping over" wonbin mocks the tone of your voice, smirking at your reaction

deciding this wasn't worth fighting over, you grab the bottle of liquor and pour yourself some and gulp it one go

wonbin makes a gesture that he wants some too but instead of pouring him a drink, you blatantly hand him the bottle so he could pour himself. wonbin scoffs in disbelief and snatches the bottle off your hands while you snicker to yourself

there's a blanket of silence after that. the only sounds you could hear were the cars on the road and the buildings that were still lively at this hour of the night but somehow it's comforting

wonbin was the first one to break the silence

"so how's the party so far" wonbin asks, swirling his cup around

you let out a hum, leaning over the railing as you watch cars pass and go. the night was still relatively young and who knows if you wanted to go home now

"it's okay i guess" you breathe, stealing a glance at wonbin before looking back at the city below. "a little boring but that's on me for not mingling around" you joke

"you want to meet new people?" wonbin questions, taking in your answer

"eh no" you brush him off, "i'm not the type to make friends easily"

"i can tell" wonbin blurts. instantly, you glared at the boy beside you, "what? i'm just saying! it's hard to read you" he claims

you raise a brow at him, "and why would you try and read me?"

"to assess if my judgements are right? i don't know"

"weird answer for a weirdo like you" you counter

wonbin lets out a gasp, "now i'm the weirdo", he points to himself as you chuckle. he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink

"but serious question, what exactly were you expecting tonight?" he asks

good question, you thought to yourself. what were you expecting when you wanted to go earlier? did you want to have some fun? mingle around? find someone to talk to? what exactly did you want out of this?

it's easy to answer 'to have fun!' because frankly, that's why people party in the first place. to have fun. but recalling how the night went on earlier, you were attached to seunghan by the hip. never leaving his side. meeting his friends and sticking with them throughout the night was one thing but did you genuinely have fun?

maybe it really was a mistake going to this party

"to be honest, i don't know" you answer truthfully. "i imagined myself having the time of my life but being here now just feels like i lost that part of me for a long time now" you admit

"but i'm trying. i've been going to classes again, trying new things to at least get that part of me back but i don't know. it feels like i threw myself out and now i'm all lost" you say

a lost cause is what you wanted to say but you didn't want wonbin's pity. hell, you don't want anyone's pity. it's true in a sense that you did lose your sense of self during the duration of your past relationship. it was always him above anything else from yourself. now that you're alone, it now feels like you had no true desire in life

wonbin pushes himself off the ground and stands next to you, leaning back on the railing

"you know, talking to you almost seems like talking to a walking reflection of myself" wonbin comments, taking a deep breath and avoids eye contact

you scoff, "the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"it's a good thing. at least to me" wonbin takes a hit off his vape. he then offers you the device, "want some? looks like you need it" he jokes

you elbow him but take the device nevertheless. wonbin laughs at your not so violent reaction and watches you take a hit, slowly exhaling the smoke out

"if you could change one decision you've made in the past, what would it be?" wonbin asks, finding a way to have small talk

"say no to that one dating proposal" you answer a little too quickly

"damn. you really hated your last relationship, huh?" wonbin reacts. he finds it a little hilarious, he's not gonna lie. though he knows some bits and pieces of your previous relationship thanks to those late night talks you've been having, still he finds it quite funny

"it's hard not to. how about you then? what do you think makes a relationship work out?" this time it was your turn to ask him

from what you've gathered from the time you two have been talking (including that fateful night where you two first met at the same convenience store), you know that he was the one who held on the longest til his ex left him

wonbin sighs, now it was his turn to be put on the spotlight

"i'd say it works if the guy is more in love than the girl" he shrugs. in his defense, it was based from personal experience. he did love his girl more than the girl loved him

you let out a hum at his answer. "i agree" you laugh a little

"well as you know, i was definitely more in love with my ex than he was with me. i was always the one chasing after him despite him being in the wrong sometimes. who knew that shit could burn you out in the long run?" you rant, furrowing your eyebrows together. your eyes then widened when you realized that you're sharing a little too much again. you immediately take a look at wonbin for a brief second to see him looking back at you with an expression you couldn't read. so you poke your tongue out to at least maintain the calm atmosphere without your little rant ruining it

wonbin suddenly looks up at the night sky, "it does get tiring, i'll tell you that" wonbin hums before hanging his head low, "but if you really love them, even if it's tiring, you'd still find a way to make things work"

all of a sudden wonbin chuckles bitterly

"although, sometimes your best is still never enough for them" he murmurs

there's silence after that. he hit that right on the dot. even when you did all you could to at least save your dying relationship, the end was inevitable. after what you went through, you started to isolate yourself from the fleeting feeling of love. to you, love deserves no second chances after giving it your all only to be paid in dust in return

for wonbin, he vows to himself that he will never love another person the way he loved his ex. he now has guarded himself from any potential harm to his state of mind. he can't even say if he's moved on completely because sometimes reminiscing the good ol' days gets to the best of him

does wonbin reflect on it? no. does he regret it? maybe. does he feel bad for regretting it? definitely.

it seems like wonbin has been too engrossed with his thoughts that you had to wave a hand over his face

"wha-" wonbin blurts out, shaking his head to bring himself back to earth

"i said take a hit" you pass him his vape device. now what happens next is not what you expected. you expected him to take the device itself and take a puff

what he does is he wraps his hand around yours and takes a hit off the device with you holding it

maybe it was the buzz of the liquor starting to catch up to you but you swear you felt a jolt of electricity run through your veins the moment his hand cups around yours

it seems like you two froze into place for what seems like an eternity. just looking at each other's eyes while his hand remained wrapped around yours (that was holding onto his device) though, the sound of your phone ringing breaks the little trance between you and wonbin

you instantly reach for your arm back, rummaging through your pockets to find your phone in panic after being brought back to reality

wonbin lets out a chuckle after witnessing you almost dropping your phone when you fished it out of your pockets. without reading the caller id, you swiped left and answered the call

"hello?!" you scream onto the phone unintentionally. you look at wonbin for a second while you wait for the person on the line to reply back

wonbin then reaches for your hand again but this time he takes his device off your hands. you watch him take another long hit before exhaling it over the railing

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" the other line screams back. you pull back the phone as you wince from the volume of their voice. it was seunghan

"oh so you finally remembered me?" you sass, mouthing "it's seunghan" to wonbin who nods and continues to do his own thing

"hey c'mon! it's not all the time i see soobin around. so where are you? did you go home?" seunghan asks over the phone. you take another look at wonbin who was now watching the city below

"no i'm still at the party. just mingling around and shit" you tell seunghan on the phone. well, it's not a lie, nor is it the truth either. you just didn't want to tell him just yet that you were just hanging out with wonbin all this time

"see i told you you'd enjoy yourself! i'm happy you came along. so anyway have you seen wonbin? shotaro's looking for him" seunghan says. your eyes widened, did wonbin deadass just accompany you for no reason at all? he really left all his friends hanging?

"wonbin? no i haven't seen him" you lie, looking at wonbin who just turned around after hearing his name

"oh okay maybe his social battery ran out" seunghan laughs, "i'll meet you back at the dj booth. bye" and with that, seunghan ends the call

wonbin pushes himself off the railing and looks at you before asking what was that about

"seunghan says shotaro has been looking for you" you tell him. wonbin suddenly stretches his arms and rolling his eyes

"of course he is. he can't live without me" he jokes, now putting his arms behind his head. "let's go back?"

"yeah. seunghan's looking for me too" you say, pocketing your phone and picking up your cup from the ground. wonbin follows suit and grabs the bottle you two have been drinking

"should i go out first and then you follow a little later so it's not a little suspicious that we were together?" you hear wonbin ask behind you as you navigate through the abandoned construction site safely

it never really occurred to you that you two had a silent agreement to not let anyone know that you two have been hanging out together nor did the latter even mention about it

strangely enough, you'd like to keep it that way

"yeah so they won't get any ideas. weird how i was just thinking about asking you that" you giggle, looking back at wonbin who was making sure he wasn't stepping on anything he shouldn't be stepping on

"maybe great minds think a like" wonbin laughs at his own joke making you smile but he doesn't see it

you can hear the music getting louder and louder the nearer you two get to the party. you stop by the entrance to the rooftop and take a peek at the corner to check if there was anyone around

"go" you usher wonbin, now that the coast was clear. you can feel his presence behind you. he also peers over to check just in case

"how about you?" he asks

"i'll follow after a bit. just make sure no one's looking when you walk in" you say, slightly pushing him so that he can get a move on

even if his hands were full, he puts them up in mock surrender, "okay"

with that, wonbin takes a look around before seamlessly walking back into the party like he didn't just disappear for who knows how long

now you were waiting for the perfect time to walk back, making sure that you didn't just follow wonbin or whatever. in case there were eyes looking around and all that

and by the time you know it you're back into the party. loud music and people's chatters ringing in your ears. you find yourself carefully walking back to the dj booth where seunghan asked you to meet him at

"where have you been!" was the first thing seunghan says after spotting you making your way our of the crowd. you wave him off, "living life" you smile faintly

"i'm so happy for you bestie! finally living the life you were stripped off!" seunghan dramatically cries, wrapping an arm around your shoulders

you didn't notice but wonbin was nearby with shotaro, eunseok and sungchan. he was looking at the way seunghan was all coddled up on you. he can't help but smile in amusement when he catches you elbowing seunghan in the stomach causing him to release you from his grip and clutching his stomach

"so where were you?" wonbin hears shotaro ask over the music

"places" he answers shortly, pouring himself another cup of liquor

"well it's nice to see yourself finally enjoying life again" eunseok comments, clinking his cup with wonbin's. sungchan agrees and takes note that this was the wonbin they've been missing for a while now

"yep. finally" wonbin breathes out, drinking from his cup

he's not really sure but something in him tells that maybe you had something to do with how he views life these days

his eyes trail towards you and seunghan again. this time you two were drinking together. somehow, someway you meet his eyes again. you slightly raise your cup towards his direction before drinking and looking away

wonbin couldn't help but feel something in his chest. he also raises his cup but you didn't see it. not that it matters anyway. but one thing is sure though, its that wonbin is sure that you are someone who he wants around in his life

92 notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

(𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧) 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐬/𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: Mentions of Davy Jones’ locker, death, violence and piracy (yay!)

a/n: message me/comment if you want to be tagged in any of my posts x

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ENTP 🍁Ravenclaw 📜Chaotic Good 🔮Gemini Sun, Aquarius Moon, Sagittarius Rising

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

How’s It Gonna End by Tom Waits

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・It wasn’t easy being with Jack, then again, it wouldn’t have been easy being with you either -

・Over the years you had gotten into a flow - knowing each other’s quirks, your wants and desires; vices and virtues.

・When other people are around you - that’s when it isn’t easy. Because all they see is two people on a whole other planet - you have inside jokes, lingo, a way of communicating that others can’t comprehend quick enough

・And when Jack gets attention from others ... you have to admit, you do get a little jealous. Okay, a lot jealous.

・Especially when he’s around women, he can’t help but flirt back. And it’s taken a while for him to learn to cut it out

・Captain Jack Sparrow has always been known for his extravagance, his over-the-top nature. And you’re known for your chaos, your unruly nature; and of course your clumsiness.

・But somehow your clumsiness is always connected to luck. Knocking something over will somehow lead to a distraction where you’re able to escape later on.

・You found each other in your youth. Constantly rescuing each other by chance - destiny always found a way for you to run into each other

・The stories you could tell!

・The amount of times you’ve pulled each other from the brink are countless

・Where one went, the other was always soon to follow

・You have no idea how many times you both faced the gallows

・They didn’t seem all that frightening now

・You loved the Black Pearl just as much as Jack. You saw her as your freedom.

・When Jack was pulled from your world into Davy Jones’ locker, you went straight in there with him.

・The Kraken was the easy part. The time spent in that godforsaken desert was hell. Literal hell.

・Unluckily, you didn’t end up in the same place.

・Davy knew Jack would be fine if you were with him, so he separated the both of you.

・And in the time frame, Jack had inched closer to insanity - not having you by his side made his mind plunge into instability

・You thought it was fun ... at first (insanity was/is second nature to you.)

・But Davy had more tricks up his sleeve, ones that he somehow knew would get to you

・Then little crabs started appearing.

“Aw rocks.” You said out loud, moving to lay down and gaze at the perfectly rounded sphere.

“Oh, not rocks. Rocks with legs-”

・And when they moved, you followed

・ “Y/N! Y/N ARE YOU REAL? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ‘ERE?” Jack bellowed from the moving Black Pearl

“YOU JUMPED, I JUMPED.”

“Oh yes, Kraken. I remember now, he was a slimey smelly big thing wasn’t he-”

・You found your way on deck and Jack swooped you into his arms. He held you close against him, holding one hand on the back of your head.

・Now others think it weird, but Jack likes to smell you. So when you were nuzzled in his arms, he did exactly that

・ When you found everyone on the beach, you nearly ran to Tia Dalma. She’s been a close friend throughout the years.

・You didn’t feel any resentment towards Elizabeth. Holding onto grudges didn’t make sense in your line of work.

・And you kept her secret.

・The relationship with you and Jack means you share a lot of the same enemies.

・Barbossa, the man who marooned the two of you on separate islands, had come back to save you from Davy Jones Locker. It made you laugh. You actually audibly laughed when you saw him

・Although you did like Jack the monkey

・Will was ... less than enthused to see you

・Only because he thought you were bat sh*t crazy

・But Elizabeth could only blush - she didn’t look you in the eye until a week later

・You were present during the meeting of the Bretheren Court. And were incredibly excited to see Jack’s father again.

・Back in the day he and yourself hit it off nearly instantly. He thought you would have made a brilliant Pirate Lord, if only you weren’t so clumsy

・To Jack’s disbelief you wanted a war with the East India Trading Company

“They’ve taken too much from us, Jack.”

・Yet again, destiny had spared you. The fight with Davy Jones and Beckett had caused many casualties, but neither you or Jack had been hurt

・You were able to sail away... until Gibbs had fallen asleep and the Pearl was stolen yet again

・Jack has mastered how to patch you up; cuts, burns, bullet wounds etc. In another life, he would have made a great healer. And when you brought how talented he is with remedies and such, he said: “Love, I’m only good at this because I’m looking after you. I couldn’t care about anyone else.”

・Jack likes listening to you read out loud. But most of the time you get bored of the story and start making things up, while still holding the book so Jack has no idea what the real plot of the story is ...

・Many might think you two have a treasure cove of riches. But really you just have a small tockens of each other on your persons

・He has a trinket that you found many years ago in his hair, twisted around a dreadlock

・You wear a ring of his. He gave it to you as a sign of his affection and love. A little like a promise ring

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Drama Queen (Jack) x Drama Queen x3 (You)

Chaotic Dumbass Duo

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (You say to Jack) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (Jack replies to You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

You’re His Lucky Charm

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖:

Love, Pet, Sweetheart, Sunshine.

Jack likes to make nicknames up on the spot as well, especially when he wants to cheer you up. He’ll string two random words together and they may not even be sweet - but the way he says it ... he can make anything sound sensual.

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

Words of Affirmation, Physical Touch and Gift Giving

Jack is big on words. But what really gets to him is when you compliment him - when the words are coming from you, they mean something. People might think Jack is a touchy feely guy; but he’s really not. He’s calculating with how he touches you - moving hair behind your ear, being the big spoon, dancing with you. His favourite love language is gift giving both giving and receiving. He absolutely ADORES presents. Especially all things sparkly.

Tagged: @sardonic-the-writer, @roguesknights.

#jack sparrow #captain jack sparrow #witch the writer's headcanons #jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow headcanons #jack sparrow x you #pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the caribbean headcanons #potc headcanons #potc #potc fanfiction #elizabeth swann #will turner

1K notes · View notes

gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

There's No Escape (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Just when you start to get comfortable in your new lease on life, your past comes rushing back to chase you down. Literally.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: First off, holy shit thank you so much for over 300 notes on Part 1! This community is one of the nicest I've ever been apart of, I appreciate all of you! Again, please excuse any grammatical errors in here. Dinner is officially served!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had slept like a goddamn rock for the last few nights

They were the first nights in three months where you were able to get a full night’s sleep without getting abruptly woken up to Leon touching you. You recall at first it was fun, he was an absolute monster in bed; unfortunately as time went by you realized he was quite literally a monster. Each night that he was home, his sexual advances became more and more twisted. Especially that one time he made you suck the end of his loaded handgun.

You’ll never forget the sick grin on his face as he watched your helpless expression.

You jolt yourself awake and shake your head, dispelling the awful memory with it. You were safe now, well away from him. You slowly sat up and stretched your arms out over your head and let out a loud yawn. You slip out of bed and put on a pair of slippers before walking out into the kitchen. Becky was standing at the island reading the newspaper and chewing on a piece of toast.

“Mornin’!” says Becky with a mouthful of toast.

You give her a nod in response as you make your way to the fridge. You grab the jug of orange juice and grab a cup from the cabinet to fill. You fill the cup before putting the jug back into the fridge.

“Still no sign of him, right?” Becky asks.

“Thankfully no, he’s definitely back at his apartment by now. Haven’t heard a peep.”

You can only imagine how violent his reaction to you being gone was. He absolutely hated it when things didn’t go exactly as he wanted. That’s fine, he can have his hissy fit in D.C.. You took gradual sips from the orange juice before discarding the empty cup into the sink.

“Got work today?” Becky inquires.

“Yeah.”

Becky was able to secure you a tech support job at a law firm for when you moved into Boston. You were extremely grateful for that. Thankfully you had saved up money prior to Leon forcing you to quit your job in D.C., but that money was starting to wear thin. The job was entertaining from what you gathered in the last couple days. Lawyers were extremely tech illiterate to the point where it was almost impossible not to laugh on the phone.

You go back into your bedroom to get dressed into a polo shirt and a pair of jeans with sneakers. You put your hair up in a ponytail before going into the bathroom to put some light makeup on. Work was extremely close by, you could walk to it, which you decided to do since the weather was so nice. You get into your cubicle and start taking calls.

“Did you charge it last night?”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Hi, yes? My laptop won’t turn on.”

“You know what, no I didn’t. I bet the battery’s dead. Thanks!”“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“My mouse doesn’t work.”

“Is it plugged in?”

“Of course it’s plugged in! I’m not an idiot-- oh… wait… it’s not plugged in. Sorry to bother you.”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Found you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as you hold your breath. This has to be some kind of sick joke. You regain your composure and hang up on the caller; it sounded like Leon but you weren’t 100% sure. You try to track the number they called from, but it came up as an unknown caller. Whoever it was, they were using a burner phone number. The phone rings again immediately and you answer it.

“Who are you and what do you want?!” you scream into your headset.

“Whoa hey, what the hell!? I’m calling because my internet’s not working!” they say, the person clearly being a different caller.

You log out of the call queue to collect yourself. You rub your face into your hands. You hear footsteps walk over to your cube and you look up and find your boss standing there.

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry,” you rub your eyes before continuing, “I just had a prank call. Did you try restarting the router?”

“Oh ok, no worries! No I haven’t, I’ll do that now, thank you miss!”

“Everything alright here? I thought I heard you yell,” your boss asks.

“Yeah sorry, there was a prank caller. I think they were using a burner phone to call in.”

“Ah ok, that doesn’t usually happen here but there’s a first for everything. Definitely take a breather before you log back in, ok?”

You give your boss a nod before he walks away. Before logging back into the queue, you look into the call history. Your stomach drops when you see that the unknown caller called your phone directly, not into the tech support line.

It was just a prank caller, don't psych yourself out, you think to yourself as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

There was absolutely no way Leon could have found out where you worked that quickly, it had to be a prank.You log back into the tech support queue and finish out your day thankfully with no other prank calls.

Even though your apartment was a 10 minute walk, you decide to order a taxi instead, the prank call still making you anxious. When the taxi driver arrives, you confirm your address for him and he takes you home, the drive takes less than 5 minutes. You thank and pay the driver and quickly enter your apartment.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon was thankful that you hadn’t turned around and seen his familiar lifted Jeep Wrangler with tinted windows parked across the street from your apartment as he watched you hurry inside. He turned his attention to the laptop he had open on the passenger’s seat. After a few keystrokes, several camera feeds popped up on the screen.

At some point when you and Becky were both out in the last couple of days, Leon had broken into the apartment and installed several hidden cameras. He enlarged one of the cameras where both you and Becky could be seen standing in the kitchen and enabled the audio.

“Hey! How was your day?” Becky asks.

“Eh, it was alright,” you reply, “I got the creepiest prank call today.”

A smirk began to cross Leon’s lips.

“It wasn’t him, was it?” Becky inquires, the concern evident in her voice.

“No way! There is no way he figured out where I went that fast.”

Leon let out a laugh, “Underestimating me is your first and last mistake, dear.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Want me to order pizza when I come back out?” you ask.

“Yeah sure!” Becky replies.

Leon immediately switches the camera feed to one that is inside a vent above the shower. He hears you enter the bathroom and shut the door. As he hears the ruffling of clothes, he begins to undo the belt on his jeans, grasping his hardening cock in his left hand. He sees your arm reach into the shower to turn it on and let it warm up.

If only you knew that you were putting on a personal show just for Leon to enjoy. Picturing your horrified expression only aroused him even more.

Your naked form then came into frame, his cock pulsing in excitement as he began to stroke it vigorously. His eyes were glued to the laptop screen as you lathered soap onto yourself. He began to let out quiet whimpers as he got closer and closer to his release, the whimpers getting progressively louder. Suddenly, with a shudder of his body, he let out a guttural moan and came all over his hand and his jeans. His moment of euphoria was short lived as the disgust of having cum all over himself overtook him. He slammed the laptop shut, grabbed a small towel from the back seat and wiped the cum from his hand and jeans as best as he could before throwing the towel back to the backseat.

His ice cold eyes glare at your apartment door before he starts the engine in his Wrangler, driving off into the Boston night.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You and Becky decide to go out that weekend into Chinatown to get hot pot. Becky knew of a great restaurant called Shabu Zen, she claimed they had the best hot pot in town. You haven’t had hot pot before, so you were going to have to take her word for it.

You both enter the restaurant and the hostess seats you two in the corner. You sit on the side where your back was to the wall, you never wanted your back exposed, ever. Your waiter comes over and takes your order for drinks, Becky ordered a margarita, you simply just asked for water.

“We got through the first week in Boston together!” Becky exclaims, lifting her glass, “a toast to being Bostonians and no creepy ass ex-boyfriends!”

“Hell fucking yeah, my friend!” you respond, raising your glass of water and clanking it against her margarita.

The waiter comes back over, and you both put in your order of broth and meats that you’ll be having for hot pot. You two make small talk about work before the waiter comes back over a short time later with plates full of different veggies, noodles and meats. Another waiter behind him sets the broth on the burner in the middle of the table and turns the burner on.

“For real though, thank fuck you got out of there when you did, I know you haven’t told me everything that fucking prick did to you but… I’m just glad you’re not dead.” Becky states as she starts piling food into the broth.

“I know… I still need to look up a therapist that I can go to so I can move on. I feel like I close my eyes and his face is the only thing I see.”

Becky scoops out noodles, meat and veggies out from the broth and starts eating, “Who would have thought such a hot dude would turn out to be a fucking psychopath.”

“It’s always the ones you least expect, Becky. I should have seen the red flags,” you say as you also scoop food out from the broth.

Your eyes happen to wander around the restaurant to the other patrons as you slurp up noodles; it was mostly younger people with one older couple seated at the table next to yours. Your eyes settle on a dark corner of the restaurant where you see a man seated by himself. You stop mid bite, your eyes locked on the man. You recognize his short dirty blonde hair immediately. His cobalt eyes burned into your skin. He was even wearing that fitted black shirt that you used to love so much. There is no doubt in your mind, Leon is in the restaurant.

Becky notices your freaked out expression immediately, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Much to your dismay, he wasn’t. You watch a devilish smirk spread across his lips before he puckers his lips at you.

You suddenly dig your wallet out of your purse, throwing several twenties onto the table before getting up, “we have to go. Now.”

“Wait, what? What’s going on?”

“No time, we need to leave,” you grab Becky by the arm and practically drag her out of the restaurant.

You both bolt onto the sidewalk and you walk briskly down the street towards the depths of Chinatown, still pulling Becky along.

“Are you going to tell me why you just dragged me out of Shabu Zen?”

You look back and see Leon step out of the restaurant; he looks around and quickly spots you and Becky, giving chase.

Becky, seeing your panicked expression, looks back and sees what has you spooked, “Holy fucking shit how did he fucking find you?!”

“I don’t know but we need to lose him, got any ideas?”

“Yeah, let's get to the Orange line. We’ll lose him in the subway system.”

Becky grabs your hand and leads the way running. You occasionally look back, each time your heart sinking as you see Leon’s face in the crowd, running after you. Having a military background, it wouldn’t take him long to catch up.

Thankfully, you both get to the Chinatown stop for Boston’s T subway system and bolt down the stairs.

“Listen to me carefully, it’s going to get awfully confusing so I need you to follow me closely, ok?” Becky says, looking back as she scans her Charlie card and goes through the gate.

“Yeah, got it.”

Becky throws her Charlie card to you. You scan it and get through the gate and catch up to Becky. You turn around just in time to watch Leon vault over the subway gate with the grace of a panther. Thankfully, the next train was just pulling in as you two got to the train platform, you both bolt inside one of the cars and try to cram yourselves into the most crowded car.

“Ok, we need to get off at Downtown Crossing, then we pick up the Red line to Park Street and get on the Green line there. Then, we get off at Government Center which will then loop us back to the Orange line, ok?” Becky explained quietly.

You nod before scanning your eyes through the car, but you can’t tell if Leon’s on the train, you’re just going to have to assume that he is.

“Next stop, Downtown Crossing.” the T PA system called out.

“Ok, here’s our stop, as soon as those doors open, we make a b-line to the Red line to Alewife.”

As if on queue, the doors open and you and Becky practically launch yourselves out of the car, you don’t bother to look back to see if Leon is following you. Becky has a vice grip on your hand as you both get to the train platform for the Red line. Again luck was on your side, the doors for the Alewife train just started to open and you and Becky dove inside one of the cars and, once again, made your way to the most crowded car.

You repeated this same maneuver again at the Park Street stop and again at Government Center. Just like Becky had said, that eventually led back to the Orange line, which you both took back towards Forest Hills, getting off at the Back Bay stop, which thankfully was close to your apartment. You both ascended the stairs to the street level and stopped to take a breather.

“Holy shit I can’t believe that worked, where do you think we lost him?” you ask.

“I don’t know, once we were on the first train in Chinatown, I stopped looking for him.”

“Me too.”

When you both finally could catch your breaths, you proceeded to walk down the street back to your apartment.

Neither of you would be sleeping that night.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

He lost track of you and your friend after getting off at Park Street. He ascended the stairs to the street, kicking a trash can over in frustration. You were so close to being back in his grasp.

And you would have been if it weren’t for that bitch, Becky. He knew that she smuggled you up here away from him, convinced you to leave him. She filled your head with nasty lies about him, she must have, why else would you leave him? He let his anger boil inside him as he walked down the street. He couldn’t help but notice several women gawking at him as he strolled down the street. He winked at some of them, seeing them visibly swoon at him. Oh how he enjoyed toying with their hearts.

It was a small bit of enjoyment he had since the world started to repeatedly fuck him over. First it was his new life in Raccoon City, then Operation Javier, then the incident in Spain with Los Illuminados. It was a couple years after returning from Spain that he met you at a bar in D.C., you had noticed him sitting alone at the bar and walked over and talked to him. It was the first ounce of normalcy he ever felt in his life since he graduated from the Police Academy. When you two started dating, that was when he decided he was never going to lose you, no matter the cost.

Again, his thoughts returned to your friend Becky. She took your princess away from him.

And she was going to pay dearly for it.

Part 3

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader smut

997 notes · View notes