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in-my-feels-probably · 9 months

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slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Slytherin Boys as Dads

Request: slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Hi! So sorry for the wait, this one took me a while for some reason. I was kinda vague with these, but hopefully you like them. Thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: mentions of bad home lives, insecurity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott:

deathly afraid of being anything like his own family or father. he’d be a little apprehensive about having kids in the first place, but he’d eventually be more open to the idea once you promised to be there every step of the way and take things slow.

the proudest dad ever. the type of dad to clap and cheer once they use the bathroom on their own for the first time. he literally wouldn’t care (within reason) how good they’re doing at a sport or in school, he’s just proud that they’re putting in effort.

he’s got a short temper. i think he’d get a little snappy, and then immediately regret it once the tears started or they got angry and snapped back. he’d put on a brave face in the moment, but he’d for sure cry about it later to you.

he has such a way with words, and he’s so imaginative. they’d ask him kid shit that makes no sense, and he’s just deadpan answering them without hesitation. and it would be like that even when the kids were grown and moving out of the house. he just knows the right thing to say.

wouldn’t want a lot of kids. he’s too easily overwhelmed, and although he’s got the love to go around, he just can’t stomach the idea of being responsible for that many lives. one or two is enough for him, and he’d love them with all of his heart.

Every milestone your little girl met had Theo in shambles. No matter how big or small, he treated every single one of them like she had cured cancer or won an Olympic gold medal. When she started growing more independent and wanting to do things on her own, it wasn’t any different.

Theo came into your room after saying goodnight to your daughter, tears welling in his eyes.

You stumbled out of bed to approach him, holding him steady by his shoulders when he wavered. “What happened? Are you alright, love?”

“She made her own bed,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “She didn’t want me to tuck her in. She said she wanted to try doing it on her own this time. And she did it so well.”

You could feel your heart warm, wrapping your arms around Theo’s shoulders. You gently rocked him back and forth, running your hand through his hair. He pulled back, quickly wiping under his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s just so smart.”

“Don’t be sorry, love. Just wait till she gets to Hogwarts. She’ll be top of her class, just like her Dad was.”

Your words sent him spiraling again, his cheeks paling. You chuckled, bringing your hand up to hook a finger under his chin, turning him to look at you. You spoke gently, giving him a warm smile.

“But that’s not for a long time. We’ve still got years with her before she does something substantial for us to fawn over her for. Let’s not worry about it yet.”

Theo groaned, shaking his head. “I’m always worried.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the faint thump of his heart.

“Did you ever see this coming for us?” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Back at Hogwarts, I can remember wanting a life with you. But this isn’t what I was picturing. I used to not even want kids—Merlin, how could I have not wanted kids?”

You shrugged, closing your eyes and breathing him in. “I always knew you would be a good Dad. I pictured some sort of family with you.”

Before Theo could respond, your little girl came around the corner into your room, immediately running for Theo’s leg. She wrapped herself around him, playfully hanging from his pant leg.

“What are you doing out of bed, silly girl?” You asked, bending down to scoop her up.

“I have a question,” she babbled, absentmindedly reaching her hand up to squeeze your nose.

You laughed, passing her over to Theo. “Ask your Dad. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”

She wrapped her arm around Theo’s neck, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Theo looked down at her adoringly, patiently waiting for her to ask her question.

“Why can’t I see my eyes? I can see your eyes and Mum’s eyes, but not mine. Why?”

You had to stifle a giggle, turning your face so your little girl wouldn’t see you laughing. But when you looked back up, Theo was just smiling down at her, like it was the most normal thing she had said to him all day.

“I’ll tell you, and then it’s off to bed with you, darling,” he explained, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You see with your eyes—through your eyes. That’s why you can’t normally see them themselves. But technically, you can see your eyes. Do you want me to show you, pretty girl?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding excitedly. Theo grinned, chuckling as he looked over at you. He nodded towards the bathroom where the mirror was, shifting your little girl on his hip.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to you, before whisking your daughter off to the bathroom.

They giggled together all the way down the hall.

—

Lorenzo Berkshire:

the sweetest most dedicated man in the early stages. he would NEVER let you do more work than him. you’re not climbing up high, you’re not lifting something heavy, you’re not doing anything that keeps you on your feet. he’s BOLTING to beat you to it.

would give no fucks about gender. i think he’d absolutely adore having a little girl, but a boy is just as good. because he’d get to raise him up into a man the both of you are proud of.

gets overwhelmed easily for sure. would absolutely stress about not doing enough or upsetting the kids, and you’d have to remind him that he’s an incredible dad, and how he’s only human. making mistakes is gonna happen, there’s nothing you can do but keep going and try your best.

100% going all out for any sport/extracurricular they get involved in. he’s their number one fan.

probably the gentler parent. he’d try his best to be stern with them, but he just doesn’t have it in him to upset them. tears would literally break his heart, so you’d probably have to take on the more serious role.

You had two kids with Enzo, a girl and a boy. They adored their father—as they should. He was sweet and loving and hardly ever said no. But that was the problem…he hardly ever said no.

And it got the best of him today.

The kids came bursting through the door, running into the kitchen with Enzo hot on their heels. He was carrying bags from the new toy store in Diagon Alley, a distressed look on his face as your children ran up to you to show you their new toys. You gave them a tight smile, faking enthusiasm.

“Very cool! How about we help Dad take them to your rooms, yeah? You need to eat before you play with them.”

“No,” your little boy whined, trying to dig in the bags Enzo was struggling to carry. “I wanna play now!”

Enzo let out a sigh, his voice strained. “Listen to your Mother—”

“We wanna play!” Your little girl screamed, her little cheeks flushing.

She turned around to root through the bags with her brother, when one ripped and the toys clambered to the floor. They scattered, and Enzo finally reached his limit.

“That’s it!” He shouted, hoisting the bags up to set them on the countertop where they couldn’t reach. “That’s enough. You’re going to eat your dinner, and you’re never allowed to yell at your Mother again! Do you both hear me?”

Your kids stopped in their tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. He might as well have slapped them—that was how they were looking up at him. Like he had hurt them worse than he ever had before. They were being dramatic, of course. You had scolded them far worse than that in their lives. But Enzo was never one to yell. He hardly ever raised the voice around the kids, it hurt him too much to do it. You looked up from their faces to Enzo’s.

And the look on his face was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry,” Enzo stuttered out, unable to say anything else.

You could tell he felt terrible. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands were shaking at his side. You quickly scooped the toys off the floor, shoving them back into their bags. You bent down to speak to your children, grabbing each of their hands.

“Alright…everyone breathe. You two, I’m going to take you to your rooms. I expect you to be ready for dinner in ten minutes. And if you behave—and you apologize to your Dad and I for not listening to what we asked you to do—we’ll let you open up a few toys and play with them later. Your Dad was very nice to get you all of these things, and you both need to act like it.”

Your little ones looked up at the both of you, batting their eyes. You could feel your anger slip away as they watched you, their little cute faces scrunching up.

It wasn’t fair—they were too adorable to be mad at.

“We’re sorry, Mum,” your little girl said.

Your boy nodded. “Yeah, we’re sorry Dad. We didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know, my loves,” you smiled, squeezing their hands. “Neither did Dad. It’s alright…everyone is just a little tired. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Keep that attitude up, and your Dad and I will be happy to play with you after dinner.”

Your children giggled and ran off to their rooms with bright smiles on their faces, like nothing had happened at all.

Your husband, however, was steel reeling. As soon as they were out of the room, you turned to him. His face was full of regret, his eyes sad. You frowned, opening your arms.

“Come here, sweet boy,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You did so good. You’re okay.”

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he choked out into your shoulder, holding you tight.

You just shook your head, shushing him. “You had every right to. I love them to death, but they can be brats—and they know their Dad loves them too much to tell them no. You saw them, Enzo. They’ve already gotten over it. Don’t beat yourself up over this, love.”

Enzo sniffled into your shoulder. You held him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth as he leaned into you. It was quiet while you looked over his shoulder to the bags still on the counter, toys spilling out of the top of them.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re such a good Dad. They’re gonna be glued to you for weeks after they open all of those.”

“I’m sorry you had to take the lead. I should be better at this by now. I just can’t handle it when they look at me like that.”

You heard a clattering, and looked over to see your kids in the next room, politely sitting at the table. They were giggling to themselves, on their best exaggerated behavior so that they could earn back time with their toys. It was adorable, and it brought a smile to your face. You looked up to see Enzo smiling as well, despite his anxiousness.

“How do they look now?” You asked, reaching for his hand. “Because to me, it looks like they’re on their best behavior so they can play with their lovely toys that their even lovelier Dad got for them. It looks to me like they want to play with their Dad so bad, that they endured—Merlin forbid—washing their hands and setting the table just to do it.”

Enzo chuckled, squeezing your hand. “It does look like that, doesn’t it? Well, let’s not keep them waiting, darling. We have bags full of toys and two lovely children waiting for us.”

—

Mattheo Riddle:

girl dad girl dad girl dad

absolutely gonna have a meltdown raising little girls because it means he’s gotta start kicking some little shit’s ass for hurting one of his daughters. you’d seriously have to hold him back once they start showing interest in dating, because he’s not ready for them to be that grown up.

absolutely an affectionate parent. hugs and kisses before bed, he didn’t make the rules he just enforces them. he’d want his kids to feel like there was never a point in their life where they were too old for a cuddle.

deathly afraid of fucking them up. he’d rely on you in the early stages to help him along, but he’d really get the hang of it fast. later on in their lives he’d wonder what he was even so worried about.

would absolutely adore you after you give him kids. he would never whine about being stuck with diaper duty or homework because you already did so much giving him his girls. it’s only fair that he takes care of them—including you.

During Christmas break, your girls came home giggling. It took you days to get them to finally tell you what was going on, and you made them swear not to tell their Dad what happened. They had both met someone they liked over the term and had asked you to help them owl them.

“As a woman, I’m thrilled,” you explained, speaking in a hushed whisper in the kitchen. “And I want to hear all about it. But as your Mother, I’m begging you not to tell your Dad. Do you remember what First Year was like and you two came home talking about all the cute boys at school?”

Your eldest groaned in her chair, looking at her sister. “We’re silent till summer, got it?”

“Got it.”

—

You woke up the next morning to shouting coming from the kitchen. You rushed out of bed to find your two eldest sitting at the table, their heads in their hands. Mattheo was standing across from them, your youngest in his arms innocently looking up at him.

Your eldest looked up once you walked in. “Help. I’m begging you.”

“Mattheo,” you scolded, giving him a stern look. “They’re our girls—they’re smart, and they’re ready for this. You should be happy they came to one of us first.”

“But they’re my little girls,” he whined, shutting his mouth when your eldest piped in.

“We’re not little, Dad. Not anymore.”

You watched his face fall, his chest tightening. You gently took your youngest from his arms, passing her to her sisters. You motioned to the living room, nodding your head.

“Go sit down for a bit, girls. We’ll be right out, yeah?”

They nodded, filing out together. You could hear them whispering as they sat on the couch, giggling. You turned back to Mattheo, gently guiding him backwards until he fell into a seat. He looked up at you with a pout, heaving out a sigh.

You smiled down at him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Do you remember when we met at Hogwarts? We were so lucky that I was smart enough for the both of us. Who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into if I let you lead.”

“We got into enough trouble,” he murmured, his tone sour.

You rolled your eyes, reaching down to grip his hands. You leaned forward, your knees knocking with his.

“Listen to me. Our girls are smart—they’ve got their Mother’s intuition, thank Merlin for that. And one day, they’re gonna grow up. But that’s a far day from today. They’re not getting married, love. It’s just a crush. They want to send an owl.”

You squeezed his hands, nodding for him to turn his head to look out into the living room. He turned to see your girls all sitting on the couch together, the youngest in the eldest’s lap. Your older girls were making faces and sounds, trying to get the little one to laugh. She was looking up at her sisters with wide eyes and a bright smile, breathy chuckles pulled from her chest. You smiled, turning back to Mattheo.

You hooked your finger under his jaw, turning him back to face you. “They’re still your little girls, Matty…they’ll always be your little girls. But we have to help them grow into women. And they need their Dad to help them do that.”

Mattheo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

“You’re my best girl, you know that?” He murmured into your stomach.

A warm feeling spread through your chest as you smiled. Your daughters interrupted you before you could speak, the middle one shielding hers and the youngest’s eyes.

“Ew! Stop being gross, Dad!”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning back to look up at you. He glanced over at his daughters, absentmindedly reaching for one of your hands. He interlaced your fingers together, letting out a—this time, content—sigh.

“You’re right. It is going to be a far day.”

—

Regulus Black:

i feel like regulus would be a very chill parent.

i don’t think he particularly likes children, but he would love his own. he’d adore them when they were all little and cute.

he definitely would be really good at disciplining them. he never has to raise his voice or get physical, he just gives them a look and calmly explains to them what he expects, and they’re content to listen to him. it’s so different than how he was raised, and he would promise you that he’d do better with them than his parents did with him.

he’d be really afraid of hurting them like his parents did. you’d have to assure him every time he felt like he was doing a bad job with them.

when they’re older, they’re totally momma’s boys and girls. when they’re children they couldn’t get enough of him, but as they get older they’d start leaning towards you. he wouldn’t even mind the favoritism, because you’re his favorite too, of course his kids would be smart like their dad.

You and Regulus had a little boy and a little girl together, the boy a few years older than the girl. Sometimes your little boy would play a little rough with her, not understanding that he was too big to be getting that excited with her.

You’d catch them in the yard, him chasing her around while she dawdled and squealed. You watched through the window, calling Regulus over to come watch. Regulus smiled as he came from your bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window. But your little girl tripped after a while, and your boy was quick to tumble after her, laughing as he fell. He was still giggling when he sat back up, but she sat up with tears streaming down her face.

You quickly rushed out the back door, panic settling in your chest. “What did I tell you about playing rough with your sister? She’s too little, darling!”

You tried your best to remain calm, but you just couldn’t do it. Regulus, however, was as calm as ever. He followed you out the door, walking over to scoop up your daughter. He sat down in the grass with her, cradling her in his lap.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked her, gently shushing her. “You’re alright, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

While you were too busy calming yourself down, you failed to pick up on the shock on your little boy’s face. He was wide eyed, taking rapid breaths. Once your girl was calm, Regulus held his arm out for your boy.

“It’s alright. Everyone is fine. We just have to be careful, yeah? Can you remember that?”

Your boy nodded, and Regulus gave him a grateful smile, pulling him in for a hug. You watched in awe, finally pulling yourself together. You took a breath, sitting down in the grass next to your kids. Your little girl was quick to switch to your lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her tight to you, smoothing your hand over her hair.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you said, reaching your free hand for your boy’s. “You just scared me. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Regulus nodded, giving you a smile before grinning down at his kids. “Lots of excitement this morning, huh? Barely nine in the morning and we’ve already given your poor mum a heart attack. I vote we spend the rest of the morning inside, yeah?”

Your kids nodded, standing up and running inside like nothing had happened. Regulus stood after, offering his hands to you before pulling you up and into his chest. You pressed your cheek into him as you hugged him, letting out a breath.

“You’re a good dad.”

Regulus smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re a good mum, darling. The best.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope you liked these! Thank you again for the request, I really enjoyed writing this :)

#harry potter #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader

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xlatiwritesx · 4 months

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hi there hope you're having a great day! it's my first time requesting in general and was wondering if i can request lando norris imagine? after both him and the reader decided to hard launch on social media, he brought her to the race for the 1st time and fans absolutely adore her in general. hope this makes sense thank you sm! (reader is a very private person in general)

Mine, Not Theirs | LN4

A/N: sorry if it took me long, but thank you for this request, Anon! This is so cute 😞❤️‍🩹. I hope you like it!!

Genera: Fluff

Words: 1.9K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

…

"OH MY GODDDDD"

"So she is the one"

"Now we know the reason behind all the smiles during this season's races"

You smiled at all the comments left under Lando's post. You were sat on your hotel room’s bed, hugging your knees and smiling like an idiot at your phone for the past hour.

"Had I known you'd be smiling like this, I would've hard launched us sooner" you heard him speak, but your eyes kept staring at your picture that he posted. The picture that sent the internet into a spiral.

It was simple, you kissing Lando where you assumed his lips would be under his helmet, holding the sides of it. It was all loud and clear. Your smile on your exposed face, his name and number on the helmet. His McLaren suit. It was all out for the world to see, and it made your heart twist in the happiest ways.

"Hey, so" Lando walked closer to you, resting down on the edge of the bed and finally having your attention.

"Now that the whole world knows, I want you to come to races with me, starting with tomorrow’s" he confessed. Your smile slowly faded and you looked away from him.

He knew proposing such a thing when you've just publicized your relationship wouldn't be easy for you. You weren't the most outgoing or the best at dealing with all the press and fame that came from being with someone like Lando.

You looked back at him and saw him already losing hope. You had to try. He deserved at least that. He's been nothing but respectful and supportive of your wishes to keep your relationship private, but now things changed. You wanted to try for him just like he did for you.

"Okay" you said simply, not tearing your eyes from him to watch his reaction. He looked at you blankly.

"Wait, really?" A smile broke on his face. You nodded.

"Like 'hey guys this is the love of my life joining me for today's race' okay?" He asked again, carefully. You laughed and nodded again to reassure him.

"Yes!" He punched the air and you stood up, still laughing.

"Finally" he spread his arms, looking up at the ceiling.

After enjoying Lando's little celebration, you ran to your suitcase. You had to find something to wear. This was the first time anyone would see you. Not to mention the entire world.

A dress? Pants and a shirt? Classy? Casual?

You sat in the pile of your clothes, finding something suitable. Your eyes landed on a white top. Denim mini skirt. You narrowed your eyes. Smiled.

"These two with Lando’s McLaren bumper jacket" you announced to no one but yourself.

The next day, you started getting ready for the race. You curled your hair, did your light make up to perfection, and put on the outfit you picked out the night before.

You got in the car with Lando who was fully aware of your nerves ever since you woke up. He held your hand and that was enough to boost your confidence.

When you reached the circuit, your heart began beating at a dangerous speed. Lando's hand tightened around yours and he looked at you before getting out of the car. You could already see the many reporters there to document everyone's arrival. Your breath got heavier.

"Hey. Eyes on me, okay?" Lando whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and relaxed a little.

"No matter what anyone writes on those stupid platforms, you're mine, not theirs, okay? I'm proud you're the one I'm brining to today's race" he reassured you, hoping it would make you feel even more relaxed. He knew what it was like to be under the spotlight and having his every move scrutinized. It can get hard at times.

You smiled and looked down. He kissed your cheek before opening the car door, the commotion outside no longer muffled.

"Let's go" he ushered and you followed. Still holding his hand.

Even though it was very much light out, the camera flashes were still blinding. You kept your head down because it would've been overwhelming to look straight ahead. You held on to Lando's hand as he lead you to the paddock.

Once inside, you finally look up at the many faces there. Drivers, their families, managers, friends, girlfriends.

Some smiled. Some scrutinized. One Aussie accent cheered.

"Hey!" He greeted excitedly, opening his arms wide to give you a hug. You quickly let go of Lando's hand and hug Oscar.

"It's finally good to see you here" he said excitedly when you pull away. You smiled at him, eternally grateful for making you feel so welcome.

"Thanks, Oscar" you replied shyly. You could feel Lando beaming next to you.

"He goes crazy when you're not around. All he talks about is you. Hopefully he won’t be so annoying today since you’re here" he lowers his voice, playfully punching his teammates arm next to you. You laugh.

Oscar starts talking to Lando about the track and what to be expected. Lando wraps an arm around your waist and you listen to them talk.

It's a miracle that you were actually into the races and Formula 1 in general. You wouldn't have lasted too long with Lando if you weren't. It was his career after all, so naturally it was what he talked about most.

“Okay. We gotta get to the cars now. Shit’s about to get serious” Oscar clapped. Lando nodded and looked at you.

“You’ll be good here? Or you want to watch the race in the garage?” He asked you gently. You looked around at the drivers leaving, all their friends and family choosing to stay at the paddock. You turned to him and smiled.

“I’ll be fine around here. Maybe get to know some new people” you told him and he nodded letting go of your hand to hold your face and kiss you cheek.

You blushed as he walked away, turning to wave at you one last time.

“Take care, Lan!” You yelled and he turned to face you, walking backwards for a few steps.

“Anything for you, my love!” He shouted back, causing people to look. Your heart raced, but your eyes were only on him as he turned back around to continue walking next to Oscar.

You sigh, hoping people would actually be nice. Walking around the paddock, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn quickly, faced with a girl a little too pretty.

“First time around here?” She asks. You smile and nod.

“Great! I get to show you around!” She says excitedly, pulling your arm and walking inside.

You’re welcomed by about 5 more faces around a table. People your age. Girls. You felt overwhelmed by their stares, but you promised to give this whole thing a chance.

“We’ve got a McLaren girlfriend everyone!” She announces and everyone starts cheering. You laugh at how silly it seemed, yet so sweet.

“I’m Lily by the way, your co-McLaren-girlfriend” she finally introduces herself. Your smile widens, feeling a sense of belonging somehow.

Lily guides you to the table with five chairs already occupied, you and her filling the sixth and seventh spots. Everyone seemed to be your age. Maybe one or two years younger or older.

“First race nerves?” Another girl asked, taking a sip from her glass. You nodded, still smiling.

“We were all there. It all seems intimidating at first, the cameras, the questions, the race itself!” Another one continued. You frowned a little, nodding along.

You realized you hadn’t said a single word. You really weren’t the best at small talk, but you owed it to them to at least say a yes or no.

“I’m Y/N, by the way” you said finally and they all smiled, acknowledging that new piece of information.

“You should he added to our group chat. We find each other every race day, catch up and have some free food, you know” Lily nudged you and you laughed a little. You hand her your phone, allowing her to do whatever.

When she hands it back to you, you see that you’ve been added to a group chat titled “the gas station ⚡️”. You frown in confusion and look up at them.

“The gas station?” You raise a brow and some of them laugh.

“We give them fuel, now don’t we girls?” One of them raised her brow and you just covered your face and laughed. A little too hard.

“We’ve got the same sense of humor. We’ll go a long way” a girl on your right patted your back as you collected yourself.

“Ugh” you sigh, finally able to hold in your laughter.

When the race starts, you come completely undone. Screaming with everyone and hugging anyone around when necessary. Lando finishes with P-3 and you couldn’t wait to celebrate that with him at the podium.

“You get to celebrate on the podium!” Some of the girls scream and it was just then that you realize how amazing this whole experience has been.

These girls have never met you in their lives, your boyfriend just won against all their boyfriends and they had every reason to be full of themselves, but they were nothing but sweet and lovely to you, making you feel so welcome and for the first time ever since you started dating Lando, you find someone who’d be as excited for him as you. Because they know what’s it like to watch the love of your life win at something he’s passionate about.

“Go go go!” They push you out so you could get to the podium for celebration.

You all get to the track to celebrate with your significant others. You spot a pretty face and curly hair in the crowd. For once, you really don’t care that everyone’s watching. That this could be on live television. You just run, jumping in his arms. He holds you tightly, spinning you around as his sweet laughter fills your ears, muting any other possible sound around you.

When Lando finally puts you down, you basically scream in his face.

“P-3, Lan! That was amazing!” He laughs at your reaction and you laugh with him.

“I knew you were here. I couldn’t let you down” he says and you hug him tightly. He hugs you back.

“You’re my everything. I do this for you” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. You close your eyes, praying your heart won’t explode from pure happiness and content.

Had you just known how amazing everyone would be, you would’ve come sooner. Had you known how much it meant to Lando, you would’ve come even sooner.

You pull away and kiss him, making up for all the time you spent feeling nervous. For not shouting about this from the rooftops. For staying behind on all the fun and welcoming, lovely souls you you met today.

“It seems that today’s race gets a fairytale ending for Lando Norris and his girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N”

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jungkookstatts · 5 months

Text

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

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astonmartingf · 2 months

Text

SLOWLY ; LH44

— after all the years you’ve been together with lewis as friends, you realize what lewis means to you

amgf mentions of break downs and panic attacks, crying, realizing feelings are overwhelming and it's just too much for reader but don't worry it's fluff 🫶 enjoy because wow i loved writing this, also tried my hardest not to make this like my other lewis smau and i hope i did that. anyways, enjoy!!! the next part we're going somewhere special 😉👍

masterlist

“Nico! You’re here at Lewis' party? I missed you so much, I have no one to talk to— Lewis is busy yet he’s always around. What if… what if I start seeing him in some type of way? Or am I drunk? I’m not drunk aren’t I? Maybe I am… a true friend wouldn’t have feelings for a friend right? OH MY GOSH! What if it was Lewis all along? I mean, I don’t mind, look at him? But… ARRGGGHHH! I have so much to say, but I can’t say it. Not to his face… I really think I’m starting to like—”

Do you have an unhealthy attachment to the voicemail Nico sent you four years ago of your drunken confession to admitting to having some type of feeling for your friend, Lewis Hamilton?

Yes.

Does Nico constantly remind you of the said confession four years after?

Yes.

Is it haunting your mind? It’s haunting your mind, soul, and heart— because as much as you hate to admit it, the feelings are starting to follow you, four years later. All your drunken word vomit to Nico was slowly following you throughout the years and it’s only then that you realize the culmination of all your deepest and darkest thoughts about Lewis.

That after all those years of friendship and platonic love… it might be him.

As time passes by you’ve fully integrated into yourself that Lewis would be an integral part of your life, in your formative years you stuck by each other up until the occurring present, and soon you figured out you’d still be friends with him in the future. He was always there, it was understandable.

But it wasn’t until you fully grasped that he was always there, and he might never go away.

“So have you thought about it?” Nico breaks your train of thought, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter’s playroom wearing tiaras and tutu skirts, playing tea party with the teddy bears Lewis gifted them last Christmas.

“I’m not thinking about Lewis.”

“That was an awfully quick answer, didn’t even mention him in the slightest.” You blink, dropping the “cup of tea” handed to you. “What did I say?”

Nico sighs in front of you, picking up the plastic tea cup, placing it back on the table, whispering something to his daughter before removing the wand from your left hand and whisking you out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” Nico asks, pulling one of the throw pillows into your lap, eagerly waiting for your response.

“It’s scary— these feelings I’m bearing. I don’t think I can handle it, I want them gone.” Your words are void of emotion, but your eyes tell a different story as tears start pooling your eyes, heavy and slowly out of breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

You shudder as Nico pulls your arms together to your side, forcing you to face him— you stare at his eyes, slowly blurring at the tears blocking your view. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t want it. It’s all too much for me, this— this feeling, it’s uncomfortable, I don’t like it.”

“It’s new, but it’s still the same. It’s still the same Lewis and he won’t ever change.” Nico tries to comfort you, but you’re spiraling way too quickly to make sense of it all.

“No it won’t! I like him, things will be different from then on, can’t you see? I’m ruining it all, and once Lewis realizes that he’ll leave me for being a bad friend. It’s all my fault, I like him and I hate myself for it. I can’t believe it, all those years will end up with me being alone all because I like him. And now, I can’t even— I don’t want to look at him. I’m disgusted and disappointed at myself for even thinking that I have a chance, every moment I’m with him I look forward to the next, and it’s all new to me, I don’t like it Nico!”

You catch his daughters peeking from the playroom, fully unaware of the volume of your voice. They probably didn’t expect their aunt to break down in their house on a random weekday, yet here we are. You laugh bitterly, wiping the tears in your face. “I’m scared Nico, I don’t know what to do.”

Nico holds his breath out nodding slowly, comforting you, “Yes, I understand… it all seems scary, these big feelings— it’s new. But, remember it’s still Lewis. I don’t think he would want you to be all alone as well.”

It was the last straw, the cumulation of all your feelings summed up to one— after Nico left and Lewis being avoidant about the situation, it left scars around you. You realize not to bring it up, and thinking of your own feelings and over analyzing down the “what could have beens” in your head, you went ahead of your own thoughts, slowly pulling you in a never ending spiral of destruction.

“I’m home! And guess who I met on the way?” Watching you bursting into tears on the couch in front of Nico, still adorning the tutu skirt and plastic tiara on top of your head was not the sight Lewis and Vivian were expecting when they came in.

Nico put his hands out defensively, “It’s not my fault— okay maybe I was part but I promise you I was just helping her. Not helping her cry, I just said some things that made her emotional— okay no. It wasn’t my fault I promise you, YN was just saying something and I said it wasn’t true, I just assured her. I promise I didn’t make her cry, she did that to herself.”

You burst into laughter all whilst rubbing your eyes dry, “Hi Vivian… Lewis— I swear it wasn’t him. It’s all just me being silly.” Nico gave you a pointed look, assuring you your feelings are very much valid and not silly, but you just shake your head in dismissal.

Lewis approached you, slowly wiping the tears of your face and pulling onto the strings of your heart. If you had any more tears left to cry you would’ve bursted then and there again, but you wouldn’t do that in front of Lewis. “Are you sure? Or are you just saying that because we’re here? I’m sure Vivian doesn’t mind if you tell us the truth, did Nico make you cry?”

You laugh resting your face onto the palm of his hands, “He did make me cry, but I assure you it was out of the goodness of his heart. It was either me crying or possibly passing out, I’d rather cry my heart out.” The mention of almost passing out leaves Lewis more worried than Nico being the reason for your tears.

“Darling why? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?” Go home. Home being Lewis’ apartment just a floor above Nico's. As much as you want to rest, close your eyes, and forget about all of this, you couldn’t bear being alone with Lewis yet.

You shake your head, “No… I want to play with the kids, Nico pulled us out to talk for a moment and then I had this breakdown, I want to stay I promise. It might help distract me from my own thoughts.”

Lewis, still wary, lets you off to play with the kids as he helps Vivian and Nico in the kitchen. “So… care to tell us what happened?” Nico presses his lips into a thin line before shaking his head.

“Sorry but this is about YN, if you want to know you ask her yourself, I doubt she wants to talk about it yet but don’t worry. It’s nothing alarming, I promise you— she just needs time to think about it more.”

Not convinced, Lewis presses on the issue, “She’s okay though?”

Nico laughs, “She’s more than okay! I think it’s only going to get better from here on. It was just an enlightening time for both of us, more for her, but don’t worry Lew, things are looking up from here on.”

Sitting with the kids as you continue your interrupted tea party, they shower you with hugs and comforting words before instructing you how to play tea party with them. Peeking from the door of the playroom, you catch a glimpse of Lewis in the kitchen with Nico, not before sending a small smile and waving in your direction.

You smile back at him, and to yourself. Nico was right.

It’s still Lewis— things may be looking fast for your feelings, but one thing’s for sure. You’ve been slowly falling for Lewis since then.

#f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine

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communicationthroughlyrics · 14 days

Text

There's No Hope In Endless Winter

Natasha has been gone on a long mission, so when she comes home, she just wants to spend time with you. But, you have news for her.

A/N: Yeahhhh, sorry bout this one- I also couldn't seem to come up with a decent summary sooooo...yeah. It's angsty and not really happy at all. Just kinda sad, all the way around.

TW: Panic/Anxiety, Depression, Reader has a medical emergency

Word Count: 4.5k

With a ghost-like silence, Natasha Romanoff floated into the bedroom of her shared New York apartment. It had been three long months since she had been on her no-contact S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, jetting her across the world to track and assassinate a major drug kingpin after infiltrating his cartel for vital information. She could hardly contain her excitement to see your face again, to feel the warmth of your body in her arms. The room was pitch-black, but even in the darkness, she could make out the familiar outline of their bed. You must have fallen asleep hours ago, presumably exhausted from your work as a personal trainer.

Natasha's muscles ached from the long flight and the countless hours of physical exertion during her mission. She stripped off her clothes, revealing her toned, scarred body, and crawled under the sheets. The bed's softness and the sheets' coolness felt like heaven after so many nights spent on hard mattresses, back seats, and cold floors. She snuggled in close to you, breathing in your familiar scent, and let out a contented sigh. Nat buried her face into the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh. Even though she knew that you were fast asleep, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in your shared space.

Natasha being gone always sent your emotions in a spiral. The anxiety and panic that she felt on any given day only worsened as time went on. Your constant worry for your wife would typically result in you holed up in Natasha's room at the compound, drowning yourself in Natasha's clothes, burrowed into her bed until she returned. It was actions like this that had Wanda and Clint checking in with you regularly when they weren't on their missions.

It was one of these check-ins that finally forced a hand for you. Wanda had stopped by, worried because you, her best friend hadn't been responding to her messages or calls. When Wanda went to your gym, the manager said you had been canceling all your appointments. This was highly unlike you, as you had been known as a reliable, punctual trainer. Wanda's attention was piqued.

"What do you mean, she's been canceling?" an incredulous tone came from the brunette.

"She hasn't shown up for any of her clients for the last week and a half," the manager said, shrugging helplessly. "I've tried calling her, but she never picks up. She left a note on her desk, and has called all her clients herself, telling them they can schedule with someone else."

"When was her last session?" Wanda probed further.

"Monday," he stated flatly, as he was walking around wiping down some of the equipment. "She was training with one of her regulars and passed out. We sent her home after she refused to take an ambulance. We asked her to stay home for a couple of days, rest, and relax. Apparently, she needed more than that."

This concerned Wanda, so she decided to check on you. She thought you had been doing better in Natasha's absences. As she approached your room, she could hear the soft snores coming from within. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door, revealing you curled up in a ball on the bed. Your usually neat hair was a messy tangle around your head, and you were wearing one of Natasha's oversized shirts. Seeing her friend like this tugged at Wanda's heartstrings.

"Hey Y/N," she whispered, stepping into the room. "You okay?"

You let out a soft groan but didn't stir. Wanda walked over to the bed and gently nudged you awake. "Hey, wakey, wakey. It's me, Wanda. Honey, what's wrong?"

You mumbled something incoherent before burying your face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. "I can't do this anymore," you finally manage to get out. "I miss her so much."

Wanda sighed, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"I know you miss her, Y/N. We all do. But you can't let it consume you like this. You're not being fair to yourself. Natasha would want you to take care of yourself and be strong." Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you. You're not eating right, you're not sleeping, and you're not working out. You're not the Y/N I know."

You sighed, looking out the window to avoid the green orbs that were looking straight back at you. "I know," you curl into yourself further. "But, I need her here Wands. I'm scared and alone."

Wanda frowns, sitting down on the bed next to you. "You're not alone, Y/N. You've got all of us. We're your family. We're here for you." She reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it. "You know that, right?"

You look over at her, your expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I know." You take a deep breath and wipe your eyes.

"Now, Y/N. When was the last time you ate more than a protein bar or a banana?" Wanda asked, looking at the fruit peels in the trash and the wrappers on your nightstand. "Your boss told me you fainted at work."

You shrugged, "I'm not sure. A few days ago?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's it. You're coming with me. We're going out to eat. You can't keep living off of protein bars and bananas. You need real food." She helped you up off the bed and led you to the bathroom to wash your face.

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel right."

"You're not feeling right because you're not eating right," Wanda replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on, let's get some food and then we can talk about how you're going to get back on track with your training. You're better than this, Y/N." She stops when she realizes that you're standing firm in the middle of your room. You look pale, eyes sunken in, and like you haven't been sleeping.

"That's not what I mean, Wanda."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...off. Not just because I'm not eating right. Something...else. It's like..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression concerned. "Y/N, do you think you might be coming down with something? You seem to be feeling under the weather lately."

"Maybe," you mumble, rubbing your arm. "I don't know. It's just...weird."

"Tell me what your symptoms are, Y/N."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around how you've been feeling of late. "It started when I was in the middle of a training session..." you started.

Wanda's eyes widened, "What? You kept going even when you didn't feel right?" You nodded, and her frown deepened. She led you back to the bed, so you could sit down.

"Do you have a fever?" she asked, feeling your forehead. You shook your head. "What about chills?" She glanced at the air conditioner, which was blowing cool air. "No, I guess not."

"Not a fever, but I've been getting terrible night sweats."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Night sweats? That's not good."

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just not myself, Wanda. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What else have you been feeling?" she asked further, rubbing your knee comfortingly.

"My muscles ache all the time. And I'm just...tired." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Even when I sleep, I don't feel rested."

Wanda frowned. "This doesn't sound good. You should probably go see a doctor." She paused, looking at you with concern.

"I'm scared, Wanda."

Wanda took your hand and squeezed it. "Hun, it's just a doctor's visit. It'll be ok." You shook your head, just wanting this conversation to be over. "You probably just caught a bug or something."

The next day, the two of you made your way to the doctor's office, where Wanda sat with you through the entire vitals process. The nurse turned to you after gathering some information and asked you if you wanted Wanda there during the following line of questioning.

"No, that's fine," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed.

"So, what brings you in today? Your notes on the check-in sheet are pretty vague."

You took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. "Well, I've been feeling really tired lately. Like I can't sleep, even when I want to. And my muscles ache all the time. It's been going on for a few weeks now, and it's starting to get to me." the nurse jotted some things down, before allowing you to continue.

"I have been feeling sluggish and sore for 2-3 weeks, I just thought it was me pushing my workouts too far at first."

The nurse nodded sympathetically and continued her questions. "Have you noticed any changes in your appetite or weight?" You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit to Wanda that you hadn't been eating right. "Well, I haven't been eating as much as I should have, but I don't think I've lost or gained any weight." The nurse made some more notes. "Well, Y/N, it does look like you have lost some weight since your last visit 4 months ago. Have you been experiencing any night sweats or fevers?"

You shook your head. "Just the sweats, but not as bad as they used to be." You glanced over at Wanda, who was looking at you with concern. "I've been feeling...off, you know? Just not myself."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes," you stutter. Wanda's eyes shot up at this admission. "I was helping one of my clients use the pulldown machine, demonstrating what I wanted them to do." the nurse continued to take notes, indicating for you to go on. Wanda shifted in her seat as you continued. "I felt a grab in my underarm like I was using the machine wrong," you sighed. "The pain continued throughout the day, and wouldn't go away. I didn't think anything of it till I got home."

"And when you got home, what happened?" the nurse prompted.

"Well, I felt sore all over, but especially my chest, for some reason," you started, Wanda covering her mouth as you recounted what happened. "So, while I took a bath to try and loosen up, I checked both armpits to see if there was something I was missing. I kinda probed and kneaded at my underarms, and felt a large bump, here." you lifted your arm, indicating where you felt the lump.

"And what did the lump feel like?" the nurse asked, scribbling more notes.

"It wasn't hard or anything, but it was...different," you said, struggling to find the words. "It just didn't feel like the rest of my skin." You glanced at Wanda, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and concern. "At first, I thought it was just a knot or something, but it's been there for days now, and it's not going away."

The nurse nodded, making some more notes. "I see. Well, I'm going to have the doctor look at this when we're done with your vitals. Just give me a call if there's anything else you think might be important."

As the nurse left the room, Wanda grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, hun, I'm so sorry. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought it was just a knot or something. I didn't realize..." Your voice trailed off as you fought back tears.

The examination room door opened, and the doctor came in. "Y/N, hello," he said, offering his hand. "I understand you've been experiencing some discomfort. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see what we can do."

You related the story again, feeling embarrassed but relieved to have someone who seemed to take you seriously. The doctor listened carefully, nodding along, and then asked to feel the lump in your armpit. "Hmm...I'm going to need to get some tests done to determine what's going on here. In the meantime, I want you to rest as much as possible, and avoid any strenuous activity until we know more. Okay?"

"Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and fear.

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. We're running your blood and plasma panels, and took a sample from the lump in your underarm." He stood, reaching out his cold hand for you to shake. "We'll run these preliminary tests, and call you with the results."

You nodded, still feeling a little uneasy. As you stood, the weight of the situation began to settle heavily in your chest. You glanced over at Wanda, who was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, clearly upset. "Are you okay?" you asked her.

"Honey, I should be asking you that," she offered you a weak smile, helping you out of the doctor's chair.

As you made your way out of the clinic, Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "I'm going to be right here with you, okay? No matter what it is." You nodded, grateful for her support.

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Is there really no way we can get a hold of Natasha?"

Wanda sighed, resting her head against yours. "I've been calling her all morning, but she hasn't answered. I even sent her a few texts, but when she goes no contact, that means no contact."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken rule. Even though you knew it was for her safety, it still hurt that you couldn't talk to her. You felt so alone like you were the only one going through this.

"I'm terrified, Wanda. I've never felt like this before."

Wanda hugged you tighter, her warmth offering some comfort. "I know, hon. I'm scared too. But we're going to get you through this. We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it. You hear me?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Wanda."

The sun was starting to peek through the blinds when Natasha finally stirred. She pulled you in tighter, realizing you felt considerably thinner than she remembered. You were seemingly dead to the world, breathy snores coming from you as you tossed and turned. Natasha decided she would surprise you, so she quickly rose, kissing your forehead before running to the shower to clean up.

She knew she'd have to tread carefully when she emerged, but the anticipation of seeing your face light up was too much. As she dried her hair, she slipped on her tank top and shorts before padding over to the bed. You were still fast asleep, so she decided to head down to the kitchen, starting breakfast so you both could enjoy each other's company over a warm meal.

Coffee brewed, she laid out a spread of fruit, toast, and eggs. The scent of food wafting up the stairs drew you out of your slumber, unfortunately making your stomach churn. You wondered why Wanda was making you some food so early in the morning.

You padded into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and were greeted by the sight of Natasha, your Natasha, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She smiled at you, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Good morning," she purred, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "I missed you, babe."

You returned her smile, albeit with an empty one. "Missed you too," you mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Smells great." Natasha frowned at the lack of emotion from you, immediately becoming concerned.

She poured you a cup of coffee and set it in front of you, then sat down at the breakfast bar, watching you carefully. "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You don't look so well." You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Natasha frowned, not quite convinced. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." You looked up at her, feeling instantly guilty once you saw her expression.

"I'm sure it's nothing, really," You started. "I just...I had some tests done while you were gone."Her face softened as she reached across the counter to take your hand.

"What kind of tests, sweetheart?"

"I don't want to spring this on you right now, Nat. You just got home."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything, babe. I'm here for you, through thick and thin." Her eyes pleaded with you to confide in her, and despite your best efforts to keep her out of the loop, you found yourself wanting to tell her everything.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "It's not something I want to talk about right now, but I will. Just...not today, okay?"

Natasha nodded, understanding that you needed time. "Okay, hun. Take your time. We can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, why don't we enjoy breakfast together? It's the least I can do while you're going through this."

"That's okay, Nat. I'm not very hungry. But you can have whatever."

She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "Are you sure? I made plenty."

You nodded, forcing a smile. "It looks great, though. Thanks, Nat." You worked your way slowly to the confines of your bedroom, stopping to look at your washed-out appearance. You were pale, your cheeks somewhat hallowed. The dark rings and bags under your eyes made you look like a member of the Addams family.

Natasha followed behind you, still in her tank top and shorts, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to help you get ready for bed? Maybe take a nap with you?" she offered, her voice soft and gentle. You shook your head. "No, I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll be okay." She frowned, but nodded, knowing that these long missions were always rough for the both of you, and you often needed your own space. As you lay in bed, awaiting the call from your doctor, Natasha called Wanda.

"Hey Wands, it's me."

“Nat! Oh, my goodness it’s good to hear your voice, darling!” she started. “I bet Y/N is so glad to have you home.”

“Actually, Wanda, that’s why I’m calling.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Wanda replied, "Oh? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I wanted to check with you," Natasha began, taking a deep breath. "Y/N and I have been together for a long time, you know that. And we've been through our share of ups and downs. But something is going on right now that I feel she's not telling me, and I'm really worried about her."

There was a moment of silence on the line before Wanda spoke. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"I just know her," Natasha replied, her voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She's distant, and I can tell she's not eating. It's like she's carrying a weight on her shoulders that I can't even begin to understand. I just want to help her, you know?"

Wanda was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "I understand where you're coming from, Natasha."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming, Max."

"Because there is, Romanoff."

Natasha winced at the use of her last name. She knew Wanda could be annoying that way, but it still hurt sometimes. "I know Y/N doesn't want me to know or worry right now, but I need to help her. I'm her partner, her support. I can't just stand by and watch her suffer in silence."

There was a long pause on the line before Wanda finally spoke. "I understand that, Natasha. You're a good friend and a good wife. And I know you'll do whatever you can to help her through this." Her voice softened. "But I also want you to understand that this might not be the best time to push her. She's been through a lot, and she needs some time to process everything on her terms."

Natasha sighed, a deep pit forming in her stomach at the thought of what could be going on. "Wanda?" A silence followed before a hum indicated Natasha to continue. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Oh, you know," Wanda replied lightly, her tone belied by the worry in her voice. "The usual. Just the constant threat of nuclear war, a power-hungry megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and a team of highly skilled operatives trying to keep the world safe while balancing their personal lives."

"Wanda, that's not what I meant."

"I know, Nat. I'm just trying to make light of a very serious situation. Y/N's been keeping a lot of things bottled up. She needs time to process everything, and I think she's afraid that talking to you will make it all real. She needs you to be supportive, but she also needs her space."

There was another silence on the line before Natasha spoke. "I understand. I'll give her time, but I'm here for her whenever she's ready."

"That's all you can do, Natasha. That means a lot to her, I know it. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Max."

Wanda's voice was soft, bidding Nher a good day. Natasha could hear the genuine concern behind it. She knew that Wanda would be there for her and Y/N, even if she wasn't always the most subtle about it. They were both so different, but they had been through so much together. They had become a family of sorts, even though they were all from different worlds.

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness, like she was floating in the dark, searching for a lifeline. But she knew that she had to be strong for Y/N, even when she felt like she was about to crumble herself. Setting her phone on the counter, she put away all the food before heading towards the living room, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, contemplating what you could possibly need to tell her. After what felt like hours, she went to the bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Hun, do you mind if I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a pause, and then she heard the click of the door opening. Natasha stood in the doorway, taking in your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"I, uh... I was just about to take a nap. Do you want to join me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to the bed and sat down gently beside you.

"I would love to, sweetheart," she breathed deeply, reaching her arm around your shoulders. "But first, I need to know that you're okay." The statement makes your heart clench, knowing that you are worrying Natasha after such a long and strenuous mission when she should be relaxing and enjoying her time with you.

"I'm... I'm as okay as I can be, I guess," you mumble, your voice still hoarse from earlier sobs. "It's just... a lot, you know? A lot to process." Natasha nods, pulling you closer as she wraps both arms around you.

"Darling, what is a lot to process?" Natasha's voice was soft, almost tentative, and you could feel her heart beating against your back as she held you close. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before speaking. You were spinning your cell phone in your hands, nervous to tell your wife what happened while she was gone.

"Let me start at the beginning, Nat." you lay your head on Natasha's shoulder, ready to detail all that led up to your phone call this morning.

As you speak, Natasha holds you close, occasionally kissing the top of your head or running her fingers through your hair to offer comfort. She listens intently, her expression shifting between surprise, confusion, concern, and anger as you recount the events that unfolded while she was gone.

When you finish, there's a long silence as Natasha processes the information. You can feel her heart racing in her chest, and she seems to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, "Oh, sweetheart." Her voice is full of empathy and understanding, but there's also a note of worry. "What did the doctors say was the result of your tests?"

Your eyes tear up, as your lip quivers. You get up and go to stand across the room from your wife, afraid to let her see you so vulnerable, so weak. "I have breast cancer, Nat."

Natasha's face falls, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh, Y/N," she whispers, taking a step toward you. "My baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." Tears begin to stream down her face, and she reaches out to hold you, but you flinch, taking another step back. "I'm here for you. No matter what. I love you, and I'm here to help you through this. In sickness and in health, remember?"

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. "I just... I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to fight this? And what about us? What about our future?" Your voice breaks on the last word, and you sink down to the floor, buried in a ball, unable to hold back the sobs that have been building inside you since you first heard the news.

Natasha rushed to your side, quickly scooping up your body and holding you impossibly close. "Honey, our future isn't in question. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispered into your hairline, kissing it.

"But, what happens if you get sent out on a mission again? What happens if you don't come back to me, Natasha? I can't do this without you."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, holding you as close as she possibly could. "Y/N, you are my whole world. I would never abandon you. You are my priority, now more than ever. We will get through this together. No matter what. I promise." She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I know it's scary right now, but we'll find the best doctors, we'll get the best treatment. And we'll fight this together. You're stronger than you know, and I'm right here by your side, supporting you every step of the way."

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, and leaned into her embrace. "I'm scared, Natasha. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave us."

Natasha pressed her lips to your forehead, her breath warm against your skin. "I know it's hard, baby. But you're not going to leave me. You're going to fight this, and we're going to fight it together. We're going to beat it, okay? She held you there for what felt like an eternity, rocking you gently back and forth. "We're going to fight this together, you and me. We're going to be strong, and we're going to get through this. I promise you, Y/N.“

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fluff

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sturnioloshacker · 7 months

Text

back shots - a vinnie hacker short smut

a/n: requested by @louloulemons-blog; lowercase intended

cw: praise kink, unprotected sex, smut, cumshot, squirting, slight dirty talk. this is an nsfw short, everything written is fictional. interact or don’t, i’m not your mother.

summary: your boyfriend vinnie hits it from the back

“mhm, vinnie fuck! you’re so big, making me feel so full!”

i feel vinnie’s cock pounding my walls, my arousal just dripping everywhere from how deep inside me he is. his tip is hitting my g-spot, making me see the stars and moon and everything else in between. all i can do is moan and whimper as he drills his girth inside me. no words, just sounds. meanwhile, vinnie is just spitting pure filth to me as he goes to work on getting me to my orgasm that is oh so close and right on the edge.

“feels good, princess? you like the way my cock feels inside you?” vinnie asks through gritted teeth.

“yes, vin!” i whine.

“yeah? i know you do, you dirty girl.”

vinnie continues to make me see stars. my head feels dizzy and my legs feel numb but all this adrenaline keeps me moaning and whining like a bitch in heat as he hits my spot so hard, fast and deep. his tip continues to attack my g-spot, making my pussy clench around him. the squelching wetness of my arousal being tossed around inside me has vinnie groaning in pleasure, knowing that he’s close to making me lose all control and all feeling in my body.

“vin, vinnie, vinnie fuck you’re gonna make me cum. i’m so close oh my god,” i cry out to him.

“cum for me, you dirty slut. i wanna watch you drip down my cock. cum.”

with one more hard thrust, my body loses all sense of control and I’m sent into a spiral. i cry out in pleasure as i feel myself squirt all over vinnie’s cock. my body spasms and i’m sent crashing into the bed. i go all numb as vinnie pulls out and cums all over my back and ass. He slaps my ass before getting up to grab some towels to clean our mess up.

“you did such a good job, baby. i’m so proud of you,” he says, cleaning his cum off my back.

“thank you, vin. can i have a taste?”

“fuck, you’re so hot it’s killing me!” he groans out as he swipes his cum up with his index finger.

he brings the finger to my mouth as i suck his cum off before swallowing it. he groans once again and we both look down as his cock stiffens up.

“round 2?”

“round 2 it is! but this time, i take control.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader

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nickfurysrighteye · 4 months

Text

college au!chase davenport x fem!reader PART 2

summary: after your kiss in the library things between you and chase get a lot more..intense

cw: NSFW!! male masturbation, oral + fingering (f! receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), moaning kink (idk if there's a proper name for it or if it's even a thing but oh well), use of pet names (ex. baby, love), dirty talk, cumming inside.

words: 5.2k

a/n: this is my first time writing something this smutty so i hope you like it :) if you missed the first part, clik here

MDNI!!!

after your "study session" at the library you were left wondering if chase felt what you felt, if that kiss is haunting him like it does with you. it's the only thing you can think about. during lectures, while you study, while you're talking with your friends, the only thing going through your head is that kiss. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands all over your body giving you that tingling sensation.

the fact is, that kiss is not only haunting chase like it's haunting you, but it has become an obsession. he can't stop replaying that moment in his head and his imagination is taking over, making up fantasies about fucking you at any time in any place. he can't no longer study because his mind is filled up with images of you naked laying on his bed moaning out his name as you cum on his face while he's eating you out. he likes to imagine your tits bouncing as you ride his dick, your wet cunt spilling cum all over him.

it's perverted but he can't help it, he gets so hard at the thought of cumming inside of you his dick aches. he lays on his bed every night with his eyes closed imagining fucking you over and over and over again while he pumps his dick with his hand. "fuuuck..y/n please..oh my god..holy shit" he whimpers and moans while thick loads of cum cover his hand. he never had sex but he also never thought about it like this until that kiss with you in the library.

your number saved on his phone stays untouched, he's too scared to text you or call you. if he has these kind of thoughts while you're not around he doesn't want to know what his mind will come up with once he's with you.

chase's torn though, he's scared but doesn't want you to think he doesn't like you. one afternoon he decides to text you.

"hey y/n it's Chase, i'm so sorry about not texting you sooner. i'd really love to see you." once the text is sent he throws his phone on the bed, he's so scared you'll be too mad at him to even respond to his text.

his phone chimes. it's you.

"hey chase, I'd love to see you too. mind if I come over tonight?" oh my fucking god she wants to see me he thinks, he really didn't expect you to be this calm.

"sure, why don't you come over around nine thirty?"

"perfect i'll see you later :)"

at nine o'clock the doorbell rings and Chase opens the door to find you standing there.

"hi" you smile.

"hi, come on in."

"i'm having deja vu" you laugh trying to shake off the tension. you hope he doesn't sense how nervous you are, and if he does you hope he's as nervous as you.

"would you like some tea?" chase ask kindly as he walks to the kitchen.

"sure, thanks." you follow him. "where's your brother?"

"oh adam went out with his friends, honestly i have no idea where he is but he won't be back soon." his back's facing you as he prepares the tea, boiling hot water already in the kettle. you lean against the counter.

"so... we're alone?"

"yeah, i thought it wouldn't be a problem considering what we did when we were alone last time." he looks at you with a smirk while handing you a mug. you try to hide your smile. you go sit down on the couch and chase follows you, sitting down next to you. he places his mug onto the coffee table.

"look i don't wanna ruin this already but there's something i wanna talk to you about. about the library thing..i- i liked..kissing you.. and i would have continued what we were doing but i panicked and just ran out and i was too scared to call-"

"chase." you stop his spiral "I really liked kissing you too." a soft smile appears on his lips as he look down embarrassed.

"sorry, I'm nervous. i just like you. a lot."

you put down your mug and get a bit closer to him. "i like you too, a lot. since we kissed i couldn't stop thinking about you. actually i've never stopped thinking about you since i first talked to you." you stop for a moment, gazing at his features once again. it all comes back again: the warmth, the ecstacy, feeling his touch all over you, how his lips felt so familiar onto yours, like they had always belonged there.

it's not easy, explaining the longing desire not only your body but also your mind has for him. any experience, any connection you had with anyone else before compared to him becomes dull, vain, shallow. you only shared a kiss and it's eating you alive.

your hand finds it's way onto his neck and pull him closer. this time he kisses you more roughly, with more passion. his hands are quick to travel all over your body again pulling you even closer. all of chase's thought are about having you as close as possible to him, he has been longing your warmth for days. he takes your leg and brings it over to his other side so that you're sitting on top of him. his kisses get sloppier, messier, his tongue savors yours like he's been starved for weeks. he grabs your ass, making you whimper a little.

"god you're so cute when you do that."

his lips quickly crash back onto yours and he holds you even closer making you giggle into the kiss. your heart is palpitating and your body gets hotter and hotter as your tongues swirl together. slowly, you start moving your hips, grinding against his groin, making chase moan. you can feel his pants getting tighter as his dick gets harder with your every move, you can feel his hard tip pushing against your clit through your pants. your lips gradually move from his lips to his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as you pick up the pace with your hips. the fair scent of his cologne inebriate you as you suck and bite at his skin, leaving little red and purpleish spot on his neck.

chase pushes back his head, soft moans come out of his mouth as his breath becomes shorter. this is better than any scenario he imagined for this night, it would be even better if he gets to act out the fantasies that had been taunting him since the last time you met.

"you don't know how much i wanted this." his whisper's followed by a soft grunt.

"there's so much more i can do to you if you want me to"

your hands slide down his torso, getting closer to the waistband of his pants. clarity hits chase for a brief moment and all of a sudden he feels hesitant. he fantasized about doing certain things to you but he had never done it in real life. a wave of anxiety takes over him. what if he can't make you feel as good as he wants you to? what if he can't do it at all? you move your head away from his neck and go to kiss him on the lips again but you see the doubtful look in his eyes.

"chase, did i say something wrong? are you ok?" the last thing you wanted to do is make him uncomfortable.

"i..uh.."

"we can stop if you want." you start lifting your leg to get off of him but chase stops you.

"no i don't wanna stop. it's just that i..uh..i've never done it before. i actually never done any of this before."

you laugh softly "does that mean i get to be your first?"

you're laying on his bed, chase's on top of you, you feel the warmth of his body heating you up, he's leaving faint kisses all over your neck and collarbone. your fingers intertwine and you get lost in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

chase lowers one of his hands to undo the button of your pants, he slide them off your legs. he stops for a moment to admire your body, feeling your curves with his fingertips, causing you to have chills running down your spine.

he hooks his fingers to the sides of your panties, his eyes glued to the wet spot in the middle.

"may i?" he looks up at you for approval. you nod your head so he gently slides them down your legs, tossing them aside. then, he spreads your legs a bit more to fully marvel at your wet folds, touching them lightly with two fingers.

"can i eat you out? please?" you never had a guy staring at you with those lustfull eyes begging you to eat you out. "yes, yes please."

chase then quickly presses his lips onto your soaked cunt, brushing his tongue against your wet lips. he whirls it around until he finds your clit, your heart racing as soon as he hits the spot.

"is this ok?" does this feel good?" he stops to look at you when he hears a faint whimper coming out of you.

"it feels really good please keep going." your fingers find their way through his soft brown hair, messing it up and tugging lightly at his scalp. chase keeps pressing onto your sensitive clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it.

"oh my god chase" your moans awake something in him, making him go faster and harder. he can't help but groan into your cunt, you just taste too good. he gets so much pleasure from just tasting you, he would have never imagined your cunt being so addictive.

you moan and whine, feeling your orgasm grow in your lower belly, but you don't want to cum just yet. while his tongue is focused on your clit, chase's fingers feel the wetness of your folds, then he carefully slides two fingers in. slowly he starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside you. your cunt feels so tight around his fingers, the only thing he thinks about is how good it would feel to have it wrapped around his dick.

each curl of his fingers sends chills down your entire body, like electricity running through your veins. clear, slick fluids covering them more and more with each thrust as his tongue brushes against your bud. the silence of the room is filled with your desperate moans, at this point you're not even trying to hide how good it feels having him between your legs.

the sweet sounds escaping your mouth fill him pleasure. his pants have become so tight around him he's just craving some release. he can feel precum leaking from his tip, soaking his underwear, as he grinds against the bed while his face's buried in your cunt, lapping up all your juices like he has been dying of thrist.

you can't take it anymore, you just want to have him. you need him. you need to feel him inside of you. you want to fuck him until he begs because he can't take it anymore.

"chase please i need you..please chase fuck me" you moan louder and louder, your cunt pulsating as you get closer and closer. suddenly he stops, taking out his fingers, licking them clean. the absence of his touch is making you ache, your body needs more of him. it needs to feel more of him. he takes off his shirt, showing off his toned body, his pants hang lower from all the grinding so the v line of his hips is showing. your eyes scan his body, going lower and lower, admiring all of his features. the faint line of light brown hairs guides your eyes from his belly down to the waistband of his underwear showing from his jeans.

chase notices you're staring; he chuckles "what?"

"nothing.. it's not every day i get to see a guy with a body like that between my legs, so i wanna enjoy the view." you lightly bite your lower lip, your words make chase laugh a little more as his cheeks become a fair red color.

chase leans back down to kiss you ardently, hands traveling up your shirt, cupping your breasts. he takes the shirt off of you, having you now fully naked on his bed. he couldn't ask for a more beautiful view. his eyes land on your round tits, they're even better than he imagined, so soft and full.

"you're so fucking beautiful." he dives into your neck, leaving a trace of harsh kisses, licking and nibbling the soft skin. your hands find their way to his bulge, applying enough pressure to make him groan.

"ugh fuck – i want to fuck you so badly" he moans into your neck as he holds you closer.

you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper "then take your pants off."

now chase's lying on the bed, completely stripped, his long, thick dick in your hand throbbing and soaked with precum. you tease him by rubbing it against your folds, wetting his tip.

"please y/n, please"

"you want me to ride you? you want me to make you feel good chase?"

"yes please y/n, i want you to make me feel good please ugh –" his words turn into moans as you slide your cunt against his length and slowly grind the tip against your clit, getting him all nice and wet.

you decide it was enough with the teasing so you take his dick and slowly insert it inside you, taking it all inch by inch.

"oohh fuck —" he hisses, you take your time starting to pump his dick inside you, fully adjusting to his length. you start to find your rhythm, slowly going up and down, moving your hips, savoring every movement, every sensation having him inside you makes you feel. chase's hands travel up and down your thighs and caress your warm skin. he moves them upwards and grabs firmly at the soft skin of your ass, making your hips move at a quicker pace. although he loves how you're making him feel so good, making him feel a type of plesure he never experienced before and could have never experienced it without you, he needs more.

"ugh — your pussy feels so fucking good" he lets out, his eyes close for a moment and he lets his head go even more further into the pillows. this still isn't enough though. his body yearns for more. he plants his feet firmly on the bed so he can prop his hips up and push you even harder down his dick, now he's fully guiding you up and down while gripping your ass so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a red mark afterwards. he hits your sweet spot so hard you can't help but moan and whimper, completely melting as he thrusts deeper into you. those harmonious sounds that leave your pretty lips make him spiral; his ears have never been blessed with such lovely sound before this very moment, he wants to give you even more pleasure just so he can keep hearing the sweet noises you make for him. he frees one of his hands from your hips and wonders down to where the two of you are connected. he place his thumb onto your sentive clit, rubbing small circles.

the moans become even louder and he can't help but listen, completely in awe. the fact he can give you this much pleasure feeds his ego in a way he could have never expected. you sink into him and suddenly he wraps an arm around your body, keeping a tight grip onto your side. a thick white ring forming at the base of his dick, now the whimpers and the moans mixed with wet sounds.

"—shit i'm gonna fucking cum - fuck chase oh fuck – oh my god "

"yeah baby just like that — cum on my cock just like that ~"

a wave of electricity passes through your body as you reach your climax, as chase still pushes your hips up and down to fuck you through your high you let your body relax onto him. his grip turns into an embrace, protecting your body from the cold air of the room. chase moves his hand to your cheek to move away some strands of hair that covered your pretty fucked out face, placing a gentle kiss onto your lips while the two of you are still connected at your core.

"let's..slow down for a minute..ok?" words escape your lips between breaths while a soft smile curved your lips.

"we can take all the time you want baby" chase caresses your pink, warm, cheeks and kisses you gently, moving his lips delicately. it's different from before; this time it's not passion what you can perceive into the kiss, but rather love. it's a kiss to make you feel taken care of, to show to you you're not just a piece of meat to him. no guy who only wanted you for your body would kiss you the way chase does and he wants to be sure you feel that with each and every movement of his lips.

he gracefully turns you around so that you're laying on the bed below him, still caressing your skin and leaving soft pecks onto your lips, cheeks, neck and collarbone.

"you wanna keep going?" you look up at him with big shiny eyes. he nods and places himself at your entrance, your cunt's still wet and puffy. he pushes back in and starts to thrust with his hips gradually finding a steadier rhythm. as he slides back and forth he kisses you tenderly but the more his pleasure grows the messier the kisses become. an arm swiftly moves beneath you, his palm open against your back, drawing you closer to his body and elevating your hip to thrust even deeper. he touches your sweet spots again and low, soft moans come out of you.

the rush your moans give him feel is unbelievable. they turn him on so much. he picks up the pace, panting and groaning as he feels your tight walls wrap around him, clenching each time he hits your favorite spot.

"please chase don't stop – ugh how can you be this fucking good —" your words feed his ego so much his lips curl into a smirk.

"if you don't want me to stop, let me hear those sweet sounds you make f'me –"

chase lifts his body up and spreads your legs to bring your cores closer and thrust harder. "spread your legs f'me baby ~ like that, wider." chase's hand travels from behind your back down to your clit and begins to rub it in circle motions once again, giving you that heavenly sensation.

"fuck! – chase –"

all of a sudden, you hear a muffled sound of keys rattling in the distance, followed by the sound of the front door being shut closed. a dulled voice starts echoing through the hallway.

"shit your brother's home" you're quite surprised by his early return home, it can't be later than eleven.

adam enters the apartment, throwing his keys on the little table next to the front door.

" – what did you want me to do man? i wouldn't have left if your friend wasn't a piece of shit! –" he spits his words angrily at the person he was talking to on the phone "– what does that have to do with anything? dude if you don't want someone flirting with your girl don't fucking bring her to the party! whatever man i gotta go, i'll see you tomorrow." a deep annoyed groan leaves his mouth as he falls back on the charcoal colored couch, letting his head fall against the cushion and rubbing his tired eyes with his fingertips. his eyelids fall heavy, his head hurts a little bit from the couple of drinks he had at his friend's place so to calm the throbbing adam stays there lying against the cushion.

despite your concern, chase doesn't stop thrusting into you for a single second, with the same force, trying to savour the pleasure. his finger's still rubbing small circles around your clit, waves of pleasure come crashing into you with every move, your cunt getting more and more wet and making his dick slide in and out of your needy hole with more and more ease. it was aphrodisiacal for him, seeing you like this, almost as if you were a drug: legs spread, tits bouncing back and forth with every thrust..although his favorite thing is seeing your cunt all stretched out by his cock, wrapping it all and making it so so wet, milky fluid spilling out of the sides every time his thick cock makes his way into you. on top of all of this, he's the one getting you this wet, making you feel so good you moan his name. except that now instead of the sweet sounds he likes so much, all he hears are soft whines muffled by a pillow you keep close to your mouth with your hand.

"why so quiet now huh?"

"your brother's gonna hear us."

"you think i care? it's not like he worries about noise when he brings girls over while I'm home" he leans closer to your ear "also there's nothing that turn me on more that hearing your sweet voice moaning my name" his lips leave hot kisses on your neck as he whispers "so please love let me hear how good i make you feel" he grabs both of your wrists with his left hand, pinning them above your head so that you can't cover your face and he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

"ugh — chase -"

"yeah like that keep going – louder" the thrusts get harder and quicker.

"ugh chase – oh fuck ugh–" you raise your voice even more, the pleasure is becoming so much you feel another orgasm approaching.

"fuck y/n – you're gonna make me fucking come–" he frees your wrists and instead wraps one arm around you, crushing you with his body and placing the other hand on your puffy clit again.

"oh please don't stop don't stop don't stop ~"

"ugh 'm gonna fill you up – you're so fucking tight you feel so good baby ~"

the loud sounds the both of you make are muffled by the locked bedroom door, but it's not enough to make them unable to hear.

adam's eyes open again, he fell asleep briefly and somehow wakes up with an even bigger headache, so big his ears must have started hearing weird things... like the sounds coming from his brother's bedroom? no it can't be, he thinks, chase never has girls over, is he watching porn? adam waits a few moments sitting still on the couch, then his gaze falls on the two full but cold cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. confused, adam starts scanning the room with his eyes for other unusual signs: a leather jacket hanged on the coat rack, along with a scarf and a small bag, both of which are neither his or his brother's.

more muffled sounds come from behind the closed door "chase please –"

a disgusted expression falls onto adam's face when he realizes what's happening "oh my god! are you kidding me!? ugh so gross!" he brings his hands to his ears and walks away to his room, the more he tries to not hear the more disgusted he gets. adam shuts the door of his room loudly, making his presence clear as if you didn't already know he was home.

chase’s face is buried into your neck, kissing it and breathing in your scent as he gets closer to climax. at this point, his thrusts have become so quick and messy he's barely pulling out before he pushes hard back into you. he's inebriated. your legs, wrapped around his waist keeping him close, tremble each time he pushes into you and graze your sweet spot with the tip of his dick. moans come out of your mouth one after the other against his ear. your hands are placed against his back and you're unconsciously digging your nails into his skin, slowly dragging them down and leaving red marks that are emphasized even more by his fair complexion. he's definitely going to brag about them later. your mouth's wide open when you feel your walls clench against him, breath hitching with his every thrust, and suddenly the pleasure overwhelms you, hitting you hard as you cum for a second time. moans becoming cries of plesure filling the room when your orgasm drowns you and draw chase even closer to the edge. he can't no longer contain himself and with loud groans he spills thick long ropes of cum into you. he's moaning, swearing, spilling out incoherent half sentences while still thrusting into you fucking the both of you through your high.

when it wears off, chase gradually slows down until he finally stops and catch his breath. your heart's beating so fast you can feel almost jumping out of your chest, you feel your tired legs ache the moment you let go of chase's waist and relax them onto the bed. still all inside you, chase rests his body onto you, buring his face into the crook of your neck once again.

"holy shit –" his voice is soft and quiet since he's still catching his breath. his words make you chuckle and he can't help but smile against your skin. he could listen to your laugh forever.

chase lifts his body up and pulls out of you, letting the white fluid spill out of your puffy hole. "i'm gonna go get something to clean you up with ok? i'll be right back." he smiles softly with his rosy lips, then leans down to place a gentle kiss yours while caressing your warm cheek with his thumb.

"okay." you smile back at him.

a beam of light shines through the drawn curtain and touches the bare skin of your face and shoulders, the warmth is comforting. you can feel arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead as you wake up and your eyes adjust slowly to the light. you and chase lie skin to skin, both of you only wearing your underwear. being this close to him, you can feel his sweet-smelling scent with each breath you take.

"good morning" chase's voice is lower and a little raspy "did you sleep well?" he delicately moves little strands of hair out of your face with his fingers, then places them onto your satiny cheek.

"yeah. i really like your voice in the morning." he laughs softly at your compliment, his smile is so contagious you can't help but giggle with him.

"thank you" he says with his low voice, "are you hungry? i can make you something to eat if you want."

"sure"

"alright, i'll go to the kitchen real quick, I'll be right back." he places three pecks on your face: on your cheek, then the corner of your lips and then finally your lips. then, chase gets out of the bed and throws on a grey short-sleeved tshirt that was lying around, just to wear something more than only his briefs. he heads for the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind him.

he finds adam already up and dressed, standing at the front door about to leave.

"what are you doing up so early?" adam asks him with a slight surprise in his tone, despite being him who usually wakes up late.

"i could ask you the same question. where are you going?"

"i was gonna go have breakfast at the café down the street, didn't wanna disturb you and your...friend. 'm not really used to being the odd man out."

"yeah, I guess that doesn't happen a lot." chase finds the role reversal pretty ironic and kinda hard to believe, he didn't think there was ever going to be a situation like this.

"what about you? what are you doing?"

"oh i was gonna make y/n something to eat. she's still in bed."

adam starts to chuckle at his brother words "chase, really? you're making her breakfast?" the innocent smile that was once plastered across chase's face fades away "you're so naive it's adorable."

"what? i wanted to do something nice for her."

"those kind of things are boyfriend things, you don't do that with a one night stand. you never give a girl boyfriend treatment when you're not the boyfriend. the way this works is: she comes over, you hook up then leave her out the front door when you're done."

"well..what if i don't wanna do that? what if i wanna give her the "boyfriend treatment" because i would actually like to be her boyfriend?"

adam laughs loudly like chase just asked him the dumbest question in the world, which to him sounds like it. "like you would ever date y/n. she's waaaay out of your league. it would be a miracle if you even got close to go out with her once, let alone date her. trust me, be happy you two fucked and give up."

as soon as adam is finished with his sentence he opens the front door and leaves, his laughs still lingering in the room as chase stands still in front of the dor. suddenly, the sound of another door opening catches his attention. you come outside of chase's room, wearing only the shirt he had on the previous night and your underwear. he turns around to see you getting closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

"hey, what's with that face? everything's ok?" you look up at him worried, you didn't hear much of their conversation besides their muffled voices and adam's laugh. chase smiles softly trying to hide doubt his brother's words have raised in him.

"it's nothing, don't worry about it." you don't respond, you just furrow your eyebrows and look at him with those shiny eyes.

chase shakes his head slightly, pondering whether or not tell you. "it's dumb, really...it's just that – mhm – no, no, just – just forget it. forget i said anything."

"what is it chase?"

he takes a deep breath then exhales "i don't want...this to be a one time thing, nor a "friends with benefits" thing. i'm really, really, attracted to you and i'd love to take you out on a date, do things the way you're supposed to." at first, you don't say anything, your gaze is glued on him.

"i knew it was dumb, i'm so-"

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

his smile grows wide again "are you serious?" you simply nod, which is enough to make his smile even bigger. he cups your cheeks with both of his hands and cloeses the distance between you two, crashing your lips together with a big smile still plastered onto his face.

"i'm sorry you must be hungry, i'll go make some breakfast."

"oh don't worry there's no need to rush."

"then what do you wanna do?"

you look up at him, lips curled in a sly smile.

"i'm up for morning sex if you are."

the same sly smile appears on his face instantly.

"let's go to the bedroom."

a/n: thank you for reading and most importantly thank you so much for the patience!!! i really hope y'all enjoyed this fic <3

tag: @maggiecc @kenshomin @thechalkprincessemma @vildetry06 @sexiestmfdeadoralive

#lab rats #chase davenport #chase davenport x fem!reader #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport smut #lab rats elite force #elite force #lab rats bionic island #labrats #lab rats chase #lab rats x reader

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copperbadge · 3 months

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RE watching thoughts: I’m not 100% sure, but it might be that the whole “I am not my thoughts” is about engaging and identifying with your metacognition MORE than your initial thoughts. Because I get where you’re coming from - what is a consciousness but a collection of thoughts and feelings? But you can also have thoughts about your own thoughts that are more useful for dealing with whatever situation you’re in, I guess. (Random aside - every time I start thinking about thinking about thinking my brain inevitably starts thinking about Tiffany Aching and The Wee Free Men.)

I really should have replied to this ask sooner because it's going to seem like a non-sequitur now (this was sent much earlier in March) but I'm kind of glad I didn't, because I've been chatting with people about this and I think I understand more why there's an emphasis in some therapies on the idea that we are not our thoughts.

(I uh, haven't read the Tiffany books so I'm not much help there.)

I am coming to understand that many, perhaps most, people judge themselves, comprehensively and harshly, based on their thoughts. Perhaps it's just a lot of people who struggle with mental health, but given the commonality of the sentiment I don't know if I'd confine it that tightly; generally it appears that people cannot conceive of themselves as anything other than a binary of good or bad. So many people I've talked to about this portion of DBT, the watching-questioning-identifying thoughts portion, say that it helps to snap them out of a spiral of "I'm a horrible person, I deserve to suffer/die, I can never be redeemed" after they've failed at something, or had a negative thought, or reacted poorly to an unexpected event.

That is not something I've ever experienced. I mean, jokingly maybe, but not in a real, internal sense.

And that's not to brag -- I'm not saying I think I'm a good person, either, because I don't think I'm a good person. I don't conceive of myself in terms of good or bad. I never cuddle my cats and think "I'm such a good cat dad" or forget to feed them and think "I should die now." I have a perpetual morally neutral attitude towards my own existence; my thoughts and actions might trend me one direction or another but I'm aware of the temporary nature of that. If I fuck up I'll worry about who I might have hurt or whether I'll be fired or what's going to happen as a consequence, if I am polite to someone who didn't deserve it I know I was acting kindly in the moment, but I don't make an inherent moral judgement of myself based on that. And it seems like the vast majority of people do. Which you would think would make me feel pretty good about myself, but honestly...I don't know.

A lot of people I know who have ADHD or are Autistic have talked about seeing themselves as other, as alien -- like that one webcomic artist who draws themself with little antennae to indicate they're strange and different. I've always understood why one might do that, but I never felt that way myself, before or after the diagnosis. After all, let's remember, I was The Normal* Child of my siblings, and if I was The Normal One before the diagnosis, why wouldn't I remain Mostly Normal after?

* As ever, I'm using "normal" as a cultural term, to indicate what we think of as mainstream, not because normal is a thing that really exists.

My life has been relatively solitary -- I have friends and family and I love them but I'm rarely part of a large group, I don't spend a lot of time out in public interacting with people, I'm not a big socializer. Before the Adderall, I really couldn't be, I took too much psychic damage from interpersonal interaction, so I chose those very carefully. And now my DBT class has been a rare moment when I'm encountering contradictions to a lot of my assumptions about the way human beings in our society interact, react, and behave. I just...don't fit that mold very well. I think of it as having crossed wiring, not in the sense that I'm faulty but just in the sense that I'm very, very different. Not Normal. It's not exactly a bad feeling but it's certainly not a great one, internalizing the sensation of alienness.

DBT is proving to be a mixed bag but not in the way I or my therapist intended -- it seems to be either things I was already instinctively doing or things that simply do not apply to me. In one way it's disappointing because it means there isn't much help to be had (we're a little over halfway through the course and I keep thinking "Maybe next class will be useful") but on the other hand it's validating that so much of what I came up with myself as unconscious coping mechanisms is literally what I would have been told to do anyway.

Sometimes it's a combination of both, though, which really blows. I guess most people, if they reframe another person's actions, actually find emotional relief in that, and I don't. An example from the class is that if someone is rude to you, you can consider how they might be having a hard day, and be polite in return; that's great, in terms of defusing a situation, and it's something I do a fair amount of. But apparently it's also something that for most people results in feeling less awful about the interaction, and that's not the case for me. Which is why so much of DBT feels to me like lying to oneself. It's not lying for most people.

So, yeah. I'm going to finish out the course and keep trying things with the therapist but I suspect given everything, I might already be at "as good as it gets" in terms of emotional work. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, and there is still the option to try medication that could help, but I think there will come a point where I'm going to have to deal with the fallout of just how different I am, and how that has impacted my life. Might end up a good thing; something I've really been trying to resolve is unhappiness over being unpartnered and highly likely to remain that way, and at least if this provides a better understanding of why, then perhaps I can process that and put it to rest in a way I've been trying to do but not succeeding well at.

So, we'll see. But I find it both fascinating and kind of horrifying how many people can believe they are irredeemably bad, even if the belief is only temporary, simply because they had an uncharitable thought or impulse. It makes me somewhat grateful for the crossed wires, at least.

#sam has adhd #therapy #dbt

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halemerry · 10 months

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hii first of all, i absolutely love your metas on GO s2! your breakdown of the last few minutes of ep6 was really insightful and i love you for your meta about aziraphale and his role as a protector - it is a very astute look into his character and motivations which not a lot of people acknowledge in their theories/speculation after s2.

more to the point of this ask: this is something i've been mulling over and is the only thing that still doesn't make sense to me in ep6. why is crowley so nonchalant, or at least not noticeably worried, about the metatron showing up to the bookshop (a space he is very protective of) and taking aziraphala away for a talk after aziraphale has already been threatened by micheal? throughout the whole season crowley has been extremely protective over aziraphale and is very much aware of the real danger he is in (re: the book of life). this is also right after crowley has returned from heaven and has learned what the metatron was willing to do to gabriel to ensure 'institutional integrity' and that much bigger plans were afoot. i find it hard to wrap my head around his calm demeanor when the metatron enters the scene and takes aziraphale away, even if it's supposedly for a harmless talk. i wonder if you have any thoughts/speculation about this?

(opps this got too long and rambling). i would love to hear your thought but ofc please don't feel pressured to answer :) love your posts about the season and i look forward to reading more from you. have a lovely day!

Hi!! Thank you so much! This ask has had me by the throat basically since you sent it. It sort of touches on some things I already wanted to write about so forgive me if this spirals a bit.

So in a lot of ways I think this is a question that can have a one word answer. But since I do wanna talk about the way the show gives us this answer I actually want to start with Nina. Specifically I want to start with the thing she tells Crowley as Aziraphale’s off with the Metatron.

“You’re the hard bitten one that can’t trust anyone ever again and Mr. Wherever He Is is the soft one that still believes in magic people being basically good and all that."

I’ve talked a little bit about this line before in my meta about the build up to the Confession here because I think it’s important to view from the perspective of how it preps Crowley for the following conversation he’s about to have. But, aside from that, I think it's really important because it's wrong. Nina is describing herself here, not Crowley. She’s projecting her own issues onto him and Aziraphale in the way that she perceives herself relating to them. Crowley himself is actually the one that calls out her trust issues for what they are explicitly.

Nina doesn’t trust and she sees herself in Crowley far more than Aziraphale both in demeanor and aesthetic so she assumes he doesn’t trust either. But she has it backwards. Because Crowley isn’t hard bitten as much as someone who tries very hard to be perceived as such. And, most importantly in this specific context, Crowley actually trusts quite a bit.

And he nearly always has. Even as far as back as the Starmaker.

Just look at the way that the Starmaker and Aziraphale both talk about interacting with God. Aziraphale is nervous, anxious and pretty much immediately clocks that what the angel that would become Crowley is saying is going to get him into trouble. But the Starmaker? Even upset about the information he’s been given, he remains confident in the fact that it can’t hurt to ask a few questions. He trusts there to be no consequence for expressing an objection. He trusts that his opinion is valued. Even if he ends up wrong here there’s no inclination at all that he thinks his words will be taken inappropriately. And even the Fall itself doesn’t burn this out of him.

We see him trust Aziraphale, the cherub who was supposed to be guarding Eden from things like him, not to smite him on sight. And trusts him enough to not only have a conversation but express his own worries about his own actions. He then approaches Aziraphale like a friend at the Flood and makes no attempt to censor his horror at what is happening there.

Job is the first time we see Crowley act in a way that implies mistrust between them. This is the first time they’ve met since the Flood which I suspect is contributing to his reluctance to be honest with Aziraphale here. They fall into their roles and then very rapidly fall out of them. The fact Azriaphale reaches out to Crowley here is important. As is the moment where Crowley asks Aziraphale if he’s sure. After Aziraphale more or less agrees to be all in something changes. Crowley is surprisingly honest about his view on the world, mostly trusting Aziraphale not to use it against him. He places himself in front of a host of angels, trusting that Aziraphale would not expose him. And then later he’s even more honest, admitting to Aziraphale he’s lonely in an attempt to show solidarity.

The entire Arrangement could not exist without them trusting each other. Crowley’s pushing at Aziraphale’s boundaries is a constant exercise in trusting that Aziraphale will come around eventually - or that he at the very least isn’t about to weaponize the treacherous things Crowley is saying against him. As early as 1601 we see Aziraphale voicing active concern for Crowley's well being. We then see Crowley actively trust Aziraphale with both their safeties in 1941 - whether it’s trusting Azriaphale to save them from the bomb about to drop on them or trusting Aziraphale’s trust in him to not accidentally discorporate him during the bullet catch. They even explicitly talk about their mutual trust in this year during their shades of gray conversation.

During Armageddon Crowley shows up trusting that Aziraphale will help him fix this and once Aziraphale agrees never once seems to consider the idea that Aziraphale would hide anything from him (even when Aziraphale is actively doing so).

He also critically knows that Aziraphale tried to reach God and got himself discorporated as a consequence. And likely specifically knows that Aziraphale talked to the Metatron and came away from that conversation realizing that Heaven would not help him. It's worth noting whether Crowley knows this bit or not that in this conversation Aziraphale not only explicitly questions the Metatron's authority but also uses the conversation to extract information from the Metatron.

Aziraphale leaves this conversation with an active lie to the Metatron and attempts to call Crowley to tell him everything he knew. He then continually chooses Crowley over Heaven. They pick their own side and help stop the world from ending.

And then, all season, Aziraphale keeps proving that the trust Crowley has always had in him is well earned. Aziraphale, even more than Crowley himself, brings up ideas of 'us' and 'our side' and 'our car'.

Aziraphale openly talks negatively of Heaven. Not only does he agree with Crowley's disbelief that Heaven managed to stay in charge sending people like Muriel down, but he even goes a step further, implying that they perhaps never had control over earth in that way.

He also, most critically, immediately and without hesitation, tries to turn down the Metatron's offer to even have a conversation. Aziraphale, who has also just brought a group of archangels to order, reaffirms his lack of interest in Heaven right then and there in front of Crowley. Right when the Metatron has reaffirmed the threat of the Book of Life is out of play.

Crowley trusts Aziraphale. He always has. And more than ever lately Aziraphale has given him proof that he doesn't have to worry about where he allegiances lay.

But. It's also worth noting. I don't think Crowley is as chill as he maybe seems like he is. Yes, he's sprawled out and speaking casually here, but to some degree this is a bit of posturing. He's playing it cool and also not encroaching on the control Aziraphale has managed to wrangle on this situation. But he also doesn't just let them wander off either. As soon as they hit the door, Crowley is out of the chair and walking to the front of the shop to watch them leave through the window. He's keeping tabs as they walk away.

He then banishes Muriel and promptly starts to clean. Now I'm always a little wary to mix Book and Show canon, but I do think his cleaning of the bookshop (as well as him carrying around stacks of books while babysitting Jim) are manifestations of Book!Crowley's tendency to want to stress clean. He's keeping himself busy and gets done too quickly then promptly glances at his watch before throwing himself into the chair with a frustrated noise. He's anxious and stressed the entire time Aziraphale is out of his line of sight.

In other words, Crowley's not actually as calm as he's presenting himself to be. He's trying to take that nervous energy out in a way that doesn't conflict with giving Aziraphale agency. Because he trusts his angel. And that in part is why it hits him so hard when it all blows up in his face.

#good omens #crowley #good omens meta #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #answers #oh yeah this got waaaay long #oops

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jeridandridge · 19 days

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For Lovers At Night part 4

You and Melissa go on a real date. Someone catches on to her activities. words: 3454 Previous chapter

A night of pure bliss sends Melissa into the most delightful sleep she’s had in years. Lying tangled between the sheets with you running your fingers through her hair sent her into a spiral when she woke, wondering if everything was actually real. You two had stopped at some point for a break, you leaving the room on wobbly legs to get water and fruit for you both to replenish before coming back to steal kisses and more stories of each others past.

“Hi,” she grumbles out hiding her face in your neck.

“Hi, gorgeous.” You grin not stopping your movements. Waking up to Melissa’s weight against you, the smell of lavender and vanilla gave you a sense of happiness, loneliness you’d felt before melting away. Having been so career driven for so long and not really having family often took a toll on you. But now with Melissa everything was beautiful again. “Sleep good here?”

The redhead stays glued to you, her fingers moving up and down your side in lazy patterns including over the small bruises that cover your hips. “Better than I have in a long time, hon.”

Her raspy morning voice sends a spark through your body, of course she’d be incredibly attractive after just waking up. “You know, it’s really rude how stunning you are right now.”

“You already got lucky, Tesoro. No need to sweet talk me.” She hums.

Shifting gently to look at her you move your fingers to play with the necklace against her skin. “I really do like you, Mel. I wasn’t just trying to get into your pants.” You tell her softly, hoping your actions from the previous night and now could really show her.

Melissa knew that there was something between you two already. Something of real substance and feelings, not just a quick hook up. Looking in your eyes she moves her hand up to your cheek, something she’s now used to doing in such a short time of knowing you.

“Be patient with me while I get used to- us.” She whispers hoping you understand. In that moment she hates how she sounds. Scared and unsure, hoping you don’t get sick of her.

“I don’t know what your ex did to make you feel this way,” you start, “but I’m not him. How’s the quote go, ‘If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours.’

A smile spreads across Melissa’s lips, eyes bright and full of a spark. “Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla.”

“A queer horror love story long before Dracula.” You beam gently squeezing her hand that cups your cheek. “I remembered that quote the first night I met you. You were sitting there reading and you were so content in that little corner. I tried to find a reason to come talk to you again.”

Melissa leans forward, peppering your cheeks and lips in soft kisses with a smile still on her flushed cheeks. You let out a laugh wrapping both arms around her gorgeous frame.

Letting out a content sigh the redhead takes her place back on your shoulder, her thumb still caressing your cheek as she cuddles in not wanting to move just yet.

“Do you need to be anywhere today?” You ask quietly.

Melissa thinks, knowing she doesn’t have much to do but grade some papers and do laundry all while avoiding Joe.

“Nope. I’m all yours.” She hums meaning it in more ways than one.

“Good,” you grin. “I think a real date is necessary.”

Melissa chuckles dancing her fingers across your skin. “Last night didn’t count?”

“Last night was- amazing.” You beam as flashes of red hair and the sound of breathy moans flood your memory. “But you deserve a real date. I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.”

Lifting her head up Melissa pulls the sheet around her body sliding off the bed leaving you bare.

“Where you going?” You laugh watching her wrap herself in the soft fabric. Propping yourself on your elbows you watch her silhouette behind the divider wall.

“Your cute little kitchen to make breakfast.” She calls out finding her discarded panties and your hoodie that were thrown to the floor the previous night.

“After last night I should be the one cooking breakfast.” You laugh through a stretch, eyes going to the ceiling. Laying there hearing Melissa move around your apartment puts a triumphant smile on your lips. Getting up to find your discarded clothes you dress and come out spotting Melissa with her hair up and your baggy hoodie on her.

“You’re so cute like this,” you beam coming up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“What, with sex hair and a sweatshirt?” She laughs.

“Yep.” you grin kissing the side of her neck. This felt so natural to you, having so easily blended together in the small space.

“Careful, hon. I refuse to burn food. Mark that down.” She hums leaning into your touch.

“My apologies and noted.” You laugh slowly pulling your arms away going for the coffee pot. “You’re Italian and you cook, let me guess you make a mean ziti.”

“Damn right I do. Only problem is I can only cook for large groups of people.”

“Good thing I’m a bottomless pit. Cook away, Schemmenti.”

The morning carries on and Melissa cooks up the best breakfast you’re sure you’ve had since you lived at home. At your small kitchen table you sit talking and laughing with the redhead over more anecdotes from your life as you two get to know each other more.

“I did! I made like three hundred bucks that night too. Well, before the cops came.”

Melissa has her head thrown back, laughing in the small chair across from you. “A girl after my own heart, that was a hot spot in high school.”

“I can’t imagine how many parties were broken up in that hell hole over the years.” You laugh into your coffee cup. “I could picture a high school Melissa there.”

“Oh yeah?” She beams, “Do ya think we would’ve been friends in high school or college?”

“Definitely. If you spent time in the library or art room, you’d see me in the corner.”

Melissa grins at the mental image as she plates the food, patting your butt to go to the table. Breakfast passes by with jokes and soft touches, your fingers intertwined with the redheads when you make a suggestion for your first date.

“Pick a number, one or two.” You suggest.

The redhead looks at you with a quirked brow as she plays with your fingers. “Two.”

“Good choice, how do you feel about going for a walk around the park before the place opens?”

Melissa sits back with a grin intrigued by your suaveness. “It’s already almost noon, where you taking me, hon?”

“You’ll have to wait and fight out.” You chuckle gathering the dishes to clean up.

As you stand at the sink Melissa hears her phone chime in her purse nearby. Getting up to retrieve the device her face turns sour when she reads the name on the screen.

Joe: Did you stay the night at Barbs?

Rolling her eyes Melissa texts out a quick yes adding that she’ll be with Kristen Marie all day. She knew her little sister would cover for her.

“Anything fun going on?” You smile taking a seat on the couch.

“Nah,” Melissa shrugs setting her phone back down. “It was one of the other teachers asking about career day coming up this week.”

Melissa has always been good at lying, it’s a skill she picked up at an early age only now she finds herself feeling guilty for lying about little things like this to you.

“Hey that sounds fun, I bet a day like that gives you teachers a bit of a break.” You smile having no idea of Melissa’s inner turmoil.

“That’s also what movies and legos are for.” She chuckles. “Should we get dressed if you’re gonna take me to some mystery second location?”

“Maybe a shower first.” You smirk getting up, taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bathroom. Melissa follows you briskly, resulting in a shower that’s for sure to make your water bill high.

In the mid afternoon you find yourself walking hand in hand with Melissa to the mystery destination. As you two walk you can’t help but smile, the sun hits auburn hair just right and it makes your stomach jump.

“What? Do I look okay?” She asks adjusting her leather jacket she found herself loving once again.

“Nothing,” you chuckle, “you’re really beautiful is all.”

Melissa gently squeezes your hand smiling with her chin up just slightly. Leaning over as you two walk you kiss the corner of her lips. “Ha! Got ya.”

“Poor me,” she teases staying close to you. As you go through the park you see flowers blooming along the bishes, breaking away from Melissa for a moment you hop over to the brush to pick a purple petaled flower tucking it behind her ear.

Melissa lets out a chuckle gently touching the flower. She was in big trouble with this woman and it was more apparent at this very moment. Looking at the new person in her life she can’t help but be vulnerable for a moment with a giddy smile.

“You make me feel special.”

Slipping your arm around her waist you lean in kissing the tip of her nose. “I want to for as long as you’ll let me.”

Out in the cool spring air in the lively Love Park no less, Melissa wraps her arm around your neck pulling you into a gentle kiss. Smiling into against her lips you cant help but come to the realization that you were completely entranced by this woman.

“C’mon, let’s get to this real date.” You beam. Through the park along the street of businesses and tourist traps, you lead Melissa to a building opening the door for her.

“No way.” The redhead lets out as she realizes where you two are. “Axe throwing?!” She lights up like a little kid, practically jumping.

“Yep.” You laugh guiding her to a stool at the bar in the front of the building. “Acohol and sharp object are an interesting combination.”

“Funny, my cousin Niko says the same thing.” Melissa jokes sliding her jacket off into the seat. “It’s five o’clock somewhere right?” She asks flagging down the bartender.

After a warm up drink and signing a waiver, you stand in your caged in area in the back recording the redhead wind up holding the axe over her head.

“Is it wrong I think you look really hot with that?” You tease getting a laugh out of her.

“Don’t throw me off, Amore!”

Holding your phone up you grin watching her arms flex as she throws the axe, it landing right next to the bullseye. “So close!”

“Someone was distracting me.” She hums stepping toward you.

“Do I still get a kiss for good luck?” You tease resting your hands on her hips.

Melissa leans up obliging, giving you a featherlight kiss. “Go on, right now it looks like I’m picking our next date.”

“We’ll see about that, Schemmenti.” You grin stepping up to get the axe she threw.

“If I get a bullseye, I get to take you to the Phillies home opener.”

Melissa’s jaw almost hits the floor at the idea. “You- you wanna go to a Phillies game with me?”

“Yeah I do.” You grin turning around, winding up to throw. Melissa admires your toned arms, undoubtedly from moving books and shelving in the bar. She remembers when she met Joe. He was just out of the army and very much still in shape. Now, as a second shift firefighter his age and wear on his body showed along with the grey that was beginning to show in his dark hair.

Snapping out of it when you flight the axe, Melissa laughs seeing it go right to the red mark in the center of the circle.

“Remind me to never introduce you to my brother.” She jokes.

“Oh yeah? Does he have a thing for throwing sharp objects?” You laugh coming over wrapping your arms around her, the rest of the noise in the place now more lively, becoming background noise.

“Kinda, yeah.” She laughs resting her arms around your neck. This silly activity was certainly something she loved.

Later on in the night after a goodbye kiss, Melissa gets home around eight o’clock ready to get prepared for another week of work while Joe works on whatever in the garage.

“Hey, how was it with Kristen Marie?” He asks not looking up from the toolbox.

“The usual, gossip and backhanded compliments.” Melissa shrugs, not bothering to stop before she goes in the house, her mind still on you.

The next week goes on as it usually does. Texting occurs and phone calls when possible, and Melissa finds herself falling in love with the younger woman that’s occupied her thoughts nonstop since meeting. At the end of the week she teaches and is ready for a much needed break during career day. She was actually grateful that Joe said yes to coming in to speak to her class in the afternoon.

When the time arrives for Joe to come in, Melissa gets up going to the door. “Okay my little eagles, our next guest is a firefighter!” This gets a waves of gasps and “woah!” from the kids, eagerly ready to meet him. “Everyone say hello to Mr. Peterson.”

Joe comes in looking his best with a friendly smile for the kids. Waving, he comes in standing next to Melissa. “Hi guys!”

“Wait, are you married?” One of the kids asks putting two and two together.

“We are, kiddo.” Joe nods. “Isn’t Mrs. Peterson the best teacher,” he smiles knowing his wife loves her kids.

A chorus of “yeah!” fills the room before Melissa chuckles calming the kids down to let Joe talk to them about being a firefighter in the city.

A few blocks over, you sit in your office with a smile on your lips as you scroll on Facebook on your phone. You’d sent Melissa flowers at work, and were eagerly waiting for a text or call to hear about career day. You’ve known the woman for less than three months and it was way too soon; but you knew you were falling for her already. Sitting there feeling curious thinking about the woman that’s stolen your heart, you do a quick search looking for a Melissa Schemmenti hoping to learn more about her.

Scrolling the page your brows knit together when you see her profile picture, but with the name Peterson on the end. Maybe she hadn’t changed her last name yet is what you think. Clicking the page, you see her profile pictures, one of her and Barbara, another of her and who you guess is her sister, and a public post written on her wall by a Jospeh Peterson from only a month ago. The post shows a wedding photo in a frame and a long, tiring rant of “I’m not perfect but she loves me anyway” post that you’ve seen so many times before.

Taking a screenshot of the post and the profile, you sit back taking it all in. She lied to you. She was married still, not even close to being out of a relationship. You needed to talk to her.

“Did you like it?” Melissa smiles from her desk, Joe sat on a chair on the other side as they eat lunch together. It was strange having him there, something he hadn’t done since her first year teaching.

“It was fun, the kids are great, Melly. I see now why you talk about them so much.”

Giving him a tight lipped smile she takes a sip of her iced tea looking up when there’s a knock on the door from the school security guard.

“A delivery for you,” he ushers the man forward, clearly from a flower shop given the purple exotic flowers in his hand.

“For Melissa Schemmenti?” He asks checking his clip board.

Melissa’s eyes go wide and her heart starts to pound when Joe looks at her.

“Thanks pal,” Joe nods to the men getting up to take the flowers closing the door after.

“Joe I-“ Melissa steps forward trying to grab the bouquet.

“Who the hell is sending you flowers under your maiden name?” He asks turning the flowers around, not caring if he ruined them while looking for the card. Melissa sees it first, swiftly reaching over and swiping it away before he can read it.

Taking a breath she looks at her husband. “I need you to remember we’re at my job where a bunch of children are present.”

“I don’t give a shit, Melissa!” He fumes. “Who the hell is sending you flowers? What’s his name?”

Stepping forward he snatches the small card from her hand reading it aloud with an almost red face.

“Hi gorgeous, I find myself thinking that even a week without seeing you is too long now. To quote one of our favorites, ‘you reached in and put a string of lights around my heart.’ It might sound cheesy but it’s the truth.

Yours, y/n

Joes tosses the card down and paces running his hand over his beard.

“A woman huh?”

Melissa wants to curl into a ball and sob. She didn’t want it to happen this way. She was only happy that he had no idea who you were.

“A woman, I can’t even go kick anyone’s ass.” He lets out in a defeated laugh.

“This ended a long time ago Joe. It ended the first night you cheated on me.” Melissa stands her ground not showing any fear, finally tired of it all.

“Oh come on Melissa! I thought you were over all of that.” He tries to dismiss her. That’s when she gets angry.

“Fuck you,” she lets out in a bitter laugh. “You and I both know that every single time I found out you cheated on me I had to stop the boys from coming to kill you on the spot. I’m tired of knowing you’re fucking other women and not giving two shits about me. I let it go so we wouldn’t have to deal with the shame of a divorce, but I can’t anymore. I’m too old for this.

I met her when I wasn’t expecting it, and I definitely wasn’t expecting to have an affair. It just happened, it happened and god I love being taken care of and looked at like I mean something.” She starts to cry, her heart pounding. “For the first time in twenty years Joe, d’you know how long that is? To feel wanted and loved?” She whispers.

Joe meets her eyes, cheeks red but eyes softer now after her admission. He does nothing but look at the flowers and back at her with a nod.

Melissa stands across from him, eye makeup running and nerves twisting.

“I want a divorce.” She lets out in a whisper.

“I’ll move out tonight.”

With that, Joe grabs his keys and leaves, the door hitting the wall as he goes. Moving to her desk Melissa sits with her head in her hands, sniffling when Barb comes to her door.

“Melissa I- oh sweetheart.” Barbara rushes over engulfing her friend in a hug.

Resting her hands on the arm Barb has around her, Melissa lets out a sigh. “I did it, Barb. He found out. He found out and I did it. I asked for a divorce.”

Looking at the flowers and the discarded carb and mess on the desk Barbara rubs Melissa’s back. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Did- did these do it?” She asks nodding to the vase.

“Yeah,” Melissa sniffles wiping her smudged makeup. “They were delivered with a card when we were eating.” She takes a staggered breath trying to calm down.

“Calm yourself and clean up, text her to say thank you while I go pick your kids up from the lunchroom. We can talk later over dinner.”

Of course Barbara’s a saint, taking care of her and helping her out like the work wife she is. Melissa nods, sniffling once more as Barbara leaves to get her kids. Taking a breath she wipes her eyes and picks up her phone, freezing when she sees a text on her screen.

Opening it she sees your name and a screenshot of her Facebook profile. She can feel her heart breaking in her chest when she sees the anniversary post and your words underneath the screenshot.

We need to talk.

Next chapter

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #Melissa Schemmenti #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #lgbtq+ fiction

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celandeline · 4 months

Note

Okay this is my first time asking for a one shot so I hope this makes sense. Okay how about Farleigh and reader aren’t close friends but they are close like behind closed door (if you know what I mean) and like reader is sensitive. So one day Farleigh makes a joke about her without noticing she is there and like hurts her feelings. Like does that make sense obviously you can ignore this if you want. But you if you could write about the part where he is apologizing to her (smut will be great honestly), but you do whatever you want.

sorry this took so long - i promise i'm working through all the lovely asks you guys sent me, it's just taking a minute (school and shit, you know)

anyways!

I'm Sorry (In Not So Many Words)

Farleigh Start is a lot of things. At first glance, a stuck up bitch, but that’s only the first of many layers. He’s wicked smart when it comes to literary analysis, can write an argumentative essay like nobody’s business, and breezes through books faster than anybody else you know. He’s funny in a bitchy kind of way that’s distinctly American and not to everyone's taste, but definitely to yours. He’s fashionable to a fault - a bit of a diva, truly - but on more than one occasion has held your hair back so you can vomit vodka into the toilet. He always has enough weed or coke or acid tabs to share and always has extra room in his dorm for you to crash if you’re too high to get home. He’s mean and nice at the same time, and to most people, it’s confusing. But not to you.

To anyone else, you’re friends. Barely friends, even, connected only by the fact that Felix and Annabel are kind-of-sort-of a thing. You would have never have even met him if Annabel hadn’t dragged you into Felix’s circle, but you’re glad that you did. It’s fun, finding excuses to get each other alone, patting concealer over hickeys you’re not ‘supposed’ to have. And he’s nicer behind closed doors, when he’s not putting on a show for his cousin. You might even go as far as to say that he’s sweet, when it's the two of you alone. Of course, you’d never tell anyone - not that anyone would believe you, either.

So when you overhear Felix ask Farleigh if he’d ever consider going out with you to double date with him and Annabel and he laughs, an icicle shoots through your heart. It’s condescending, his laugh; it’s you’re kidding and I would never and you can’t be serious all at the same time, and it shoots through you like a bullet.

You don’t show up to Kings Arms even though Annabel texts you that that’s where everyone is, instead holing up in your room, the sound of Farleigh’s laughter banging around in your head. You don’t know what the truth is. Has he just been leading you on this whole time? Pretending to like you for… what? It can’t be sex, he can get that with other people, it can’t be drugs, he always supplies them, it can’t be money either… but the way he laughed, like it was so ludicrous that he would ever consider going on an actual date - a double date, even, which is really only half a date - with you. And to think that you liked him. Even just as a friend. Maybe you were wrong to think that his bitchiness was a front - maybe that’s just who he is. Maybe you were wrong to think that he was anything else. Maybe-

A gentle knock at your dorm door interrupts your spiraling, and you get up from your bed, padding across the room to look out the peephole, and find a familiar puff of curls. You’re opening the door before you can really think about if you want to see him right now, just out of habit.

Farleigh smiles at you, and breezes into your room like nothing’s wrong. “Did I leave my grinder in here?”

“I don’t know.” You say, closing the door and retreating back to your bed, watching him sort through the things on your desk, looking for the little blue grinder he keeps with the rest of his weed supplies. He sorts through your things like they’re his - and if you’re being honest, some of them are. Over the course of the semester, the line between what’s yours and what’s his has blurred significantly.

He turns around at the sound of your voice, peering down at you. “What’s wrong with you?” It’s teasing and sympathetic at the same time.

“Nothing.” You shrug. “I’m just not feeling well.”

He squints, moving from the desk to sit down on the bed next to you. “Uh huh.”

You’re really not in the mood for him right now. “Fuck off.” Why should you give him the time of day when he was so rude behind your back? You don’t really want to tell him off to his face - he’s quick as a whip in an argument, you’ve seen it firsthand - but you really, really, don’t want to see him right now.

He laughs, sharp and surprised. “Wow.” He says. “What?”

You roll your eyes. “What, what?” You mock him. You know you’re being childish, but you don’t really care - it was childish of him to laugh.

He rolls his eyes back at you. “What’s your problem?” He asks. “You were perfectly fine earlier, did I say something?”

“Obviously.” You say.

He waits for you to keep going, but you don’t. “You’re not going to tell me?”

“I heard you and Felix.” You snap. “Is the idea of actually going on a date with me in public, with other people, that fucking funny?”

His face shifts into something you don’t recognize. “I-”

“If you don’t want to do this anymore, you should just say so.” You keep going. “I thought that we were actually, I don’t know, friends, at least. Call me crazy but I felt like I actually knew you, and actually liked you.” You laugh. “I just-” You pause. “Nevermind. I guess I was stupid for thinking that it went both ways. I guess I shouldn’t have, I mean, I was watching you do this same shit to other people, I don’t know why I thought I would be different-”

“I wasn’t laughing at the idea of going out with you, I was laughing because there’s no way in hell I would ever go on a double date with Felix and Annabel. They’re fucking insufferable as is.” He interrupts you, placing a hand on your cheek and turning your face so that you’re looking at him. “Did you really think I was laughing at you?”

“I wouldn’t have been so pissed off if I didn’t think you were.” You say, not quite sure whether to believe him or not. “But-”

“I’ll take you out.” He says it casually, thumbing over your cheekbone. “Just us. We can go get dinner at that new place by the pubs. If you want.”

All of the anger and doubt that had been piling up on your chest is suddenly lifted. “That sounds great.”

“Cool.” He says, grinning, his hand still caressing the side of your face. His fingers trail down the side of your neck and then he’s cradling your head, pulling you closer to press his lips to yours - softly, gently. It’s an ‘I’m sorry’ in fewer words, but you know him well enough to read it as an apology.

You kiss him back, pouring your sorry back into him. You shouldn’t have been so quick to assume that he was laughing at you, you should have had more faith in the fact that companionship is a two way street - he seeks you out as much as you do him. It’s mutual, and in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten that. Sweeping your tongue into his mouth, you smile against his lips when he sighs into the kiss.

He pulls away so that his lips are just brushing yours. “Let me make it up to you?”

“You don’t have to.” You say, leaning back as he gently pushes you down on the mattress. “It was really my fault, I misunderstood-”

He noses down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as your back hits the mattress. His curls tickle your skin as he works down your collarbone, rucking up your shirt so that he can kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his lashes as he does. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as he kisses over the skin. “Farleigh-”

“What?” It’s teasing and playful as he sits back on his heels to thumb at the waistband of your pants. He drops his voice slightly. “Can I?”

You nod, and he dips his fingers below your waistband, gently pulling your pants down to your ankles. You kick them off the rest of the way as he leans back down over you, holding your eyes with his as he noses between your thighs. You suck in a breath as his tongue makes contact with your skin, and a bolt of pleasure shoots through you. Your tip your head back against the mattress as he starts to work his mouth over you. He knows how to use his tongue - there’s a reason there’s a rumor about him sucking teachers off - and he puts it to work right away, diving in like he’s hungry for it.

“Oh fuck-” You wind your fingers into his curls, tugging at the root. He moans into your skin, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. It’s good - it’s always good with him. That’s another thing about Farleigh - you can always trust him to actually get you off. Unlike most of the other guys you’ve been with.

But you feel a little guilty that he thinks he has to make it up to you, when you were the one who didn’t bother to ask him what he meant. If anything, you should be sucking him off. Tugging more insistently at his hair, you pull him up to latch your lips together in a kiss, licking yourself off his skin. He pants against your lips. “Why’d you stop me?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You say. That way it’s even, that way, you’re both getting to enjoy yourselves.

“Fuck. Okay.” He shucks his trousers and boxers down in one motion, kicking them down the bed. He’s already hard - but he usually is, after burying his head between your thighs - and you don’t hesitate to reach out and stroke him a few times, watching his face change into that almost pained look he gets when you fuck him.

You line him up, brushing his skin against yours, and watch as his eyelids drop to half mast as he pushes in. The stretch just borders on the edge of too much, but the groan he lets out distracts you from the sting. He always sounds so pretty when you’re like this, tangled up in the sheets of your too-small dorm room bed. You wind a hand into his hair and pull him down into the crook of your neck so that you can nip at his earlobe as he starts that slow, delicious grind you’ve come to associate with him.

He sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck, gently biting over a hickey that he left only a couple days before, refreshing the mark as he muffles a groan. You trail your lips down the shell of his ear until you find his neck again, doing the same. His hips stutter into yours as you suck at the tender skin of his neck, and you smile. Even though he’s on top, he’s still putty in your hands - or mouth, really.

“Farleigh.” You whisper against the mark you just left.

“Mm, what?” He nips at your collarbone.

“Switch with me.” You say. “Let me on top.”

He laughs, a breathy thing that borders on a whine. “I’m supposed to be making it up to you-”

“Which is why you should let me on top.” You say.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you-”

“Please?”

His hips stutter against yours again, and that's how you know you’ve got him. He pulls you tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and rolls across the mattress until he’s flat on his back and you’re straddling him without ever pulling out. Sitting up, you take in the sight of him, pupils blown wide, lips still slick with spit, a blooming mark peeking out from behind his ear, and plant your hands on his chest for leverage as you start to bounce.

He grins, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle the moan that forces its way out of his chest as you work yourself up and down his cock, his hands finding their place on your hips, fingers digging into your skin. You purposefully scratch your fingernails down his chest to watch him squirm, and he uses his grip on your hips to fuck up into you, to watch you falter. It’s a fun game that you play, who can make the other keen and whine more, made even more fun by the fact that more often than not, you win.

“Fuck, fuck-” Farleigh rasps, his grip tightening as he takes over your bouncing for you. You let him move you at his own pace, able to tell just by the way he whines that he’s close. He throws his head back and you watch his stomach tighten as he lets out a long groan. His whole body tenses, and then stills. You wait for his eyes to flutter open before you start bouncing again.

He gasps, a high pitched laugh leaving his lips. “Shit-”

“I’m almost there.” You say, watching his face as the coil tightens in your gut.

“Take your time.” He says, panting. “I’m good.”

He always says that, but you know it’s only a matter of time before it’s too much and he starts to grit his teeth. You know what it’s like - you’ve been on the other end before, already came but Farleigh’s still fucking, the drag growing more overstimulating the longer it goes on. So you bounce faster, focusing on the way he looks underneath you, debauched and panting, eyes half lidded as he watches you go up and down, sweat gathering in the hollow of his neck. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Ah-”

You shake apart on top of him, and he catches you as you slump down onto his chest, arms wrapping around your middle. You nose into the crook of his neck with a sigh, contentment washing over you. “‘M sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being stupid. Thinking you were laughing at me. Sulking about it.” You say, pressing a kiss to the warmth of his skin.

“‘M sorry for making you think I was laughing at you.” He says.

You sigh. “We’re good?”

“We’re good.” He says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

#farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh start smut

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skywalker1dream · 1 month

Text

Title: web of obsession

part one | part two Note: my Carlos obsession is back and it seems I can't stop writing about him.:3 hope you are having good day or night, drink water, eat healthy, if you have any requests I'm all ears <3

Summary:When you move into a charming new neighborhood, you catch the eye of Carlos Sainz, your next-door neighbor. What starts as friendly attention quickly spirals into a dark, possessive obsession. As Carlos’s behavior becomes increasingly intense and controlling, you realize you are trapped in the web of his dangerous love. Can you escape his clutches, or will his obsession consume you both?

Warnings: Dark themes, Possessive/obsessive behavior, Stalking, Manipulation, Emotional distress, Implied non-consensual control,Dubious consent, Stockholm syndrome

You had just moved into your new apartment, excited to start a new chapter in your life. The neighborhood was charming, with cobblestone streets and blooming flowers adorning the windowsills. It was a refreshing change from the bustling city you had left behind. As you unpacked the last of your boxes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and optimism about your future here.

Little did you know, someone had been watching you closely ever since you arrived. Carlos Sainz, your next-door neighbor, had noticed you the moment you stepped foot in the building. From his window, he observed you carrying boxes, arranging furniture, and finally, the way you smiled with satisfaction once everything was in place. He found himself drawn to you, your innocence and naivety awakening something dark and possessive within him.

Carlos had always been a private person, his life revolving around the high-speed world of Formula 1 racing. But there was something about you that captivated him. Your purity and unawareness of his growing obsession made you irresistible. He had to have you. He needed to protect you, to make sure no one else could ever come close to you.

One evening, as you were settling in with a cup of tea and a good book, you heard a knock on your door. Surprised, you opened it to find Carlos standing there, a charming smile on his face.

"Hi, I'm Carlos, your neighbor. I thought I'd come by and introduce myself," he said, his voice smooth and inviting.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you, Carlos. I'm [your name]," you replied, offering a shy smile.

"I noticed you moved in recently. If you need anything or have any questions about the area, feel free to ask," he offered, his eyes darkening slightly as he took in your innocent expression.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," you said, genuinely appreciative of his offer.

_________

Over the next few days, Carlos made a habit of stopping by, offering to help with small tasks, bringing you groceries, and even inviting you out for coffee. You found his attention flattering and appreciated his kindness, unaware of the storm brewing within him.

_________

One night, as you were walking back to your apartment after a late shift at work, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you saw Carlos, his eyes intense and focused on you.

"Carlos, you scared me!" you exclaimed, your heart racing.

"I’m sorry, (Y/N). I was just making sure you got home safely. It's not safe for someone like you to be out alone at this hour," he said, his voice laced with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

_________

As the weeks passed, Carlos's behavior grew increasingly intense. He would show up unannounced, his eyes filled with a dark hunger that made you uneasy. He would call you constantly, checking up on you, demanding to know where you were and who you were with.

One evening, you decided to confront him. "Carlos, I appreciate your concern, but I feel like you're becoming too... controlling. I need some space," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming. "You don’t understand, Mi amor. I’m doing this for you. I need to protect you. You’re mine," he growled, his voice dangerously low.

Fear gripped you as you realized the depth of his obsession. "Carlos, please, I need you to leave," you said, backing away.

But Carlos didn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you close to him. "You don’t get it, do you? I can't let you go. I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to break free from his grasp. "Carlos, this isn't right. You’re scaring me," you cried out, hoping to reach the man you once thought was kind and gentle.

But Carlos was beyond reason. His obsession had consumed him entirely, and he was determined to make you his, no matter the cost. "You belong to me, cariño. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means locking you away where no one else can touch you," he declared, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity.

You realized then that you were trapped, caught in the web of Carlos's dark and possessive love. And as he pulled you closer, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

_________

The next day, you woke up to find your phone missing. Frantically, you searched your apartment, but it was nowhere to be found. You decided to ask Carlos if he had seen it, even though you had your suspicions.

When you knocked on his door, he answered almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you. "Carlos, have you seen my phone? I can't find it anywhere," you asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

He smiled, a chilling smile that sent a wave of dread through you. "No, I haven't seen it. Maybe you misplaced it," he said, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was lying.

You knew you needed to get away, to find help. But without your phone, you felt isolated and vulnerable. The next few days were a blur of Carlos's increasingly invasive presence and your mounting fear. He seemed to be everywhere, watching you, controlling your every move.

_________

One evening, as you were cooking dinner, Carlos let himself into your apartment with a spare key you didn’t know he had. He stood in the doorway, watching you with a dark intensity.

"Carlos, you can't just come in here uninvited," you said, trying to muster the courage to stand up to him.

"I told you, Mi amor, I'm doing this for you. I need to protect you," he replied, his voice eerily calm.

You felt a chill run down your spine. "Protect me from what? You're the one scaring me," you said, your voice trembling.

Carlos stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, cariño. You need me. Without me, you're vulnerable. Anyone could hurt you," he said, his voice taking on a desperate edge.

"You're the one hurting me, Carlos. This isn't love, this is obsession," you cried out, tears streaming down your face.

Carlos's expression hardened, and he grabbed your arm, pulling you close. "You don't get to decide what's best for you. I do. And I will keep you safe, even if it means keeping you here with me forever," he said, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Desperation surged through you, and you struggled against his grip. "Carlos, please, let me go," you begged, but his hold only tightened.

In a moment of sheer panic, you managed to break free and ran for the door. But Carlos was faster. He caught you, pinning you against the wall, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

"Don't you see, cariño? You're mine. And I'll never let you go," he whispered, his voice filled with a terrifying mix of love and madness.

_________

Days turned into weeks, and Carlos's hold on you only tightened. He controlled every aspect of your life. You were not allowed to leave the apartment without him. He provided everything you needed, but it came at the cost of your freedom.

At first, you resisted, your spirit unbroken despite his oppressive behavior. But Carlos was relentless. He showered you with affection in his twisted way, blurring the lines between love and captivity. His touches became more intimate, more demanding, yet he always framed them as acts of love and protection.

One night, after a particularly intense confrontation, you found yourself in his arms, the weight of your fear and isolation bearing down on you. His hand gently stroked your hair as you lay against his chest, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.

"Cariño? you know I only do this because I love you," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

"Love shouldn't feel like this," you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Carlos tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "It’s the only way to keep you safe. You have to trust me," he insisted, his eyes dark and intense.

You wanted to scream, to push him away, but a part of you, worn down by the constant pressure, began to waver. His touch, once a source of fear, started to feel comforting in your desperate state. The line between captor and protector blurred further with each passing day.

________

One evening, Carlos returned home to find you sitting on the couch, your expression distant. He knelt before you, taking your hands in his. "What's on your mind, mi amor?" he asked, his voice tender.

"I don't know what's real anymore," you confessed, your voice shaking. "I feel like I'm losing myself."

Carlos's grip tightened. "You're not losing yourself. You're finding your true place, with me. I’ll take care of you."

"I’ll take care of you, and you'll see that this is where you belong," Carlos whispered, his voice soothing yet laced with an unsettling authority.

You tried to pull your hands away, but his grip was firm. He moved closer, his eyes locked onto yours. There was an intensity there, a burning need that frightened you, yet you couldn’t tear yourself away from his gaze.

"Carlos, this isn't right," you said weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh, mi amor. You just need to relax and let me take care of everything," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

His lips lingered, trailing down your face, planting kisses on your cheeks and finally your lips. You froze, the mixture of fear and a strange sense of comfort paralyzing you. Carlos deepened the kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face, his touch both possessive and gentle.

You knew you should resist, that you should push him away, but his words and actions had begun to wear down your resolve. You felt a strange, unsettling warmth spreading through you, a part of your mind beginning to believe his twisted version of love.

Carlos sensed your hesitation and took advantage, his kisses becoming more urgent, his hands moving to your shoulders and down your arms, pulling you closer. Your heart pounded in your chest as he guided you to lie back on the couch, his body pressing against yours.

"Just let go, cariño. Let me love you," he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and intoxicating.

You whimpered softly, torn between the instinct to flee and the growing sense of submission. Carlos's hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a confusing mix of fear and desire. He was relentless, his need for control evident in every movement.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands slipped beneath your shirt. You gasped, the sensation both foreign and electrifying. Carlos's kisses trailed down your neck, his lips leaving a burning path as he whispered sweet yet possessive words against your skin.

"I've dreamed of this, of having you all to myself," he murmured, his hands exploring your body with a fervent possessiveness. "You're mine, cariño, mine. No one else can ever have you."

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight back, but your body betrayed you, responding to his touch in ways you couldn't control. His hands found their way to your waistband, and he deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down with a practiced ease. He kissed your stomach, his lips moving lower, and you shivered, torn between fear and a perverse sense of anticipation.

"Carlos, please," you whimpered, unsure whether you were begging him to stop or to continue.

He paused, looking up at you with a dark, intense gaze. "Please what, mi amor? Tell me what you want."

"I... I don't know," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Carlos's expression softened, and he climbed back up to kiss away your tears. "It's okay, cariño. I'll make you understand. I'll show you how much I love you," he promised, his voice a dangerous mix of tenderness and possessiveness.

He captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands resuming their exploration of your body. Your resistance crumbled further with each passing second, the lines between right and wrong blurring in the haze of his relentless attention.

Carlos was methodical, his actions deliberate and consuming. He undressed you with a slow, practiced ease, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal more of your vulnerable form. His kisses trailed down your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

You felt helpless, trapped in his web of obsession, yet a part of you craved his touch, his approval. He made you feel wanted, cherished in his own twisted way, and that was a feeling you hadn't experienced in so long.

Carlos's hands found their way to your most intimate places, and you gasped, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. He watched your every expression, his eyes dark and hungry.

"See, cariño ? This is how it should be. Just you and me, together," he murmured, his voice hypnotic.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the inevitable, your mind and body betraying you in the most intimate of ways. Carlos took you with a possessive passion, his love both a prison and a twisted form of salvation.

As the night wore on, you found yourself clinging to him, your emotions a chaotic whirlwind of fear, desire, and a growing sense of dependence. Carlos's obsession had consumed you both, binding you to him in a dark and inescapable embrace.

In the depths of your mind, a small voice screamed for freedom, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming force of Carlos's love. You were his, and he would never let you go.

___________

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz f1 #f1 fic #fanfic

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months

Text

Let Me Love You | 3 - B. Barnes

Character: college!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: On a mysterious, rainy night, Bucky witnesses a distressing encounter involving his crush.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. What are your thoughts? Please leave a comment; I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

You and Bucky sprinted away from Lloyd, hearts pounding in sync with the rhythm of your hurried steps, the adrenaline coursing through your veins dulling the ache of exhaustion.

Pausing to catch your breath, Bucky turned to you, concern etched on his face as he asked, "Are you okay?" Your response was worn as you admitted, "No, I'm not okay. I'm exhausted. I just want to go home and hide under my blanket."

Ever the caring friend, Bucky offered to drive you back to your apartment, a gesture that elicited a heartfelt "Thank you, Bucky" from your lips.

Upon arriving at your apartment, after Bucky had kindly dropped you off, the sound of a knock on your door sent a shiver down your spine.

'Knock,Knock,'

Fear gripped you, your mind racing with thoughts of Lloyd's relentless pursuit. However, to your immense relief, Bucky stood on the other side of the door.

Returning with a thoughtful gesture, he handed you something, saying, "For you. Good food could make you feel better." Before you could utter a word of gratitude, he swiftly turned and disappeared, leaving you standing there with a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

You carefully examined what was inside the plastic, finding a comforting sight—a steaming bowl of chicken soup. Gratitude washed over you as you realized how much you needed this warmth to soothe your empty stomach.

Recalling past instances, you couldn't help but contrast Bucky's thoughtful gesture with Lloyd's indifference; he never once checked on you when you were sick. Shaking your head, you pushed those memories aside, recognizing that they belonged to a time that was now behind you.

After luxuriating in a revitalizing shower to refresh yourself, you set about warming up the soup, eager to savor its nourishing goodness.

As you took the first sip, you felt the dizziness that had plagued you begin to dissipate, replaced by a comforting sense of relief. You made a mental note to express your gratitude to Bucky again the next time you crossed paths with him.

Just as you settled down to enjoy your meal, the shrill ring of your phone pierced the air, signaling an incoming call from your mother.

'Ring'

Setting down the soup spoon, you take a moment to sip the warm water, gathering yourself before answering the incoming call. With a deep breath, you bring the phone to your ear and utter a tentative, "Hello?"

On the other end, your mother's voice, Cecilia, sounds immediately concerned, "Don't tell me it's true you broke up with Lloyd?"

You let out a weary sigh, not wanting this breakup to escalate further, especially given your mother's fondness for Lloyd. "Yes, it's true."

Cecilia's tone turns to disapprove, "How? And Why? Don't let him get away, he's our golden ticket to get out from this town."

Your headache, which had just subsided, returns with a vengeance at her words. "Mom, he cheated on me."

Cecilia brushes off your concerns, "So? It's normal for a man with a bright future like him to have many women chasing him. You should've turned a blind eye. I heard from Lloyd's mother that a coach from the NFL league is recruiting him."

You exhale heavily, frustration bubbling up inside you. "I've worked tirelessly and studied hard to maintain my scholarship. I don't have time to watch whatever Lloyd does behind my back."

Cecilia's tone takes on a hint of resentment, "Oh, I see. Just because you became a St. Louis student, you think you're better?"

"That's not what I meant," you interject, feeling the conversation spiraling out of control. "You know what? I don't have time for this. Goodbye, Mom."

With that, you end the call and power off your phone, feeling drained. Glancing at the now unappetizing soup, you realize you just want to retreat into the solace of sleep.

The next day, with no classes scheduled, you requested a morning shift at work, preferring to avoid staying at your apartment to prevent any unexpected visits from Lloyd.

Today, you find yourself assuming the role of kitchen manager, a position you've earned through over a year of dedicated work, earning the trust of your manager. With the usual kitchen manager on leave due to health reasons, you've been tasked with overseeing operations for the day.

As you busy yourself assisting the cashier, your attention is drawn to the entrance by the familiar sight of Bucky and his two friends strolling in. Steve's grumbling about hunger prompts Bucky to suggest a visit to WHAM Burger, their usual haunt. Bucky insists on the visit rather than opting for delivery, eager for the chance to see you.

Welcoming them warmly, you greet them with a smile. "Welcome to WHAM Burger. What would you like to order?"

Observing your tired demeanor, Bucky admires your resilience and spirit. "Three cheeseburgers, three orders of fries, and three Cokes, please."

"Alright," you reply, masking your fatigue with determination. "You guys can take a seat, and I'll bring it over to your table."

As they settle in at their table, Bucky notices you approaching with their meals. However, his attention is caught by the unexpected addition of 12 chicken nuggets on the tray. "Y/N, we didn't order these," he points out.

You wink playfully at him, a gesture of gratitude. "My treat. Thank you for your help yesterday, Bucky."

Bucky can feel his cheeks flushing as Sam, seated beside him, notices and flicks his ear.

"Ouch," Bucky exclaims, rubbing his ear sheepishly.

Your laughter rings out at Bucky's reaction, adding a lightness to the atmosphere.

The light atmosphere in the restaurant swiftly turned dark as Lloyd, accompanied by Nicky and the rest of the football team, entered the establishment. A smirk adorned Nicky's face, her presence feeling like a taunt as she appeared to flaunt her newfound proximity to Lloyd.

Lloyd's casual remark did little to ease the tension as he addressed you, "Don't mind us, we just came here for a quick breakfast."

With a flourish, Nicky produced her black credit card, offering to foot the bill, "My treat." The football team erupted into cheers at the prospect.

Lloyd, with a smile playing on his lips, added, "Great, and we could use Y/N's employee discount."

Nicky's gaze shifted to you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation "Really?"

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't believe the audacity of the situation. "That discount only applies to me," you retorted firmly. Working here, you've always utilized the employee discount, which Lloyd had benefited from in the past.

But to expect it for a party of 24 people? That was pushing it. You knew that allowing such a large discount would likely result in repercussions from your manager, perhaps even costing you your job.

You felt the weight of 24 pairs of eyes bearing down on you, and under their collective gaze, you couldn't help but feel small. Even the manager's expectant look added to the pressure.

Then, a comforting hand gently grasped your arm, and you turned to see Bucky standing beside you. His reassuring nod gave you a sense of calm amidst the chaos, "It's gonna be alright."

"Huh?" you uttered in confusion.

As Lloyd crossed his arms, his disapproval evident, he glanced between you and Bucky with a dismissive "Tsk," unable to comprehend your choice.

However, before you could respond, the manager, Thesa, intervened. With a professional smile, she addressed the football team, acknowledging their presence with gratitude.

"Thank you for coming to WHAM Burger, our football champions. It's an honor to have you here. As a token of our appreciation, today's order will be on us."

The unexpected gesture elicited cheers from everyone, except Nicky, whose opportunity to embarrass you had been thwarted.

Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you couldn't help but feel fortunate for the turn of events, even if you weren't entirely sure what had transpired.

Thesa's call snapped your attention, and you nodded in response. "Sure," you agreed before casting a quick glance at Bucky. "I'm needed in the kitchen. See you guys at the uni." With that, you hurriedly made your way to the kitchen, leaving the dining area behind.

As you scurried off, Bucky watched your retreating figure, a sense of concern etched on his features. However, his attention was soon diverted when he felt a gaze burning into him. Turning, he found himself locking eyes with Lloyd, who radiated hostility.

Beside him, Steve noticed the tension and issued a warning. "You better watch out, punk."

Bucky simply nodded in acknowledgment. "I know," he replied, his tone resolute.

Sam, ever observant, chimed in with a question. "Did you help Y/N just now?"

Before Bucky could respond, Steve jumped in. "Of course, he did. He can't let his crush get bullied like that."

The word 'bullied' lingered in Bucky's mind, igniting a protective instinct within him. He vowed silently to ensure you never experienced such treatment, especially not within his domain.

Indeed, while only a few people on campus knew, within WHAM Burger, everyone was aware that Bucky Barnes was the son of the owner of this famous food chain restaurant.

Yet, despite the recognition that came with his lineage, Bucky remained grounded and humble, striving to earn his place through hard work and dedication rather than relying solely on his family name.

And now, upon discovering that his number one girl is being underestimated like this, Bucky feels compelled to protect her.

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Author Note:

Hey friends,

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