#on new friends that I was just all about being go with the flow that this wasn’t a problem but I feel now like I’ve lost some of myself and
lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals
note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.
important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)
type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.
pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem
warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw
۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.
۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.
۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.
۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.
۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.
۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.
۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.
۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.
۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.
۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others
f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?
view comments…
user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok
user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit
user77: isn’t she friends with kika??
user25: yes!
user3: he doesn’t look happy….
user90: meh
user41: looks forced
user2: my mannnnn
user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.
۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.
۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.
۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?
۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.
۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.
۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.
۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.
۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:
lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.
magui: oh…ok?
lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?
magui: i’ll ask kika
magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry
lando: ???
magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful
lando: she is
*lando has blocked this number*
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others
landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️
view comments…
*only certain profiles can reply to this post*
y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss
landonorris: smack me??
y/n.user: you posted my TOES
oscarpiastri: double dates?
landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling
y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes
lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞
danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it
carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!
charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!
savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!
landonorris: i will, don’t fret
olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.
۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.
۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.
۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.
۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.
۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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Reinvent Love
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe
Author’s note: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!
Wordcount: 3.6K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
It was silly. Joe was being silly.
He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.
You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.
Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.
He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?
Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?
This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.
No.
He couldn’t think that.
It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.
But, she was here, he had to remind himself.
She’s here.
And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?
God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.
He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.
It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.
And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.
“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”
Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.
“Joe, when did you last clean?”
Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.
“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.
You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.
You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.
“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.
He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.
Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.
Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.
Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.
“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.
“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.
Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.
“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.
“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.
You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.
This was perfect.
“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.
“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”
You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.
“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”
You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.
He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.
So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”
And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.
Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.
But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.
You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.
And there was no real hiding this time around.
You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.
It was just... things were getting real now.
Shit was real.
“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”
You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”
You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.
“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”
“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”
You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!
“Joe,”
“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”
“Joe.”
Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.
“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.
“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”
And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.
Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.
“You coming?”
Breathe.
Calm down.
You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.
Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.
Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.
When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.
This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.
This soft man.
So sleepy.
He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.
You were right.
Joe was already falling asleep.
You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.
“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.
“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.
You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.
You woke up in the same way.
Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.
When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?
“Five more minutes.”
“Mmm... it’s never just five.”
Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.
And fine.
Joe could have five more minutes.
But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.
“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.
Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.
Because he did.
Joe fucking loved you.
There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.
Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.
Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.
Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.
Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.
Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.
Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.
Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”
Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.
Loved you, loved you.
He was hardly able to deny any of it.
And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.
Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?
That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.
He got to ignore it for a while.
Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.
It was easy.
Joe loved you.
He knew he did.
Would tell you soon.
Didn’t know how.
Or where.
But he was going to say it.
He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.
Joe loved you.
You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.
Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.
Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?
Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.
Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.
Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?
Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?
Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.
Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?
Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.
Joe loved you.
He knew he did.
But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.
Joe fucking hated this.
Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.
Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.
He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.
Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.
It was silly.
Joe was being silly.
Rational thought saved him.
Rational thought told him he still loved you.
And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,
@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,
@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,
@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,
@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,
@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,
@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,
@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,
@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,
@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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one bed trope by design | dawson mercer
warnings: fwb but unspokenly more, eldest daughter vibes in the first paragraph, teasing & annoying your partner, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, heavyyyy making out, dirty talk (it’s pretty sweet, actually), possessive!dawson, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, cockwarming, whimpering man (slay), begging (only a little), mentions/allusions to consensual somnophilia, and a little bit of a fixation on spit (as i am wont to do)
pairing: dawson mercer x reader
summary: the one when dawson comes over to build a bedframe for your guest room, demands multiple rewards, and pouts when you try to make him test it out alone. he ends up getting everything he wanted, though.
wc: 4636
You have a bone to pick with anyone who writes furniture-building instruction manuals. After all the years of “building things” (holding flashlights, standing aimlessly for support, fetching beers) with your dad, you would think that you’d be able to build a bedframe. You would think that you could read the directions, screw in some nails, glue some pegs into place, and your guest room would be all set. In another world, you’re flying through this process and the bed’s already done. Here, in this world, the real world, all you’ve done is sort all of your supplies and read the first page of directions and it’s been shit. The wording is unclear, the pictures don’t make any sense, the bags of supplies aren’t clearly labeled in conjunction with the guide in the manual, and you’re at your wits end.
So you call Daws.
Your best friend in the world, Dawson Mercer, has always been skilled with his hands. Never mind the double entendre, you’ve seen how deftly Daws can handle a stick and a puck, so he is surely able to handle a screwdriver and a drill.
In fact, continuing with the entendres, you know Dawson can handle a drill. On top of being your best friend in the world, you two had started hooking up in his second season at New Jersey, after you’d gotten a job in New York City and relocated. With just thirty minutes between you two and a lot of pent up feelings on both sides, it was only a matter of time until one of you broke and jumped the other. It ended up being him, but it was your fault.
It was a late night and you’d been up working on a proposal for your boss. It was well past midnight and you had work the following day, but you were in a groove and you couldn’t stop until the task was done. It had already been a tough day and you started to feel better when your work began to flow, but then you forgot a word and could not find it no matter what thesaurus you used or what questions you googled. You knew it was the perfect word for this proposal and it sounded so intelligent in your head, but you could not fucking remember it. It might’ve been the sleep deprivation of it all, but this sent you over the edge and before you knew it, you were calling Dawson and tearfully explaining your situation. He couldn’t understand you through the hysteria and was at your door as soon as possible, scooping you up and taking your computer away. You had explained everything again through your tears and he had held you in his arms, tucking your head away in his neck so you could hide from the world. When your breath evened out, Daws had registered the flutter of your eyelashes against his pulse and couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. It had been sweet and it was a long time coming. Things escalated that night about as far as you could go for the first time, with Dawson treating you like something that would break if he held you too tightly or looked at you too long. You both were shy but cared so much for each other that it just felt right.
You hadn’t defined it in the year since, but you know and Dawson knows that there is something special between you. You’re best friends and maybe, one day, you’d both be ready to commit to more.
For now, though, Dawson is the guy who’s going to sit in your guest bedroom and build your guest bed and maybe you’ll repay him if you felt like it.
Dawson comes over as soon as you call and walks into your apartment sopping wet. When he walks into your space, he shakes like a wet dog and you shriek. He gives you a toothy grin, your heart fluttering with fondness like it always does when you see the space between his teeth. “It’s raining out there,” he says unnecessarily, walking over to plant a quick kiss on your lips. “Where’s this bed you need your big, strong man to build, baby?”
You scoff and roll your eyes. “Big, strong man,” you mock. “Where’s that guy? I don’t see a big, strong man here.”
Daws pinches your hip for your comment, but it doesn’t really hurt.
“I’m turning my office into a guest bedroom,” you continue. You lean up and give Daws another little peck. “The bed is in there.” You reach around and give him a pat on the butt. “Go on, get in there.”
“You’re not going to help me?” Dawson calls over his shoulder, teasing you as he walks down the hall towards his daunting task.
“Darling, you’ll just get distracted by me,” you reply. “I’ll be in here if you need me.” You take a seat on your couch and pick up the book you’ve been reading. You drape a blanket over your legs and lean back against the arm of the sofa, finding your bookmark and opening the book to that page.
You can hear the rain growing heavier as you continue to read, as well as the sounds of Dawson putting the new bedframe together. He’s making quick work of it and takes a break at his self-proclaimed halfway point. He wanders into the living room and washes his hands in your kitchen sink before joining you on the couch. He sneaks under the blanket and lays between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. His hand reaches up, comes out from under the blanket, and rests on your chest. He palms your breast, just holding the weight of it in his hand. You place your bookmark and close your book, setting it down on the coffee table to your left. You lift the blanket and make eye contact with Dawson. You can’t help but think of your friend’s cat from university, who used to cuddle on your lap under the blanket just like this.
“Hi,” Dawson greets, smiling wide.
“Hi, sweet,” you reply and card your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “Have you given up on that bed yet? It’s impossible, isn’t it?”
“Mmm, no,” Dawson hums, purring like your friend’s cat used to when you pet him. He pushes into your hand just the same. “Just taking a break with my favorite girl.”
“Sweet talker,” you tease. Your hand moves to pinch his cheek like a grandmother would. “You’re trying to get in good with me, huh?”
“You always assume I’ve got an ulterior motive,” Dawson complains. “Maybe I just want to hang out with you.”
You give him an unimpressed look with a tilt of your head.
Dawson snickers quietly, burying his head in your stomach. “No, you’re right.” He kisses your tummy, just next to your belly button. “I always have an ulterior motive.”
You spread your legs a little wider, allowing Dawson to fit his shoulders between your thighs comfortably. “What do you have in mind?”
“A snack,” Dawson replies in a cheeky voice, the smirk evident in his tone before he ghosts a fingertip under the hemline of your sleep shorts.
Because you’re a brat, you twist away from Daws. You move to get up from the couch. “Shall I make you something?” You ask.
Daws holds you down with his full weight, wrapping his arms around you until you’re effectively immobilized. You can’t see him anymore, having dropped the blanket when you moved to get up. “No,” he whines, drawing out the word and pulling you to him. He bites the side of your hip gently through your shorts. “Stay here, you’ve got what I need.”
“What you need,” you repeat, smiling to yourself. This is the side of Dawson that rarely anyone gets to see, even though he’s a happy-go-lucky guy most of the time. No one gets to see Dawson all whiny and eager to please, happy to get himself off by just getting his mouth on you. He’s sated like this, happy to stay between your legs for hours and make you come time after time, until you’re oversensitive and pushing him away. You’re happy to let him indulge most of the time, but that bed is still only halfway built. “Can you make it quick?” You ask. “Need you to finish building that bed for me.”
Dawson presses a kiss to your core, making you shiver. He hums in agreement. “Can we christen it after I’m done?”
You giggle and swat the back of his head under the blanket. “You wish.”
Dawson hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and drags them down, removing them delicately and placing them on the ground next to him. He kisses down your leg as he does it and it’s even more arousing than it normally is, given that you can’t see him under the blanket and can barely guess his next move. “I do wish,” he agrees before moving onto your panties. “Can I earn it?”
“You can sleep in there by yourself and let me know how it is, since all my guests will be on their lonesome,” you say. You inhale sharply when Dawson dives in and flicks your clit with his tongue. “I think that would be more effective.”
Dawson bites the side of your thigh sharply and makes you jump. “Don’t wanna sleep alone,” he complains. “You’re mean to me.” He licks over your folds again, shifting to use both hands to spread you open so he can begin to eat you out properly.
“Fuck, Daws,” you groan, throwing your head back. You take a breath before continuing. “If I’m so mean to you, why am I letting you eat your snack? I could tell you no at any moment and make you go back to the guest room and work some more before kicking you out of my apartment and sending you home.”
“You’re talking a lot for someone who’s supposed to be enjoying herself,” Dawson mutters. You can hear his pout, not needing to see it to know that he’s annoyed that he hasn’t rendered you speechless.
“Maybe you need to do better,” you breathe out, grinding down on the fingers that are slowly tracing your entrance, begging for them to enter you without actually saying it.
Dawson growls at that, taking it like a challenge and dipping his fingers into you and flicking his tongue against your clit quickly, giving everything he can to bring you to your peak.
You moan, reaching under the blanket to thread your fingers in Dawson’s hair. You tug at it and he moans, the vibrations making you shiver and bringing you just that much closer to your orgasm. “Dawsy,” you breathe out. “More.”
“Not much more to give, baby,” Dawson mumbles against your pussy, but pistons his fingers into you more quickly. “Giving you all I’ve got right now. Trying my best to make you feel good, sweet girl.”
“Feels so good,” you reassure him. “Need something else, need a little more.”
Dawson adds another finger, stretching you. He reaches up and pulling the blanket down so he’s not covered anymore. You can see your wetness dripping down his fingers and onto his wrist as he continues to move them inside you. You grip his hair as he brings his other thumb to your clit, rubbing in rapid circles. He spreads his fingers and leans in, doing his best to lick between them and get his tongue inside you. He looks up through his eyelashes at you when he does it and it’s that image, his wide eyes filled with so much admiration for you and determination to prove that he can make you feel so, so good, that makes you clench down and let your release wash over you.
Dawson continues to thrust his fingers into you through your climax, mouthing over your clit and suckling at it until you’re squirming and panting. You pull him up your body by his hair, needing his mouth on yours. You keen into his mouth as he speeds his fingers up again. “Daws,” you gasp.
“Baby,” he replies, then kisses you again. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you two make out, movements lazy. He continues to finger you through it, unwilling (maybe even unable) to pull out of your wet heat just yet. He’s laying on top of you at this point and the weight of him is wonderful, always comforting you like nothing else could.
You kiss for what feels like ages, just feeling each other. Dawson grinds his hips against your leg, pressing his hardness into you, but making no move to do anything about it. It’s lovely, this moment, and comfortable like you two had been in love for years and you could do this every day. In the least cliché way, you knew that Dawson was your soulmate, the person you were meant to find in any universe at any time. He wasn’t yours, but he was.
“Love you, Dawsy,” you tell him between kisses.
He hums in agreement.
“Can you go finish building my bed now?” You ask, your one-track mind itching to get Dawson back on task. You really wanted that bed to be finished today, just so you didn’t have to think about it anymore.
Dawson pulls away and glares down at you. “Here I am, making out with you with my fingers inside your pretty pussy, and you’re going to make me work?” He demands.
You giggle, leaning up to plant a wet kiss, a real smacker, on his cheek. “Yeah,” you say, shit eating grin on your face when you settle back onto the couch cushions. “Go on.”
Reluctantly, Dawson slides his fingers out of you and gets off the couch, licking his fingers clean and adjusting himself in his sweatpants. “So mean,” he reminds you with a cutting glance before he disappears back down the hallway and into the guest room.
You return to your book. “Holler when you’re done!” You yell to Dawson.
“I don’t know why I ever do anything for you,” Dawson replies, voice floating down the hall with ire.
You laugh out loud, loud enough for him to hear, and get comfortable with your book. You read for probably another hour before Dawson summons you to the guest room to inspect his handiwork.
When you round the doorway, Dawson’s eyes grow wide, noticing that you never put your panties or shorts back on. He’s standing next to the bed as you approach and he licks his lips. “You’re sure we can’t christen my handiwork?” He asks again.
“No,” you insist. “Merc, you already got what you needed.” You roll your eyes and flip the bird at your best friend, chastising him for being insufferable in his desire for you. “You’re such a horndog.”
Dawson shrugs. “Can you blame me? I’ve seen you how beautiful you are naked, I’ve heard how pretty you sound when I’m fucking you, and I’ve been loving you since forever. Just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to ask. You’re lucky I ask because you know I could pick you up and take you, and you’d love it”
“Do you want me to call you a wah-mbulance?” You retort, folding your arms over your chest. You glare at him with an eyeful of reproach, but he’s right. He’s taken you like that before and it’s been incredible, something you’ll even ask him for on occasion.
“Want you to let me fuck you,” he replies in the same tone, mirroring your actions.
You two stare at each other before bursting out in laughter. You walk over and loop your arms around Dawson’s neck, pressing your body against his and giving him a chaste kiss. His hands rest on your hips, holding you tightly. He kisses you again.
“Go to bed, Merc,” you say when you finally pull away. You step back. “Let me know how the bed feels.”
Dawson bids you goodnight and turns around. You walk to the door. You leave the room and make it all the way to your bedroom before you hear a crash and rush back in.
Dawson is smiling, proud of himself as you take in the lopsided bed. One of the legs of the frame has been hastily removed and if you’re not mistaken, you can see it peeking out from where Dawson’s arms are crossed behind his back. “Oh no,” Dawson says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “It broke. I guess I have to sleep with you.”
Your mouth drops open in disbelief and you let out a laugh. “Dawson!” You exclaim, still giggling. “What’s the matter with you?”
Dawson shrugs. “Well, I can’t sleep on a broken bed,” he tells you. “That would be unsafe.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want that.” You play along, a small smile still written across your face.
Dawson takes a step forward and bats his eyelashes at you. “I guess I have to sleep in yours.”
“You’re insatiable,” you tell him. You turn on your heel and leave the room, listening for the clatter of the leg of the bed before Dawson’s footsteps trail after you. Both sounds come, just as you expected, and Dawson’s hands find your hips again. He walks with you, pressed along your back, lips attached to the back of your neck.
“I want you,” he teases, his voice light and melodic in your ear. He reaches his hand up and traces your neck. “Don’t I get a reward for building furniture for you?”
“You already got a snack.”
“Ugh, but then you took it away from me after I made you come,” he complains. “And you’re teasing me, not putting your panties back on before checking my work. It’s a little slutty, baby. Is that what you wear for all the people that come to work in your house?”
Now in your bedroom, Dawson turns you around and walks you back until your knees hit the edge of your bed. You fall down onto the mattress and bring Dawson down with you. He reaches up your shirt and grabs a handful of your tit, gripping it in a way that directly contrasts how he was just holding it on the couch.
“No bra either,” he notes, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in. “You give all these workers quite a show.”
“You know I only dress like this for you, Dawson,” you reply.
“Wish you’d commit to the bit and just be naked all the time.” He kisses your shoulder, other hand sliding up your shirt to grasp your other breast. He kneads them both, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers.
“Wish you’d take an article of clothing off,” you retort.
“I’ll take it all off for you if you want me to, baby, just say the word,” Dawson promises. “Can I take your shirt off? Wanna get my mouth on these pretty tits.”
“Only if you take yours off too.”
Dawson doesn’t waste a second, pushing up to stand over you. He grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing his muscular body to you. His chain falls between his collarbones beautifully and it makes your breath catch in your throat. He unbuckles his belt and pops the button on his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down his legs, leaving him just in his boxer-briefs. The dark gray briefs leave nothing to the imagination and you bite your lip, gazing at the wet patch on the front of the briefs, right at the tip of his dick.
You reach up and Dawson grabs your hands, pulling you into a sitting position. You raise your arms and he kneels between your legs, pushing your shirt up and bunching the fabric in his hands before he pulls it over your head and reveals your body to him.
Dawson kisses up your stomach, slowly rising from his knees. He lifts you up and gently places you down so your head is on the pillows at the top of your bed. He then leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, shoulder, collarbone, and sternum until he makes his way to your breast.
He takes your nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it. He grinds down on the bed, rolling your other nipple between his fingers again. You moan and once he’s determined that your breast has received enough attention from his mouth, he switches to the other one. It’s slow and sensual, with Dawson taking his time and savoring the moment and the sounds that he pulls from your lips.
“Dawson.” You find your voice, signaling to him that it’s time to move on.
“Mmm?” He continues to suckle on your chest, leaving a hickey on the side of your boob now.
“Fuck me,” you say. “Come up here and fuck me.”
“Yeah?” Dawson asks, pulling away from you to grin at you. “Need my cock, baby?”
You pretend to think. “Need is an exaggeration,” you tell him.
Dawson scoffs and leans down to kiss you, lining his cock up with your entrance. “No pussy gets this wet if ‘need is an exaggeration,’ sweet girl.”
You whine as he sinks into you and he lets out a breath that sounds like a groan, his head falling with the sensation. He presses his forehead against yours and bucks into you, holding back to take in the sensation of your heat around him. He always gets pussy drunk on you and goes too fast, loving the way you squeeze him and milk him for every drop. It’s only so long before he does it again and starts to really fuck into you, but he’s intoxicated now by the slow drag of your walls against his length.
“So warm, so wet,” Dawson groans. “All for me.”
“All yours,” you agree. You close your eyes and kiss Dawson, swallowing the moan that comes from his lips at your words.
His hips start to pick up speed. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
Dawson’s hips move with desperation. It’s the easiest way to bring him to his climax, you’ve learned over the past year. He’s possessive over you and although you’re not boyfriend-girlfriend, he knows that you belong to him. When you admit it, when he hears those words come from your mouth, it squeezes at his heart the same way you clench down on his cock when he hits that spot inside of you.
“Dawsy,” you breathe out, clutching at his shoulders. “Feels so good.”
With every thrust of his hips, he brings you closer to your second orgasm of the night. He thrusts forward and sucks at your neck, leaving wet kiss after wet kiss. His saliva cools on your neck as his wet, hot pants leave his lips. He grunts and kisses you deeply, his tongue filling your mouth as deliciously as his cock is filling your pussy. He pulls back and looks down, watching his cock disappear into your heat.
“Fuck me,” he whispers, pressing a hand against your stomach and feeling himself inside of you.
A wanton moan leaves your mouth, back arching from the pressure. Your mouth hangs open and Dawson leans up, biting your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Feeling good, honey?” He asks quietly. “Love hearing you.”
“Yes, yes,” you chant, and you let out a squeal when Dawson reaches up to give your nipple a sharp pinch. “God!” Your stomach turns, so close to climaxing. With every light touch of his fingers and the consistent kiss of his cock to the spot inside you that makes you see stars, you inch toward your peak.
“Just me,” he says, cheeky but like it’s an afterthought. He soothes the pinch with a kiss before leaning back up to kiss you. His hips stutter and Dawson groans. “Gonna come, baby,” he says. “Gonna come with me?”
“Always,” you whine, voice high in the back of your throat but sounding far away, like Dawson’s fucked your soul right out of your body.
“Come,” Dawson breathes out, hips stuttering as he moves them with abandoned fervor, chasing a high that’s just out of reach. “Come, baby, need to feel you. Need you to come on my cock before I do, please,” he begs. “Fuck!”
You can’t control the scream that bubbles in your throat as you let go, juices absolutely soaking Dawson’s cock inside you and the covers beneath you. It wasn’t often that he made you squirt, but tonight was one of those nights. Your release burst out of you like a dam and left you completely boneless on the bed.
It only took a few more thrusts for Dawson to whimper and shoot off inside of you. You’re like a vice around him, clenching down so hard that it’s almost difficult to thrust in and out of you. “Sweetheart,” Dawson whines, voice dripping with emotion. “So tight, fuck, love your pussy.”
He collapses onto you, his head on your chest, his hands on your waist, his weight pressing you into the bed the same way he trapped you onto the couch earlier in the night.
You trace the lines of his face with your thumb as your breath syncs with his and you both come down from your climaxes.
Dawson hasn’t pulled out yet, his cock still half-hard inside of you. He moves his hips slowly, fucking his cum into you at an excruciating pace.
You plant a kiss on Dawson’s head and hug him to your body. “We should probably get up, Daws.”
Dawson shakes his head. “Gonna fall asleep right here.”
You let out a chuckle. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Dawson looks up at you with tired eyes. “Gonna keep my cock inside you all night, wake you up by making you come again.”
You let out a breath at that, clenching down on him subconsciously. You can’t help it. He’s so honest and he’s unabashed about how he wants you.
He smiles, almost devilish. “You like that idea, huh?”
“Gimme a kiss,” you request, puckering your lips and waiting for him to come to you.
He does easily, unashamed and eager. “Could kiss you all night long.”
“Don’t, I’m tired.”
“Just think,” Dawson murmurs against your lips. “We could’ve done all of this in your guest bedroom.”
“Well someone broke the bed.”
“I wouldn’t have had to break the bed if you had just slept there with me.”
You two bicker like a married couple before you remove Dawson’s cock yourself and swing your legs over the side of the bed. He trails after you when you head to the bathroom, brushing his teeth with your toothbrush as you use the toilet. It’s all very domestic and you argue with him about the toothbrush, too, because he has his own and knows exactly where it lives (next to yours in the holder). You steal the brush from his mouth and leave him to rinse his mouth of the minty substance. You turn your back to him to hide the satisfied smirk on your face when you pop the toothbrush in your mouth without rinsing it of his germs.
When you make your way back to bed after cleaning yourself up, Dawson lays behind you and plasters himself to your back. He slips his cock back into your heat again and sighs, settling into the comfort of your heat. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck and breathes evenly until he falls asleep. You fall asleep with him, and if Dawson makes good on his promise of fucking you awake, that’s nobody’s business but yours.
notes: don't ever put me in a room with dawson mercer because i will make it my mission to stockholm sydrome that boy. welcome to my longest fic yet and man, oh man, did i have fun writing this.
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𝙰 𝚂𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝙾𝚏 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 ? II
Pairing ; Hazbin Hotel X G/N Teen!Reader
Warnings ; implications of Abuse/Manipulation
Word count ; 5.9K
Summary ; You and Rosie are on an outing together, purchasing clothing and eat a meal together! Little did you know you were about to start a new chapter in your life.
⁀➷Prologue, ꕥ chapter I, ꕥ Chapter II
The grass excels a beautiful green color as it gently flows with the breeze, allowing it to pass through with multiple leaves and petals that have fallen from the mixed trees. The different trees sway softly as they sunbathe underneath the tropical sun. There’s a soft smell of grass and flowers that beams through the air.
The park is as empty as ever— not a sound can be heard. The flower gardens are overgrown and the benches are on their last leg, as vines have taken over the majority of them, painting them in the colors of nature; with the orange slowly but surely fading away.
Your eyes stare at the photo of Minori, Yuki, Rinku and you.. standing in this park on its dock with big smiles on your faces. You look so happy..
They look so happy.. you were at peace when you were with them.
You can still remember the scent from the picture, even if your only looking at it. You smile sadly at your phone, you miss them, you really do but your mother has restricted you from seeing them under the exam-season.
Yes, you may have not obeyed that rule as you’ve been meeting them in secret, but it still pained you that you weren’t allowed to be with them.
According to your mother they were ‘bad influences’, due to them not being ‘study motivated’.
You have tried explaining to her that you did help them by tutoring them, she got very angry — or maybe annoyed was the right word? Either way she told you that it would stunt your own development if you needed to assist others all of the time instead of focusing on my own studies. Her claims were ludicrous, but she is your mother after all, and they.. do know best.
Your eyes scan the photo, it looks so cheerful, you were all doing silly little poses while smiling. The matching flowers you all decided to wear in your hair blends very well with the cherry blossom leaves falling in the background of the photo. The screen light is the only thing you can focus on right now, as the ends of your bittersweet smile can only grow.
That day was one of the best days in your life. You were able to clear your head, be away from your studies and you were able to be with your friends. It was an actual dream come true and you wanna go back to that moment.. maybe if you just space out you can relive that moment..
“[Name] what are you looking at, dear?”
Her smile is sweet, offering you your false sense of security like she always does. Or maybe it is real..?
You snap out of your day dreaming state, her voice fills the empty air as she speaks your name. Your vision blurs and you blink helping you regain your vision whilst putting your phone down — looking around.
You are standing in a darkened room, it’s filled with quiet whispers as they look at the different exhibits. Wait.. weren’t you just at home? When did you go to the art exhibit. You can’t seem to remember anything as your eyes fixate of your mother remembering her question.
“Ah, i was just looking at the time”
You pause before you continue,
“I know you allowed me to have a study free day so i could join you at this art exhibit, and i am thankful that you wish for me to broaden my creative mind! So i was only checking the time making sure we didn’t have to go home anytime soon!”
Lies, lies and more lies drip through your teeth, it’s like your whole life is built up on lies. Lies to please her, lies to please your mother. You feel your own body enter a dull state, slowly draining all your emotions like a puppet on a string, your eyes feel more dull, you can barely remember if you have blinked at all.. you force a smile as your eye twitches, luckily your mother didn’t notice.
“I’m glad you are enjoying your time here, honey! How about we take a look at that painting over there?”
She asks you; looking at you expectantly awaiting a response.
“Yes mother, let’s! It looks quite lovely from over here.”
Her face turned into a pleased expression clasping her hands together as she begins to make her way towards the painting. You follow — having your hands intertwined as they sit in front of you. You keep a steady pace as you follow her, hearing a tap with every step you take. You swiftly make your way to a small crowd of people admiring the displayed painting.
You squish yourself into the crowd surrounding the painting. It reeked of perfume, it made your nose scrunch up as you felt the different fragrances collide creating that horrid stench. You look to your right — eyeing your mother before you follow her gaze letting yours land on the painting. It is a very strange piece.? It has a few lines and circles drawn on it. It barely had any variation with shapes or colors, it was a simple painting only using different shades of greens and blues. How do people enjoy this so called ‘art’? It feels empty, there’s no thought or emotion put into that thing.. there’s no message the art is trying to forward, there’s no eye catching features, it’s a whole lot of nothing. At least from what you can tell.
You grow restless.. the painting goes from boring to ugly, you don’t want to see it anymore, no. You want to leave.. standing in the crowd makes you feel nervous, it feels as if a pair of eyes are always on you, the feeling haunts you and sends a shiver down your spine. Despite this spacious room and the fact it’s not filled to the brim with people you still fear that you are being watched, making you feel a need to make no mistake. Make no mistake. You can’t make a mistake. Ever. Never ever. Why is the room so wide.. why is it so dark, why is it so cold..?
You exhale quietly and you swore you were able to see a little cloud form in front of your face due to the chilly air. A voice snaps you out of your strange day dreaming state once again.
“Dear this piece has such value doesn’t it?”
God, you really gotta stop doing this. Your neck snaps towards your mother’s direction, a forced smile stays plastered on your face.
“Yes of course, i liked its creative aspects quite a lot.”
Lies, come on just speak the truth!
“Are you ready to move onto the next piece?”
Yes, you don’t want to be here: you wish for her to let you go home.
“Yes mother!”
You escape the rich scent making your way out of the crowd.
Clack. That sound echoed though the venue as the picture perfect mother and child makes their way to another painting, this one only had a few people admiring it and you mentally relaxed ever so slightly — knowing it won’t have that rich people scent all over the place. Your mother and you finally reach the painting, your eyes land on the colorful canvas and it reminds you of something.
The painting resembles a beautiful flower that’s placed inside of a vase, that is on a cozy wooden table. The flower in itself struck you with such a spesific feeling, like something you’ve seen before. It has such gradient colors and this is something that pulls you in. You could tell that the artist has put their heart and soul into this and there is definitely some kind of message that you might not be able to decipher — but you knew that this painting was something special.. Wait a minute..
It’s as if a puzzle has been solved inside of your brain, a certain piece of said puzzle that has been misplaced finally finds its place. This flower is recognizable due to it being the same flower you and your friends were wearing in the picture! You feel a strange wave of happiness sending throughout your body, you feel like you’re back in control it’s you now, it’s really you. Like the strings have been lifted but you lifted them on your own.
“Oh my god, [Name]? I never knew you were into art, what are you doing here!”
Arms wrap around your shoulders as you hear a chuckle, they spin you around only to lock you in a hug. Your eyes lay upon the figure who’s hugging you, it was the one and only Yuki. She normally isn’t this affectionate, but it’s probably due to the fact you haven’t been able to meet her a lot recently.
“Oh, dear is this a friend of yours?”
You freeze in Yuki’s grip feeling her arms gently let go of you, freeing you from her warm embrace. You don’t want her to meet her, what if she.. disapproved.?
“Yes mother, this is Yuki!”
You pause before you stand in the middle of the two your eyes mostly staying on your mothers.
Her snake eyes — eye Yuki up and down with a judgmental look before her face softens up and she smiles calmly.
“Hello there Yuki, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
⋇⊶⊰ n o ⊱⊷⋇
Your body leans against the oddly comfortable mattress in your newfound room. You had been in Rosie’s care for a few weeks now and you have grown quite fond of her. Rosie has always been such a darling to you, prioritizing your needs over her own. She has helped guide you throughout hell and there’s quite a lot you had to learn.
You made sure to jot down the most important parts in a notebook, just in case. Your fingers trace alongside the surface of the notebook, it had a black cover with a rose on it. Allowing your thumb to fall on the cover of the notebook, opening it.
The first page has the headline ‘Important’ on it. The handwriting was a very readable one, something your mother had taught you from an early age
“Having a presentable writing style will make you stand out above the rest and bring you more job opportunities”
Gosh, you really need to stop thinking about her, she isn’t here anymore. She isn’t here. Is she? You are your own dependent person now, heck Rosie is more of a mother than she ever will be. Your strings have been cut and you are no longer her puppet.
You’re grateful for having Rosie take care of you, really. But the freedom hell was able to provide you was an overwhelming sensation to say the least.
Before you fell down to hell your mother controlled your whole life, from your clothes to the actions you made, it was all things she controlled on your never ending stage.
It was like you were acting in a one man show — creating the most pleasing stage performance to the person you were supposed to love and trust the most.
You were tired, really really tired and you had never taken a notice to this until you got an actual good nights rest your first few days here with Rosie. You were forced to be in bed rest by Rosie, and she was not taking no for an answer. She has brought you meals, decorative items for your room and went to you just to chat about her emporium and other gossip. You listened to her rants, her voice had such emotion, emotion your mother never was able to give you. Rosie and you also had had conversations about the pain in your throat, she made sure to bring you all sorts of foods and drinks trying to help you get better, and within these few weeks it was like you were building up a kind of ‘talk tolerance’. You were now able to hold multiple conversations before your throat gives you the sensation of that sharp pain you felt once you first meet Rosie.
Speaking of Rosie, she wished for you to join her for an outing today.
You weren’t quite sure what the outing was for but you knew she was going to bring you outside of cannibal town, that in itself is a rare occasion. You swing yourself off of the bed letting your feet land on the floor with a quiet ‘thud’. You stand up and stretch, raising your arms towards the ceiling as you let out a yawn, stretching your sore muscles. You let out a satisfied exhale as you walking over to your drawer hearing a creek sound coming from the creaky wooden floors with each step you take.
You slip on some clothing that Rosie has been lending you over these past weeks, they might have been a tad big on you, you didn’t mind though. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring your demon features before you fix your hair making you look presentable. You slip on some shoes before you reach out for the golden knob on the vintage themed door.
Your eyes look back to glance on the room once last time before you leave, making sure to hadn’t forgotten anything, not that you had much to leave anyway..
Once you confirm that there’s nothing you’re leaving behind you twist the doorknob and exit the room.
You make your way though the darkened hallway, it’s only light being provided by a little lamp at the end of the hallway. Your fingers trace along the cold wall as you walk to the end of the hallway. You really liked the vintage theme to the whole town, it’s just like the history books you used to read and it makes you feel welcome, you used to have a modern home back on earth so this was a nice change of pace. Your feet clack whilst making contact with the wooden flooring, your footsteps are the only thing that can be heard down the echoey hallway, you steadily reach the wooden stairs. Your hand reaches to hold the un-even railing of the staircase as you begin walking down it, carefully letting your hand slide down the railing to make sure you don’t get any splinters. You stumble when you’re at the bottom step and clumsily make an entrance to the emporium.
You quickly straighten your backs and brush of imaginary dust off of your clothing, wishing to the seven rings of hell Rosie did not see your little mishap. Your eyes scan the area landing on Rosie standing behind the emporiums counter, you feel warm upon seeing her little smile as she counts money, it seems that her shop has been doing very well today! You feel a smile grow on your face as your legs gravitate towards the counter, step after step you slowly get closer to Rosie with your quiet footsteps tapping on the stone like floor. Rosie seemingly was stuck in her own world as you reached the counter and stood behind it, not sure if she was able to sense your presence. You were about to clear your throat to catch her attention but her voice interrupted your actions;
“Ah, [Name] you have finally arrived, you know keeping a lady waiting is very rude now— oh I’m just kidding no need to break a sweat over this dear!”
She chuckles at her own ranting before she places the money back in the register, her fingers fiddles with a stubborn lock and you decide it’s a good time to ask her what you are even going to do.
“So, Rosie. You have never taken the time to explain what exactly this outing is for?”
You say this wearing a normal expression, but your voice gives you away as it sounds more confused if anything.
Rosie lights up ever so slightly at the mention of the outing as she clasps her hands together,
“Well my dear [Name], we both know that you have been borrowing a lot my stuff since you have arrived here,”
She pauses wich leaves room for you to input an apology.
“Yes about that I’m sorry Rosie—“
“No no! I do not mind at all, after all if i didn’t wish for you to borrow my things i wouldn’t have permitted you to use them.”
You knew arguing with Rosie about this wouldn’t lead anywhere, she was a stubborn lady who stood her ground, you respected that and honestly kind of envied it. It’s something you were never able to do, stand up to yourself.
Rosie places a hand on her hip as she continues with a soft look on her face.
“Well the reason for this outing today is that we are going to purchase you new clothing! I believe you would like to wear other clothing than what you are borrowing from me at the moment, hm?”
You have never really thought of it before, you were used to your mother purchasing all of your clothes so getting to borrow some from Rosie was nothing too different. Rosie’s clothing may have been a bit too oversized on you but it was nothing that hindered you, from work or anything of the sorts but you have been a bit interested in the world of clothing, maybe this is a way you’ll be able to express yourself! Maybe a new start? You like the sound of that, the sound of you becoming your own person.
“While i don’t mind wearing this, they are quite comfy after all! It would be nice with something that’s a little more.. me.?”
The end of the sentence trails off feeling like you’re having a hard time choosing the right wording.
She chuckles and lets one of her hands fall onto your shoulder, patting it before making her way to the front of the counter. Your hands fold as you let them rest in front of you.
“Shall we?”
Rosie says, offering you a toothy smile as you nod. The two of you make your way to exit the emporium.
⋇⊶⊰ s t u c k ⊱⊷⋇
The sound of you and Rosie’s footsteps straddling along the sidewalk can barley be heard as demons outside of cannibal town seem to be more indecent, loud fights and conversations followed along with blasting TV’s follow trough out the streets of the pride ring. Your eyes dart around the overwhelming streets. You feel rather tense, staying on guard with each step you take. With every passing second your muscles become more sore as you feel uncomfortable.
You never knew what to expect from hell.. but this was exactly like Rosie explained it — if not even worse..
You feel a slender hand find its way on the small of your back as it makes you stop in your tracks and urge you in a direction to a certain store. Your head swiftly turn only to see Rosie standing there with her normal grinning self looking down at you giving you a reassuring smile. Your head turns to the direction she is urging you in. It was a tailor store, and it was also the only eye catching store on the street as it was the only store that hadn’t been completely torn.. You hesitate before reaching your hand out to the handle. your fingers slowly grip around the oddly long handle.. huh its strangely cold for something that’s in hell. You inhale deeply trying to shake off the odd feeling you’ve got brewing inside of you.
The inside of the shop has a very cozy feeling, it has very fitting colors that reminds you of the Victorian era. There’s very over-the-top fancy decors on both furniture and clothing with golden accents. Your eyes dart around the store landing on different mannequins dressed in all sorts of clothing, from frilly to pointy, casual to formal — there’s a bit of everything in here.
“Oh this shop has always had such a nice feeling to it, maybe i should ask them to be a part of cannibal town! Haha”
Rosie laughs at her little comment before her eyes dart to you,
“So dear, what do you think? Where would you like to start?”
Her question makes you stop in your tracks, she’s right, where should you start? You could start with shirts? Maybe pants? Maybe accessories — ugh.. this is gonna be harder than you expected.. you consider your options
“How about we take a stroll around the shop? And see if i find something eye catching along the way?”
She agrees with you as she follows you around the store.
You have a hard time at first, it was difficult learning how to figure out your likes and dislikes. You feel different pieces have different textures and colors, you now have an understanding for your mother who took a long time in stores like these — it was a struggle picking out outfits that would look nice together.
It takes you a second but you start warming up a little after Rosie points out a few articles of clothing here and there and not long after, you’ve managed to fill a bag of clothes. You feel proud of yourself, it’s your beginning to the new you. The clothing you’ve picked out is very different from what your mom used to choose for you. You were always told as a kid that you were dressing in such an ‘adult’ like-way, little did they know it was cause you never were allowed to choose clothing of your own.
You take a quick look through the bag feeling that you’ve picked out enough clothing to fill out your wardrobe. Rosie was hesitating — feeling that you could pick out even more but she decided to sneak in a few more pieces just to help you out a little.
When you told Rosie you felt finished with your shopping the two of you went to the fitting rooms.
You feel the soft fabric of the curtain against your fingers as you open it with a bit of force. Rosie hands you the bag she’s been carrying all of this time and you let out a quick ‘thank you’ before closing the velvet curtain allowing you to change.
There’s multiple mirrors in the dressing room and it feels so strange being able to see yourself from different angles all at once. You gently place the bag on the floor with a little ‘plop’ before you bend down picking up different pairs of shirts and trousers gently placing them on the little black wooden stool inside of the dressing room. You undress yourself, starting with your shirt, then the rest. You get kind of distracted being able to see yourself in the mirror in such a state, yes you’ve seen your full demon form before but it still strikes you as odd no matter how many times you see yourself. Your hands hover over the shirts before you find one that sticks out amongst the rest as you pick it up. You raise your arms sliding your hands and head trough the holes of the shirts, and as its on you adjust the shirt smoothing out any wrinkles you can find. You smile to yourself, the shirt has a very soft color and it has a few frills adding some volume to it. Now all you needed were a pair of trousers, you find a pair that you see fit with the shirt and slide them on, you can feel the soft texture of the trousers and it is very comfortable.
You admire the outfit you’ve put on in the mirror, it really suits you and you feel it brings out a whole new side from you. Huh i guess, ‘clothes makes the sinner’ really is true!
“I’m done!”
You say in a louder tone, a tone audible enough for Rosie to hear but not close to make anybody else believe you’re an obnoxiously loud asshole.
Your voice tells Rosie that you’re done and her face turns to the silky curtains you’re hiding behind, looking expectantly at it. Your hands grab onto the velvet curtains struggling once again to slide the curtain open, but as it slides open you take a step out of the dressing room, resting your hands clasped together in front of you like you usually do. You were expecting a reaction from Rosie but you were certainly never expecting her to start clapping to the outfit you’ve put together.
“My, this is definitely better than i expected! It fits you so well, dear!”
She coos followed along by a chuckle;
“Go on now, don’t just stand there! Give me a little spin!”
You do just that, lifting the weight off of your feet as you give Rosie a gentle spin showing her your whole outfit.
She keeps on complimenting you and your outfit making you feel embarrassed as your cheeks grow warm.
“Aha.. thank you Rosie, I’m glad you like it.”
Your words were short but your voice sounded sincere, you are not used to all this attention she’s giving you.. but you have got to admit that it feels nice.
“Here dear, try this hat on I’m sure it will add to your look quite a lot!~”
She gives you a playful wink, followed by her hands reaching out for your head, gently placing the hat on you. Your head turns to look into one of the mirrors in the dressing room. You felt a bubbly feeling inside of your chest, you just felt so happy.. you looked so pretty — and it’s all thanks to Rosie letting you be, well you! You smile feeling a little tear build up, but you softly rub your eye and turn back to Rosie with a smile, an authentic smile.
“Thank you Rosie!”
You chuckle along side with her as she pats you on the back;
“Of course dear, you look lovely!”
Her hands move from your back to your shoulders before she urges you into the changing room once again, she lets go of your shoulders once you’re in the room and grabs onto the curtain.
“Try on those other outfits now! We don’t got all day i still have a few things planned for us!”
You felt very confident after the interaction. Rosie has been nothing but supportive and that doesn’t change as you try on the different outfits. She praises them one by one and it was strange.. you don’t remember placing some articles of clothing in the bag? Oh well, it worked out in any case so that’s fine. When you were done with the little ‘shopping spree’ you felt famished and Rosie suggested that the two of you headed to a restaurant that she had been eyeing for a while, you trusted in her style and the two of you made the way to a restaurants. It was a very classy restaurant and multiple sinners where there, sinners with more money and have a higher status in hell. You may not really be important to hell but you are in important company. You believe you recognize multiple of the sinners there. At one of the tables you believe that Carmilla sits there along side with her daughters, on another table across the restaurant your able to see the Vees— their loud and obnoxious well at least Vox and Valentino is Velvette couldn’t care less it seemed. A sinner came up to you and Rosie bringing the two of you to a table that’s placed far away from Carmilla and the Vees.
The table presented in front of you seems to be in a more secluded area as multiple tables were empty. You thanked Lucifer for being in a less crowded space. You feel your tense shoulders soften up and only then you realized how truly tense you have been this whole outing. You exhale quietly before pulling out the chair that’s presented before you, it is a very.. normal chair, nothing special like you thought this place would be since Rosie seems to prefer class. You sit down onto the not-so-soft chair.
“You seem to have finally relaxed dearie, did you not enjoy your free shopping spree?”
She says that with a smug expression on her face as she sits down and crosses her leg over the other.
You feel a bit panicked — swiftly trying to explain yourself,
“No that’s not it at all Rosie! I appreciate your help! Hell is just — hell you know..!”
You chuckle quietly at your own pun as Rosie chuckles alongside you.
“Well i certainly can’t blame you for that, in any case dear welcome to one of my favorite restaurants in hell! Now i do prefer.. meatier meats, i assumed you were not into trying that yet, am i right?”
You nod not really saying anything, and after a second or so a waiter comes up to the table in a strangely good timing. You look at the waiter and they look tired, like they hate their job — you expect to hear a tired annoyed voice as they speak;
“What would you like Miss Rosie and..?”
“Mx. [Name] is fine!”
Their voice was strangely happy as they handed out the menu’s,
“So, what would the two of you like? Or shall i circle back later to take your order?”
You pick up the menu to scroll trough it quickly, there was a lot of options with really fancy names that honestly were hard to read.. but you did regonize some of the desserts.. ‘cheesecake’ ‘Velvette cake’ ‘cupcake’ ‘angel food cake’ hmm.. there is a lot of cake in here— wait! Angel food cake? Sign me up! You softly place down the menu noticing how both Rosie and the waiter was starring at you rather intensely and it made you feel nervous, so you stutter as you speak;
“I..l have the angel food.. cake.” You pause;
“Please.”
Rosie smiles and looks to the waiter,
“well you heard the little darling, one angel food cake, and double it!”
The waiter scribbles in their little notebook with their tired face looking more lively now.
“And what would you like to drink”
You felt the day has been kind of tiering, so a simple water couldn’t do you any harm.
“Just some water..”
The waiter nods and glances at Rosie whom just nods quietly telling the waiter she was going to order the same as you. The waiter quickly scribbles on the notebook before taking their leave the two of you to chit-chat.
Your eyes wander around the restaurant not specifically looking at anything in particular. Time feels — awfully slow for some reason, tick, tock ,tick ,tock.. the clock clouds your brain.
Its ticking reminds you of the late study sessions, the smell of your room. The god awful smell of cleaning products.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The day of you dying came back to you. The moments pretending to spare your mother only to murder her in cold blood. You remember her face, it was an expression you had never seen from her before - but you knew it all to well.
It was an expression you had worn multiple times before, she had made you feel so small.. so little, she got what she deserved .. right? Right. Im sure you’re just being dramatic, she never did you any good! She only feed you, bought you clothes, gave you a roof over your head she even made you meals…. all you had to do was study… no, no that’s not true stop!
“[Name] dear, you’re spacing out again, what are you doing in that little brain of yours hm?”
Your eyes flutter in confusion, your nose has now been filled with the scent of angel food cake, your pupils darted to the plate of dessert in front of you, it looked just like it did back on earth. Your eyes darted to look at Rosie’s and her expression is difficult to read, that’s Strange your normally swell at reading emotions.
“Sorry,”
Your voice sounded quiet and you raised it to a normal speaking volume;
“What were you saying Rosie?”
The lady chuckled at you before lifting a little fork in her hand taking a bit of the angel foodcake before placing it in her mouth, quickly swallowing it as she answers your question.
“Well pay attention now, for what I’m about to say is important.”
You nod at her statement letting your eyes remain on the gray ladies pupils as you pick up the silverware in your hand, the fork is small and you slice off a bit from your dessert parting your lips as you try the delectable dessert. The flavor beams through your mouth, it’s a bit too sweet for your taste but it makes you happy. You happily listen to Rosie as you chew on the little treat.
“It has been a lovely time to have you around the emporium, and you have brought me a good business I’ll tell ya that! But i believe it’s time..”
She pauses — you presume it’s for dramatic effect as you keep eating pieces of the angel food cake.
“..for you to go to the hazbin hotel.”
You choke on your dessert a little, your hand reaches out for the water as you quickly pour the liquid down your throat, to wash the stuck piece away. What did she just say. The hazbin hotel? The one she has spoken about before? Redemption? you? — hah no way!
You have stopped eating now and the little fork you used to hold in your hand has now fallen onto the plate, you don’t react through. Your expression is so confused, scared, surprised a whole package deal.
“Now dear, calm down you’ll be allowed to visit me anytime! I just believe you shouldn’t be stuck in hell for eternity, sure! You fucked up.. yeah you may be flawed, but i can tell that you’re a good kid, [Name].
“Even if i don’t believe in redemption, go prove me wrong with that strong will of yours!”
..does she actually mean that, does she believe you can be redeemed? You killed someone, but she still believes in you.. you take a deep breath — inhale, exhale.
“Are you.. are you sure.. i mean I’m not doubting you I’m just— what if they won’t accept me there..?”
Your voice struggles with the sentence you’re not sure what to say.. it all just feels like a big decision to make on a whim. Your hands fiddle with anything they can get their hands on and Rosie smiles sadly at you whilst your eyes dart down to look at your hands.
“I’m sure you will dear, and if anything and i mean anything bothers you, the emporium will always be open.”
Her words were calm, comforting even — but now her words weight on you. You want to do your best for Rosie.. but can you?
..
..
..
..
..
—
Of course you can.
Your [Name] after all.
⋇⊶⊰ y o u ? ⊱⊷⋇
You wave a nervous hand to Rosie before you turn a 180, allowing you to get a good view at the hotel. It is huge but has a very.. strange appearance, also it’s located on the side of the town isolated from everything else— that’s one of the weirdest things ever! You can feel your heart raising as you being walking up to the hotel, one step after another.
When you are stood at the door you take some deep breaths, come on! You have got this [Name]! You hesitantly reach your hand out to the handle before gently opening the door.
⋇⊶⊰ E N D ⊱⊷⋇
Sheesh, this was a long one! The author apologizes for the delay on the chapter and would like to say that he will publish chapters around every 2 weeks! He tries his best and nitpicks a lot on his story wich can delay the writing! He would also like me to inform that there’s now a tag list, so if you are interested please go ahead and tell us in the comments!
That’s all I’ve got to say for now, so i hope everyone enjoyed this story-telling session and i hope to see everyone back for more next time! Bye-bye now!
(Thanks everyone for the support on the recent 2 parts of this series, it makes me so happy to see people enjoy reading it and the reblogs has brought big smiles to my face! Thank you everybody sm<3)
~ Tags for reach ~
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what’s really embarrassing is my roommate on the phone with his mom saying “yeah i’ve been getting really sloppy i haven’t cleaned in a week it’s terrible” and my side of the room is just like that. all of the time. and i feel guilty but he also hasn’t ever said anything to my face he moved my stuff some at the beginning of the year but has never talked to me about it and i’m also so fucking ill that i just cant really handle adding that to my list while trying to also not fail school. so here i am being a terrible person i guess. did i tell you guys about turtle-person. have i showed my bracelets. i’m gonna go to sleep but in the morning i need to show my bracelets
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Thought about how given I’ve written so much for getter and rotate enough in my brain I could make hypothetical “how to write this characters” post if those even exists until I remember the factors of:
<the status of the tags doesn’t warrant a lot of writers as is and the only person to ask me this was a irl
<I don’t wanna be gatekeepy even if I wouldn’t put my bias into it
<who the fuck would it really be about besides ryoma and maybe hayato bc honest to god just grasping the team dynamic of the getter will make you be able to understand each individual pilot
<I doubt myself I even write 100% in character despite what I’m told 💀
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can’t you see ☆ mv1
genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader
word count: 3.2k
In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers
req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)
“What a fucking asshole.”
Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething.
“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”
Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled.
As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.
Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back.
“You say that every time.”
Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”
“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.”
“You’re older than both of us combined.”
“Hey!”
Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost.
“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.
“Is something funny to you?”
You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”
Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.
“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”
Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”
“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”
“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.
“Cute.”
You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”
As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2.
“Should I be worried about the rain?”
“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”
You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”
It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction.
“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”
It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.
Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined.
“Are you alright?”
Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.
“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.
“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”
Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.
-
“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”
“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”
It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.
“All I wanted was a warm soup.”
A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at hand.
“Hey.”
Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”
Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.
“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”
After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.
“He so likes her.”
-
“We might have been wrong.”
Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”
Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”
“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”
-
Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.
“I love a good soup!”
Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.
“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”
“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”
“Yeah, well, there’s one-”
“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.
“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”
Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”
The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.
“It’s definitely working.”
He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand.
“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”
-
Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.
“Watch it!”
Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression.
“What’s this hostile situation about?”
Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”
“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”
Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.
“You like her!”
“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”
“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”
It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”
“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.
“She doesn’t like me.”
Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”
Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.
“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink.
“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”
-
After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.
“More soup?”
Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-
“Wanna come in?”
Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair.
“I’ve never hated you.”
You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”
“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”
He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.
But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.
“T-that’s not what I came here for-”
“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”
Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie-
Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.
It’s him.
Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”
“I might need more.”
It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more.
You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you.
He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.
“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.
“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”
“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”
Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”
“I’m so-”
Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”
“Try again.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”
A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.
“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”
“Wh-”
“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”
He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.
“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”
And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him.
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They start kissing on stage as a joke.
The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."
Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."
"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.
"I don't know, other bands do it!"
Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.
Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.
They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.
Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.
The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.
He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.
But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.
They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.
The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.
He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.
They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.
They don't talk about it.
Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.
A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.
Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.
"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.
He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"
His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.
"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"
"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"
Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."
Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.
"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."
And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--
"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.
Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."
He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."
Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"
"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.
"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."
Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."
Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.
It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.
Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."
Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"
"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.
"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."
Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."
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cowgirl
a little bar challenge
word count: 1.1k
characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price
content: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much
"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.
the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.
"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."
you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.
"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."
you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"
"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."
Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.
"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.
"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"
after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience.
you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.
eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.
what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.
Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.
Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.
the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.
Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.
three minutes and forty-seven seconds.
"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken.
"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.
the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague.
"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.
your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.
after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.
okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...
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Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: After accidentally listening to your mate confess to his brothers that he thinks your clingy, you decided to give him space and discover who you are outside of your relationship. What happens when Azriel notices the distance between the two of you. Will he fix what he broke or will he make it worse.
Warning: Angst angst angst. Accusations of cheating. Azriel’s an ass by the end of this.
A/n don’t worry, I’m already planning on making a part two to this. I always try to have happy endings to all of my stories.
Part two Part Three Bonus Scene
ACOTAR Masterlist
Prompt list
She’s just- She's just very clingy. You were not supposed to hear the current conversation Azriel was having with his brothers. But that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to be hurt by what your mate was saying: “I just wish she would get a hobby or make friends outside of our inner circle. I feel like I can't go anywhere without her asking where I’m going or if she could tag along,” Azriel added and earned a disapproving look from Cassian.
“You don’t mean that,” Cassian argued back: “I would give anything for Nesta to want to spend that amount of time with me.”
It was no secret how complicated Cassian’s relationship with his mate. He’d vented to Azriel and Rhysand about his frustration with the current status of his and Nesta’s relationship. He told Azriel countless times how much he wished he had what you and Azriel had.
Not being able to stomach what your mate was saying about you, you disappeared into your bedroom and silently cried yourself to sleep.
The following morning, instead of waking up Azriel with breakfast in bed like you usually do, you decided to wander the streets of Velaris. In all the time you have lived in this city, you've never really explored it, only going to Rita’s, Rhysand's townhouse, and the river house.
You weren’t sure what you were looking for in particular, so you just decided to go with the flow and see where you ended up. You started with grabbing breakfast at a tiny restaurant you’ve probably passed a dozen times but didn’t notice until now.
Following that, you decided to shop to pass the time. You were ready to head home when you stumbled upon a dance studio. It was always your dream to be a dancer growing up, but seeing as your family was too poor for you to buy you lessons, your dream never got to be fulfilled. That was until today.
You contemplated if you wanted to enter the studio when a male stepped out of the building and asked: “Are you planning on signing up for classes?”
“No, no,” you shook your head as you wrapped your arms around your body: “I’ve never danced a day in my life, so I’ll probably make a fool of myself.”
The male let out a small laugh at your response: “Don’t worry, the morning classes are for beginners. Come, you can sit in during this class, and you could decide if you want to join after.”
You were about to decline his offer when the events from the night before flooded your mind again. She’s too clingy. She needs to get a hobby and make new friends. “You know what? Why not. I have nothing planned for the day,” you responded and followed the male into the dance studio.
It was lunchtime by the time the dance class was over, and you decided to sign up to start taking classes the following day. Everyone was so friendly to you, and you could tell the instructor was passionate about teaching others how to dance. That inspired you to sign up to take classes for a month and see where you go from there.
Throughout the class, though, you felt Azriel tug on the bond. Which was strange because he’d never done that before. You would reciprocate just to let him know you were ok.
As soon as you left the studio, you decided to stop by Rhysand’s townhouse to see Feyre and Nyx. To your surprise, everyone was there, including Azriel, who was currently playing with Nyx. This was strange because Azriel and Cassian usually spent most of their day training the Valkyrie.
“Y/n !” Feyre squealed with excitement as she ran to greet you.
Azriel’s immediately looked over at you. He wanted to go towards where you were so he could ask where you went in the morning, but Nyx forbade him from leaving where he was. So, instead, he had to hear you tell everyone what you were up to.
“That’s amazing !” Feyre smiled. She knew about your dream of being a dancer and has been trying to convince you to take classes with the money Rhysand has been paying you.
After spending an hour catching up with everyone, you told them you had to pick up a few things for your first day. “I promise I’ll come straight here after my first class to tell you how it went,” you promised while grabbing your things.
Azriel was surprised when you started walking towards the front door without asking him if he wanted to go with you. “Um, would you like for me to accompany you?”
“No, thank you,” you replied without looking at him: “But thank you for offering.”
While you were hurt by what Azriel confessed to his brothers, you weren't going to be rude towards him for his own feelings.
Everyone glanced at Azriel, puzzled because you always wanted Azriel’s company when you went out, especially if it involved shopping. “Is everything ok between you and y/n? She always wants you to go shopping with her, mainly so you can carry her bags, but still,” Mor asked.
“I don’t know,” Azriel replied honestly: “Last time I checked, we were doing ok.”
Cassian wanted to make a snide comment about the conversation they had the night before, but he kept his mouth shut.
That became your routine for the next six months. You woke up, went to dance classes, and either hung out with the new friends you made at dance class or spent time at the river house. As much as Azriel’s words hurt you, you could not help but thank him. If it wasn't for him, you would not be doing what you loved and creating so many new friendships.
Throughout that time, though, Azriel noticed you were pulling away from him. He missed waking up to you making him breakfast in bed. He missed when you would pester him about details of his day, but most of all, he missed your constant physical contact.
While you haven’t completely stopped touching him, he noticed you stopped sitting so close to him that you were basically on top of him. He also noticed you’ve stopped inviting him to go anywhere with you and stopped asking if you could tag along whenever he would go into town.
He was growing worried you were falling out of love with him or worse, you were cheating on him.
He knew your dance instructor was a male and grew paranoid that you were cheating on him with your instructor. “She’s not cheating on you Az. She loves you too much to do that to you,” Rhysand reassured Azriel.
“I would have believed you if you would have said that six months ago,” Azriel hid his face in his hands: “But she’s a completely different person now. She barely touches me anymore. The last time we had sex was over a month ago. I’m going crazy, and she doesn’t even care.”
Cassian couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Azriel’s comment: “Sex isn’t everything you know. Have you tried talking to her about this?”
“It is if we used to do it at least once a day, and to answer your question, no, I haven’t because she’s never home. She’s been at that dumb dance studio rehearsing for a recital they’re having tomorrow.”
“Instead of complaining about her dancing, why don’t you go to the recital to support her. Just because you think it’s dumb doesn’t mean it’s not important, especially to her,” Rhysand advised.
As much as Azriel didn’t want to, he did what Rhysand suggested and went to your dance recital the next day. He showed up with a big bouquet of roses that earned some stares from strangers in the audience. He didn’t care. He was there for you and only you.
And he was so happy he ended up going. He watched in awe as you danced so elegantly across the stage. He mentally cursed himself for calling what you were doing dumb because watching you dancing made him fall in love with you all over again. By the time the recital was finished, Azriel had a speech about how proud he was of you and how amazing you looked dancing on stage.
Unfortunately, right as he was about to approach you after the recital ended, your instructor pulled you into a hug and spun you around.
Azriel was fuming and threw the roses he bought for you on the floor before stocking over to where you were: “Azriel. You-”
You didn’t have a chance to finish before Azriel ripped your instructor off of you and started punching him.
“Azriel ! ! !” You yelled at your mate as he punched your instructor repeatedly.
It took six male faes to finally remove Azriel from your instructor. “I’m sorry y/n. You are a phenomenal student, but you can not attend my classes anymore. You and your mate are banned,” your instructor said before storming away.
You felt your heart break at the news you were given and found yourself dropping to the floor. To Azriel’s credit, he immediately regretted his actions and tried to comfort you: “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t,” you glared at your mate and started getting up: “How could you do this to me. You knew how important dancing was to me, and now you got me banned from the place I started to call home.”
“I’m your home ! ! !” Azriel yelled defensively: “I barely see you anymore because you spend all your time at that dumb dance studio. I just want my mate back!”
You let out a dry laugh at Azriel’s comment: “I was just giving you exactly what you wanted. For me to not be so damn clingy all the time. I found a hobby and made friends, but now you ruined it.”
Azriel stiffened at your words. He remembered the night he said those horrible words and the harsh words both Cassian and Rhysand had said to him afterward. They made him realize what he had with you was unique, and he should cherish every moment he had with you because tomorrow was never guaranteed, especially for them. He just didn’t know you overheard him say those things: “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”
“Save it. I can’t even look at you right now,” you inhaled sharply: “I’m going to stay with a friend for a few nights. Don’t worry, it’s not my instructor. Our friendship is clearly done after the stunt you just pulled.” You started walking away but turned around to add: “He’s gay, by the way. He has a partner and a beautiful son they adopted three years ago.”
And just like that, the weight of Azriel’s actions hit him as he watched you walk away.
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321
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My Charming Red Savior [1]
・❥ You’re harassed by a man following you down the street. Luckily, a rather smiley demon swoops in and claims to be your husband.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: no use of y/n. i said this was going to be short and I lied, it’s about 6k words.
warnings: mild swearing
Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..
You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using.
2…
“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go.
1..
You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-
Device powering down! Have a nice day :)
“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.
“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building.
It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out.
She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.
“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon.
You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting?
“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.
“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”
“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.”
“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!”
“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands.
It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.
Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by.
You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.
But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.
Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.
You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door.
Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.
When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life.
After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.
Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night.
Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!
Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news.
Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.
Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.
Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.
Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.
“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!”
You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.
“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.”
She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.
“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”
You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.
‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’
You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.
As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine.
‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’
Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left?
Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.
So, right it is.
You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.
But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips.
Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.”
The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.
“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.
Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who.
“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.”
Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.
How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you?
You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.
Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue.
Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven.
Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-
Crunch
What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more.
‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’
You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.
Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.
That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left?
You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.
Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house.
“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound.
He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.
There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile.
“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.”
“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.”
As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.
“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!”
“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”
You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped.
“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.”
You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.
That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.
“What’s the rush, Doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”
Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.
“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!”
“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.
You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?
He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era.
His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though.
Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.
Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’
Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.
“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?
“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.
The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.
“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.”
That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere.
“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone.
“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!”
Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man.
“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.
“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, Doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.
You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.
“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”
Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."
Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession.
Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit.
The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago!
On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.
A.
"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?
The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.
Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place.
There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man.
“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lovebirds.”
As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”
He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?”
You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?
Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt!
Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.
You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.”
“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?”
“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”
You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get.
Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.”
Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.
“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!”
He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger?
“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”
He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.
“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”
You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.”
“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”
“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”
“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.”
You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.
“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”
“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”
His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.
“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”
“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.
Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”
You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.
“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”
“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”
You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.
“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?”
“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.”
His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.”
“That’s awful! Who was it?”
Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”
Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.
Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot.
And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?
He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.
What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-
“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.
“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still?
You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile.
His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.
“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”
You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.
“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”
He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”
You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”
The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.
He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.
Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.
In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.
“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!”
“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.
“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?”
You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too!
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!”
You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.
“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.
She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“
She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?
“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!”
Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.
Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.
“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house.
Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it.
Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny
EDIT: Part 2 is coming!!
lmk what you think! :)
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The Interview | Lando Norris⁴
Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader
Warnings: smut
Requested: yes
A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3
Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.
Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.
As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.
“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"
"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.
His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.
"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"
Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.
"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.
Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.
Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"
For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.
You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"
“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”
“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."
Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.
“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.
Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.
You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.
“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.
You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.
You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.
The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.
Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.
While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.
"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”
As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.
As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.
You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.
The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.
Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.
“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”
"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.
You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.
Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.
Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.
Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.
“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.
“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.
Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.
“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.
Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.
“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”
His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.
Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."
Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.
Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.
Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”
You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.
You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”
Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.
“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.
His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.
“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”
“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.
“I was getting myself comfortable—”
“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”
His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.
In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.
Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.
As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.
“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.
You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.
“Then kiss me,” you breathed.
Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.
He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.
He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.
His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.
Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.
Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.
Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.
He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.
You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.
He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.
He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.
You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.
You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.
He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.
He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.
Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"
“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.
You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.
Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.
“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.
You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.
Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.
“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.
You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.
Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless.
You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.
You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.
You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.
As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.
With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.
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DPXDC prompt: Parents don’t approve of Dead on main
Fentons are geniuses but not multitaskers. They’re used to giving their all to the most important thing on the list, forgetting even food and sleep, and then going back to something else.
So when they find out that Danny is Phantom, they panic and can’t think of anything else. Well, until they see the Gotham News on TV. What does it matter if their boy’s ghost or not? He's in bad company now and dating a crime lord! That's a real problem. No time to whine about their research about the nature of ghosts. Their boy is in danger! Change of priorities, urgent change of priorities!
~~~~~
So, when Danny moves in with Jason because of identity reveal, Batman prepares for various outcomes. To the flow of GIWs in Gotham, to the parents of the boy who may continue to hunt him and even to the likelihood that Maddie and Jack will accept their child without any questions.
Bruce is a genius, but he forgets to include one important variable in the equation, namely his son. Despite the anti-hero’s current status, Red Hood is still remembered by the general public for his bloody methods of controlling Crime Alley. Which could definitely bother..anyone, to be honest. And it's understandable that video of Red Hood and Phantom beating Black Mask up on news did not make a pleasant first impression.
However, Bruce himself know a completely different side of his son and therefore could not tolerate the completely unfounded accusations from Maddie.
Batman: How dare you! My boy is an angel. Your son is incredibly lucky to have such a thoughtful and caring partner.
Jack: Yeah? I don't think so. How do we know he’s not just going to use Danno powers in his criminal plans?
Maddie: We’re taking our boy home and it’s out of the question.
Batman: Yeah? And how do we know you’re not just taking him for your experiments?
Danny *whispers*: Um, Jay, we should go away, if you remember.
Red Hood *whispers*: Yeah, yeah, I know. But just listen to it. Usually we can not get a word out of him. A temporary cure for emotional constipation is a true miracle. May your parents stay longer if, you know, they will not try to shoot you or smth else?
~~~~~
Maddie at home*aggressively filing a petition against anti-ecto laws*: I don’t care if the parental rights aren’t over the ghosts. How dare a bloody furry tell me I have no official right to take my son home and shove my own quotes in my face calling him a thing?!
Vlad who has long wanted to get rid of GIW *enters the house*: Bonjour, need a helping hand?
Jack and Maddie *exchange glances without knowing if Danny’s secret should be revealed to their friend*.
Vlad: Oh, for Ancients’s sake.
*Snaps his fingers and goes Plasmius*
Vlad: I’m also a stakeholder in it, okay?
~~~after two hours of talking~~~
Jack: Wait, V-man, if you know about Danny being Phantom, you know about his boyfriend too?
Vlad: Red Hood? How could I not. I often visit Gotham for business deals. This is a favorite topic of newspapers and gossip. I don’t know who he is without a mask but I must admit the guy has a good aim, a lot better than you, Jack.
Maddie: *pulls out the Ghost Peeler*
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how to lose a guy in 10 days — csc
choi seungcheol x reader
genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities
synopsis : you had to prove to your friends that you could easily make a guy lose interest within a week, having no interest in indulging yourself in a relationship after your past ones. all those relationships led you to narrow down a list on how to make a guy sick of you. you had all the card in your hands and seems like you don’t get to play it.
warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol, reminder that this is my take on the plot and it will not flow the exact same plots in the movie
i do not feel so confident about this bc i wrote this with mind in shambles. literally me comforting myself with svt while i'm dying from my studies rn :') pls tell me if you like it bc i would most def appreciate it <3
it was another slow day at work when you sat down at your desk and sighed. all your work mates and friends seems to confide in your reaction but your circle knew that this sigh wasn’t a “damn-im-so-stressed-and-sick-of-work-sigh” for them it was more of a “wow-life-is-hectic-its-almost-making-me-want-a-man”
and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.
“what?” you shooted
“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice
“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted
“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously
“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised
“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked
“like what doggy style?” karina questioned
“not like that you idiot” sakura glared
“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed
“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed
“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed
“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced
“i’m too tired for just fucks you know? it won’t take long before i actually get infection and i turn into a zombie and bite you all from all these stupid ideas” you rolled your eyes at your friends.
right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.
all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.
you were so sick on seeing tutorials or manifestation hacks on the internet because does anyone genuinely love each other anymore? all these “how to become a maneater”, “how to make them dream of you”, “how to make him fall in love using a potion” bullshit got you sick of people now.
why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.
“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area
“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution
“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head
“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned
“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said
“so like i should go out being an annoying red flag and see if he stays?” you giggle but it all went away when all your friends kind of agreed because they’re also sick of u having these guy problems already.
“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests
“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina
it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.
it was then your friends picked you up and pulled up to the bar. a few shots came by as you hustled through the crowd searching for your so called the one. but as you surf through the tables everyone fell short to your friends standards as if it was a big serious thing.
you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.
you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.
“him” she said, audible enough for the three of you to hear. you faced the guy she was referring to as all the noice fade into the background blur hearing yunjin screech and them clapping happily, your time froze.
the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.
“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question
“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied
“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.
“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you
“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.
“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered
on the other side of the bar there was a crowded group of 13 people who were mindlessly taking shot over shot as they were crowned as the most obnoxiously loud people for the night.
most of them spitting out tipsy thoughts to one another as they joined forces on pinning and choosing choi seungcheol as the victim for tonight.
“here comes the virgin joseph for tonight, choi seungcheol!” dk hooted while hoshi was giggling to any phrases the latter would make out
“isn’t it mary though?” joshua pondered drunkly on the edge of the couch munching on the nuts hoping it would make him sober as it was too early to go home.
“whatever, we still get the point. so what’s with the anti-women behavior cheol?” jeonghan grinned. his smile too wide to seem oblivious of the answer.
“i think dating is now deemed predictable to me,every woman i dated either wants my money, my body, fame, or a father figure” cheol sighed deeply
“wait you’re a dad?” dino’s brows furrowed in deep confusion as cheol stood there with utter disbelief
“i thought we we’re supposed to have a fun hangout today, and now all of you are just looking like alcoholics with all these bottles in our table” seungcheol complained
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ALCOHOLICS?!” mingyu exclaimed looking at the opposite direction of where cheol was.
“FUCKER I DIDNT CALL YOU ANYTHING” minghao retorted to a confused mingyu facing him causing cheol to place a palm over his forehead.
“how about you start charming women for who you truly are?” vernon continuing the passed topic.
cheol didnt know if he was thankful for vernon re entering a topic, all the “seemingly” sober people joined up on the topic. they soon somehow convinced cheol to meet new people and try making them fall in love with him.
kkuma needed a mom, maybe he did too (but not in a maternal sense
“i doubt scoups can make a girl fall in love with him” dino giggled in the verge of passing out.
“i sure can ! it’s like a walk in the park” seungcheol defended.
“not even within a month” jeonghan added
“not even a week” jun stared blankly.
seungcheol always had placed his pride on a pedestal, it’s the source of his cocky behavior.
“oh please, give me 10 days it would be like she’s under a love spell” cheol snickered blanketing his bruised ego.
“deal, i bet 20 that we’ll have another meeting on the 10th day having cheol drop dead drunk at thus exact spot” jeonghan screamed only standing for the first time for the night.
it was chaos after that, but the group was almost divided equally in the process of them making bets and weighing the odds of cheol’s fate.
seungcheol wished the ground opened its jaws and buried him six feet under
even he was lying to himself with his statement, but one thing about choi seungcheol— he always wins.
“i’m gonna head home now” cheol said, he wish he didn’t.
he somehow wished that they were all too drunk to force him into the grave he dug himself. mercy will be the end of their bond, so as fate has written cheol’s fortune.
“i guess cheol is accepting his pussy title” jeonghan sighed
“i am not a pussy” cheol responded
“then i guess you’ll have to prove that” joshua sighed blankly at him
“let’s start by choosing the lucky girl who’s gonna take cheol’s v card”
“i’m not even a virgin” cheol rebutted with a frown, the liquor making him submit to his true emotions.
“please you barely lost it” dk laughed
“well i barely felt it….” cheol muttered
“let’s do her” dino pointed at the wall as he stood quickly stumbling with his head spinning
“who’s he pointing at? did he shave his eyes as well?” woozi said laughing
“shut up pink panty guy, i’m talking about the girl that has red hair and wearing a black dress” dino said laying on the floor
“ooh, she looks hot like seungcheol’s type” jun teased
if he didn’t spot your bright auburn hair he would’ve sworn to himself that these guys we’re just throwing a hate crime at him, but god, you we’re his type.
“go on mr. choi, show us your charm” mingyu pushing cheol closer to your area in the bar
you were planning on stepping up, but you had to make one thing sure, so you turned around to your friends with burgundy rushing through your cheeks with the thrill throwing you into your pit of endless thoughts.
“makeup, and outfit : perfect” yunjin started with a wide grin
“hair : gorgeous and can easily make a ponytail” karina winked as you glared at her
“teeth clean and ready for sucking” sakura smiled
jesus christ you were asking for a reality check and they just simply can’t avoid adding scandalous statements as if that’s all you do.
you were ready
were?
are?
was?
fuck.
you backed up quickly as you saw a guy charging at your direction ready to barf up on you.
quick arms catches your moving physique, as your back became dependent on the person unbeknownst to you.
two groups filled your senses with squeals, laughing and cheering waking you up from your not so cute dilemma
you turned to the person behind you seeing the man of the night
choi seungcheol.
“you okay, sweetheart?” his voiced hush, you felt warm and you swore that is was just the buzz from the liquor
quickly you went to work
“omg thankyou o-oppa” you’re voice cracked because you simply cannot believe the words that escaped your lips.
there was terror in his eyes, the moment you saw it, it went away. a pretty grin was graced upon your lips because this will be one hell of a ride
he better be sure to keep his seatbelts on because you’re gonna totally rock his world.
day 1 : the tortoise and the hare
spoiler, the hare never wins
guys hate being speedy, if they’re looking for a woman they can take home to his mom it would definitely not be the woman who wants to be dicked down after the first date.
and this wasn’t even a date
he took you to his place after your so called friends left the both of you in the landmine
he only intended you to sober up, and you only wanted him to curse you off his life. but it would be no fun if you just did it in a day, wouldn’t it?
the sound of the collision of class and marble led to both of your eyes to be met.
“thank you, really, or what else i would’ve smelled like vodka and whatever the fuck that person just ate” you sighed in relief genuinely
“no worries, you don’t smell like barf or vodka…. maybe a little of tequila but you’re good” he smiled
fuck. he’s hot and he knows it, a part of you wished that he was some sort of narcissist so you could do this thing in a easier way.
his face sculpted and graced with beauty his eyes filled with wisdom and maturity, his lips full and shaded like cherries.
you we’re definitely down to have a fling with him, but according to you, you were planning to change your ways and test the purpose and ability of men.
“mhm, i’m tired let’s watch a movie?” you smiled with your forced high-pitched voice
you love how he would hide the way his face would wince when you talk or the way his jaw slacked on your statement.
you smiled at the thought of him trying to take you out of his multi-million mansion because you were pushing boundaries he built for you
“yeah.. sure, what do you wanna watch?” he assisted you by the waist as he brought you up the stairs.
you wanted to get out, you wouldn’t think that it would go like this. fuck the boys manual maybe it doesn’t work with hot rich guys
“the notebook, i LOVE that movie” you smiled and you could see how he expected that
as you laid in his sheets, which you felt deeply sorry for actually staining his pearly and silky shits with your outside clothes, but your pride held you high. if you fell from your pride or for him then maybe then you could wash his sheets.
the room was dimly lit, the ambience warm as he intended.
he sat next to you, with distance for respect according to cheol’s brain.
you couldn’t predict him, and maybe he sends mix signals, and that made you feel less guilty because you concluded that he’s a womanizer. he knew all of these antics a little too well.
“it’s getting hot” you sighed fanning your face adjusting your dress to the right extent, you held your hair exposing your neck to him making sure he saw it.
"really? my ac is so low right now" he was surely acting oblivious.
you may be frustrated at him for not taking your hits but you guess it would make a good build up, meanwhile he was there dumbfounded from all the tricks you pulled, he was slowly getting hard but that's another story.
he was thinking if he should drop it, it seemed like you just wanted a one night stand, but speaking of the devil (angel) jeonghan sent him a text showing him how much money he would be getting if he proved them wrong.
somehow in the end all of his friends were convinced that he would stay bitchless. there was a whole chapter within their groupchat making fun of what he said earlier at the bar.
truth be told, he didn't give a fuck about the money, he wanted his dignity and pride back.
"my body is so warm because of all the shots i took though" you reasoned out quickly.
"well my body is really cool right now" he faced you slowly pulling you close but you had other plans
you quickly kissed him as if you were desperate for it.
"mmm- i think we should slow down y/n" he rushed to tell you.
you wanted to grin so bad, victory laid on your side, but you had to put a sad face asking him if he no longer likes you repeatedly as he escorted you out of his house.
you quickly twirled and skipped across the road when you were sure he was inside already. he was there though, watching through his window.
maybe he had to step up.
day 2 : the in-laws
there was not a single text on cheols phone the next morning, soon learning your phone was inside the purse you left at his house.
he wanted to scan your purse thinking of a way to sweep you off your feet today. but a gentleman doesn't mess with a ladies purse.
after the the long chat you had last night, you exchanged your details to each other which now led cheol to your apartment building with flowers and a wide smile.
"hi i got these for you-"
"wait cheollie, say hi to your mom !" you cut him off with a smile
his face quickly shifting, you what?! he was slowly shaking on the inside quickly settling down your purse, flowers on your coffee table.
"h-hi mommm" he grinned as if his mom could see him.
"seungcheol i didn't raise you to hide your partners from me like this, i really like y/n you know, so when's the wedding?" his mom ushered
"a wedding?" you gasped and started screeching as if it was real
"we'll see mom haha.." he replied deranged from the situation made just 2 minutes ago. he quickly hung up before his mom could get any more ideas.
"well that was interesting, i didn't know that you knew my mom" he restrained himself from losing himself.
"well i have to meet your parents anyways right, cheollie?" you smiled at him
"yeah, but we just met yesterday" he deadpanned
"well, you don't think we're gonna work out" you started sobbing in front of him making small obnoxious hiccups
"well that's not what i meant baby" he hushed and spent the afternoon babying you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
day 3 : monday flings
"i seriously cannot fathom how much patience he has to reach day 3" you genuinely lay your opinion
"i was a complete total psycho, but he must be mental" you said to yourself
"that's fucking crazy because if i had to put up with that you would never hear from me again" sakura said bluntly which bruised and praised you at the same time
"i need a break from my alter ego as well, i hope he has no plans on asking me on anything anymore at least"
the day went as if you had never met choi seungcheol at all, which made you relieved for at least having a rest day, sure it was such a short time but god how tiring it was to be somebody else
"i just really realized how to fit in somebody else's shoes" you sighed as you and your friends exited the building together ready to go home and simply pass out.
"then don't fucking wear them" karina said
"but this is the whole point, being a stereotypical woman in a relationship"
you all soon parted in your own ways as you walked through the neighborhood near yours, you realized you just walked passed by seungcheol's house and this made you walk a bit faster and try to fabricate your distinguishable looks. but guess what
"aw baby don't hide from me" he coos slowly pulling you in his embrace.
"i was just looking for you" he smiled as he rushed you into his home
you somehow wished he could just stab you right now.
he led you to his living room filled with rose petals and candles dedicating a whole playlist of his vinyl records for you. you spent the evening sharing his home cooked dinner, which was actually delicious. and he soon brought out his photo albums from when he was a kid.
"do you think our children look just like you?' your sentence made you freak out but you supressed it wanting him to be affected by your vicious visions.
"how about we go back about the marriage thing for now" he faked out a laugh.
"i want this to be our family's house too" you sighed in content while scanning the architectural structure.
"if that's what you want" he smiled and pecked your forehead, which had caught you by a surprise.
"it is" you smiled, you didn't want to admit it but something formed within you when he said that.
"i'll be having a boys night tomorrow so i might not respond quickly to your texts"
"is it strictly 'boys only' ?" you asked forming an idea and swallowing these funny feelings that have bloomed within you.
"well it had always been"
day 4 : poker night
if fate was inevitable, they should you hit you up then.
you were in a cab with your hands filled with cheol's place in mind.
"cheol having a 4 day record is worth celebrating" jeonghan teased
"it's been that long?" mingyu asked actually impressed
"i've been in a lot of relationships since college, stop making it seem like im a loser" he sighed
"probably just in college" minghao retorted
"it's probably going well, maybe next year she could meet his parents" seungkwan noted
"please, she met them the second day we met" cheol answered scoffing at the thought
"now i know why girls are driven away from you" jun cringed at cheol
"she called them herself the day we met, she even said that our children will live here, and she tried to sleep with me the first day we met !" cheol finally shared his experience the past few days
"ooh feisty and a woman with a plan, that's so horanghae coded" hoshi smiled reaching his palms out and curling the ends of her fingers.
"you're going delusional again hamster" minghao smacked the back of hoshi's head causing the latter to relieve it by rubbing his head.
"maybe cheol could get laid now with her bold behavior, someone who can tame mr. pride-over-pants-down-choi-seungcheol over here" joshua said
"she's just a bet-"
the violent reactions that flashed through the faces of his group-mainly cheol when you came in the door in the middle of the game.
the guys quickly recovered teasing cheol for being so attached already calling her over for a boys night.
"hi guys!!" you said excitingly trying on your best cute expression you could muster up while hoshi replied to you with the horanghae pose as you quickly reciprocated it.
"i just thought i could put some of my stuff here so you could always remember me cheollie" your eyes twitching the moment your face was parallel with the wall
cheol was in awe with the first few vases you put out, until there were at lest 13 in his living room only. his house looking like he was out there selling urns
you were going around his place disrupting them, even changing their ambient music into some of britney spear's playlist
and even making very concerning screams around the kitchen just behind the living room.
"cheollie, can you get me some water" you whined when you heard them telling cheol it was his turn
he caught you reaching out unto the cupboards for a glass, he quickly got you what you requested and leaving you there
you were quick to grab onto his arm and grab the cigarette out of his mouth.
"you need to stop smoking" you tell him genuinely, his demeanor sensing your honesty his brows rested as he gave you a smile.
"i need to keep my lungs healthy for our children huh?" he teased you with a knowing smile
day 5 : ghosting
after his game with the boys, you two spent so much time together after.
he was being sulky after receiving his first losing game last night from all your disruptions last night.
but he never mentioned you being a nuisance, and just maybe because it was stored somewhere deep his chest the frustrations he held
but you stayed clingy to him filling him up with your presence even when you already went home flooding his texts until it was dawn
today you decided to stay low, you were lying in wait in this part of the plan
by doing so much the past few days today you decided to give ghosting a shot
"god i just wanna die if i need to go through this just to find a decent human being" you sighed frustrated at yourself
you wish you could stop now, there was 150 bucks on the line
or this is what you thought that hindered from you from stopping, you stared longingly on your laptop
quickly dialing his number you grinned at the sound of his voice
day 6 : a large iced diet coke and a kiss to go
today you planned on watching a knicks game with cheol, it was both your favorite thing to watch.
the stadium filled with cheers as you were shaking with thrill watching the tight game among your favorite team handling each other by the neck
most of the game went well according to cheol
during the break the venue managers continued to do the kiss cam.
you were interested looking at random people sharing affection through this stupid camera. but you didn't know it would face you.
you saw your face light up with surprise as the other guy next to you exposed on the kiss cam
you were looking at him
"i'm-" the guy was cut off when seungcheol grabbed you by the nape sealing your lips with his plush ones, the camera then panning to the both of you instead of you and the other guy.
"you weren't in the kiss cam" you said smiling- wait no don't.
"well i was just now" he said cockily
"i'm not gonna let you kiss him when i'm here" he said and that lit a fire within you
the final part of the game resumed as you both were cheering wildly through the crowds
it was time.
you asked cheol to bring you coke since you were extremely famished according to your words.
cheol quickly glanced at you, the bottom of the stadium, on the scoreboard, and back to your eyes.
he quickly ran getting you the drink that you wanted.
"i cant drink too much sugar though i need the diet one" his face turning into a distressed one jogging back up the long steep flights of stairs as he huffed to the vendor that you wanted the coke one, being only available to watch the game through the small monitor by the ceiling
there was about 3 minutes left, your team still having time to win over
he rushed back to you quickly handing you your coke, but there was another thing-
"i need ice cheollie" you whined at him, he groaned but still went over to do it
only a few moments left before the game ends the vendor still working on you precious drink, seungcheol staring at the monitor.
you felt bad, like actually. but you had to keep this up
you were enjoying the game until you were drowned in your thoughts on how you were ever gonna ask for his forgiveness after all this
you were a bitch and get over your act.
the crowd calling out through your ears realizing your favored team won, you had to force a smile especially a lovely one at cheol to make him think you were being a menace
maybe if you pushed him enough you could end this sooner, you can't admit that he was charming, handsome, and his behavior is no less than how a gentleman should act.
sorry coups.
the game ended, you were exiting the venue with cheol as his arm around your shoulder quickly calling you a cab home.
"thank you for this babe" you smiled passing him the cup, hoping you were rude enough for him to not call you up anymore
"no problem, you gave me your other ticket to watch with you anyway" he smiled pecking you before you left.
he crumpled the cup and threw it away.
day 7 : the revelation
you and cheol spent this day with a quick breakfast by the small cafe nearby, chatting through the busy streets of your city, he asked you to come to his event tomorrow which you accepted. after breakfast there were barely any interactions coming between the two of you.
why stay through this conditions?
well we bring you to the day 1
you were troubled writing your new article on the magazine company you were working for.
your boss expecting so much from you, you simply cannot write anything too political or anything controversial at all, so you stuck on to writing these stupid "how to" to articles which was a huge success for your company.
you were stuck, nothing to write, drafts filled with calling out peace for all countries experiencing genocide and territorial invasions or calling out to politicians who were legitimately caught only on scandalous events but never the seat of any meetings.
you were a writer a "how to girl", you swore you did it all and wrote them, how to talk your way out of a ticket, how to feng shui your apartment and even having those little tests you wrote printed by the magazine.
seungcheol was a lawyer, he stayed in his grandfathers law firm, his grandfather desperate for him to get wed and have a family who will take care of the firm and would take care of him as well.
seungcheol's grandfather knew his luck in love, so he prayed that even when he passes, his grandson will still have someone to be with.
day 8 : pride over love
cheol came over to your place at dusk seeing you with your flattering yellow dress with a backless cut on the back.
he was stunned by your beauty, his hand leading to his chest.
"my god" he whispered to himself as he paced closer to you
"you're gorgeous" he smiled as he kissed your temple
"you don't look to bad yourself" you grinned at him
you decided to stay in your apartment for a while as you settled a few of your stuff before you leave
he glanced over your record player and fidget over your albums then he finally sat down digesting the whole essence of your place, it was hard for him to stay still thinking that you were some dumb bet but he knew you were more than that, he knew you we're attractive but the breeze tonight was only revealing your true selves to each other.
you came in the room with your purse settling it by the coffee table as your favorite song came by, you couldn't help but singing along to it
and other girls dreamed that they'd be cheol's partner
they'd be cheol's partner and
you're so vain
you probably think this song is about you
and then you both exploded in to giggles proceeding to do silly dances before heading out.
you both arrive at an immaculately decorated building, you could already hear all the people chattering inside the building making a light buzz on your ears
"cheol, you should come meet our new stockholder" his coworker ushered him as he looked at you with slight worry
"i'll be fine you should go" you pushed him lightly and he just nodded at you making a phone call sign telling u to call him if anything happens
it was a while when you were just sitting by the bar drinking your nth drink for the night, it wasn't your intention to do so, but that was the only thing that can occupy you. you didn't want to bother cheol on his night so you stayed lowkey.
you weren't drunk but you rethink because you didn't know why seungcheol's grandfather ushering you to talk to him.
"so i heard that you have been seeing my grandson" he started
"oh yeah i am" you politely answered, guilt wrapping you up when you realized that you were only feigning everything.
"i'm glad that he told me about a girl he goes out with, he barely tells me anymore because they don't last long" he giggled
"oh really? i would expect him to be married by now actually" you joked with him
you felt comfortable around him, his friends, his relatives, and even his co workers, they really provided you with a nice environment.
"i'm happy that you stayed with him even after knowing that you just started as a bet-"
"excuse me?" you were violated.
"i mean please excuse me i need to get some fresh air"
there was regret in mr.choi's face but it also held worry, was it true? you were a bet? what did he win for you? for this? what did he mean that you started as a bet?
you were furious, you knew you were also doing him wrong, but you felt bad for all of it.
it wasn't helping that you had to admit to yourself that you did like him. even through the fucked up situations you had this week, it was all messed up, fake.
but even in all that chaos, he was consistent, he was there.
now you're doubting if that was his acting as well
because now you were burning everywhere, because you knew you crossed the fine line along the feigned adoration over real devotion.
you adore choi seungcheol.
but now that meant nothing.
quick and heavy foot steps were heard behind you
"y/n!" cheol managed out with huffed breaths
you faced him with disdain painting your face.
“wow, you’re gonna run away after you defy me?” he laughed sarcastically, his face sullen his eyes filled with fury
“defy you? what about you making me a bet?” it dawned on him realizing that you knew about his faults too.
it was true, you did defy him, not that it was your choice, you had to do it for your job, you wrote about him, one of your how-to blog and magazine experiments.
how to lose a guy in 10 days
this was your last project being a part of this magazine line. you swore you couldn’t keep on using people for an article, you planned on being a journalist after quitting, after making him your last.
because after all, you love him.
your article could also be called “how to stupidly fall in love and find a man in 10 days”
“it was a bet at first, then i fell, but you just played me” he looked at you as if you just stabbed him straight to the chest
“what?” you said confused
“leave. i don’t ever wanna see you anymore” he warned
“didn’t know you could stoop so low, and don’t worry i will”
“how to lose a guy in 10 days huh?” he started “lucky you y/n because you just lost him” he uttered walking away.
the night turned completely upside down, both of your chests swelled with guilt, shame and anger.
your heart dropped, but you just swallowed you pride and left.
day 9 : drive me out of town
quickly packing your things to leave, you won’t do any good here now that everything is tainted by the man you met just a little more than a week ago.
you spent your whole day just wallowing the sadness from your love life leaving your friends, your apartment.
you published that article about choi seungcheol to have income before you left your low life and start as a struggling journalist to do what you always wanted, to write about more important things
conventional, innovative, a cry of the oppressed.
but people seemed to worry if blondes were more fun than brunettes.
you truly regret using him, but you both did the wrong things to the write people, only fate knew that.
you rode your cab ready to leave this damned city to move to another identical one.
the familiar streets slowly blurred into the abyss of the distance as you called your friends and relatives one by one just catching up and telling them little life updates.
you were sad, but you knew that seungcheol is probably feeling a lot more than you were.
the darkness of the sky basked you a sense of comfort, there’s always a new day.
you wished him peace.
it was a fault writing about him and confessing about you felt at the same time, but he deserved the last bit if honesty left to your fake situationship.
a raging motorcycle suddenly honks at your vehicle endlessly. your cab giving way but it seemed like it wasn’t what the motor rider meant
“OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP” you told the cab driver when you realized it was cheol’s bike.
was he planning to run you over?
you got out displaying yourself in front of the man you loved.
“y/n, it was all true” he said taking his helmet off he huffed tiredly but not slowing down his pace to get close to you
“what are you saying?”
“i liked you that’s why i agreed with the bet, hoping you would like me back, even though your personality was hard to work with” he laughed to himself
“why are you saying this? why now?”
“maybe i flipped the page too quick not seeing that you loved me as well”
“love”
“what?”
“i still love you” you whispered
“you won your bet a little too well mr.choi seungcheol”
“i love you too, and i don’t care if you pull your annoying your girl antics i still love you”
“that wasn’t me” you laughed
“well there was a part of you who did it, and i love all of you” he smiled showing his gummy grin.
you couldn’t help but feel free, you weren’t stuck in that annoying girl’s body forcing the guy you love to hate you.
“kiss me, cheol” you teared up
he didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing to yours savoring every inch of it. your head shifting in sync as you both connected not wanting to let go.
today’s day 1. the first day of making it real.
day 10 : my heart, it lies within yours.
passed 12 am
i guess you did actually lose your bet now with your friends. at day 10 choi seungcheol was plush against your skin his lips in yours, and your hands in his hair.
“i hate that you have me wrapped around your finger” he groaned onto your lips
“i hate that you actually won your stupid bet” you sighed
“i always win, and this feels so much better than winning” he said lifting you
your bags left on the floor the moment you reached his home, he told you to call it yours as well, from now on.
your silence didn’t last long when the both of you were longing for each other leading you up to this moment.
“hm so cocky huh?” you teased him as you started kissing down on his neck as he laid you on his bed.
you pulled down on his tie realizing he was so busy at work all day.
you kissed him once more and switching the positions that you were previously on as you climbed onto his lap and continued making out
your hands wandering on his hair and his hands on your ass.
your tongue interacting as he let you do whatever you want, his hands started wandering on your body leaving your skin burning for more.
your kiss being more needy as you started to grind on his hard on. he groaned onto your lips leaving you to grind harder.
you started to unbutton his clothes as he followed suit, removing yours as well.
he was pulling on his tie
“no” you stopped him
“keep it on love” you commanded
he could throw you and turn this around, but he didn’t. he enjoyed this a little too much, loving the feeling of being taken care of.
you both were left on your under garments except him having his tie on
he looked so hot having his tie rest on his smooth and hard muscles, his abs and pecs shining from the moonlight.
you continued grinding on him until he held your hips to stop.
“let me have you first please” he sighed as he laid you down on the bed as he knelt on the ground facing your crotch.
he looked at you as if he was asking if he could remove it and you nodded back at him.
his blonde hair a bit messy as you caressed it and tugging while he was removing your underwear
his face getting closer to your heat as he started kissing on your thighs slowly.
his lips then met with your clit as he sucked slowly then proceeding to lap on your entrance already making it soaking than it already was.
his tongue bending slightly when met with the entrance teasing it and slowly stretching it.
his right hand caressing around your waist as the left one kept it on your thigh refraining it from moving.
his fingers slowly worked his mouth as he slowly dipped one into your hole.
his finger was thick, 2 of your fingers were your frequently used ones, but his reached so much deeper, felt so fuller.
he hummed against your clit as vibrations flooded through your veins. he added another finger making you writhe and pull on his hair more.
you pulled him up kissing his plump lips before making him lay down on the bed.
you held his hands as you put it above his head, you weren’t intending to restrain them at all.
his biceps protruding so well when you raised it keeping it there as you licked and sucked on his neck slowly removing his boxers.
you wanted to cum with him tonight.
his eyes went dark seeing his large dick lining up to your entrance, he wanted you to ride him, he wanted to stare at your beautiful body while you felt pleasure because of him.
"no condom?" he asked heavily, he wanted it, he wanted this, but he also wants to make sure that you're doing what you desire, not wanting to make regrets again.
"i don't care, fill me up, make me pregnant" you said in a daze, but even without the lust you had right now, you still would say yes.
"fuck" he groaned hearing your words
his length standing tall, he was already so girthy, his tip leaking red.
he wanted to feel pleasure with you, not just sitting there like some fuck doll.
you lined the tip with your entrance as you slowly sunk down already feeling an enormous stretch.
"god your cock is so big" you moaned as you rested your head by his neck sucking there to distract yourself from the slight pain.
his hands went down to your waist as he pushed you further, taking him all in.
he was sent to paradise with your walls crashing to his length, engulfing it in its warmth
"your pussy was made just for me, love" he groaned as his hands guided your waist to ride him.
you were releasing moans as you rode him, it's as if he was still getting bigger inside you.
you then leaned back to your position staring at him with his tie, he looked so hot with his abs clenching every time you squeeze his dick, and how his sweat made it look like he was glowing.
he was laying back with the most drunk in lust face he got as he bit his lower lip just staring at you bouncing at him.
every curve of him filled you even more hitting the right spots that led you to your high in a few more moments.
you both released at the same time, but cheol was far from over with you
he flipped you around entering you in a missionary position, he was truly strong as he pumped himself in you with a new found energy hitting even deeper than before.
he caressed the bump his dick made deep on your stomach.
he made a guttural moan just by the thought of you being able to carry his children by the very belly he's fucking oblivion to.
you pulled onto his tie causing it to tighten a bit that he moaned. you kissed him sloppily as your saliva mixed and dripped to the side of your chin.
he went down leaving marks on your delicate skin, already having red marks on your neck, he made sure to give your tits some love.
he sucked onto your left one and massaged the one on your right, continuously flicking it. his other hand made its way to massage your clit, which made your back arch and scream his name.
"fuck seungcheol" you moaned
"seungcheol? i thought you called me cheollie" he smiled at you with a shit eating grin
you could barely even give a response, you were simply brain dead from all the pleasure you had.
his pace going faster and faster as massaged your clit to a higher intensity, you both were sent over the edge for the second time tonight.
he slowly removed his length, as your hole felt the emptiness you groaned. your mixed arousal slipping out of your pussy as cheol just stared at it.
he inserted two fingers fucking the cum back into her, you moaned at overstimulation, he continued fucking you with his fingers.
"aren't you doing too much mr. choi?" you glared at seungcheol.
"gonna make sure you keep all of it" he said as she shakes his head giggling.
you pulled him down onto the bed as you sat up stuffing your underwear in his mouth making him moan out loud.
"your turn?" you grinned.
i felt like i could do better :") im sorry if this is bad.
taglist <3
@luchiet @sebongmochi @yawnseu @christinewithluv @musingsofananxiouspotato @raggedypansexual @90s-belladonna @nerdycheol @xcynthiaaa @inexistent-bluemind @jenoxygen @i-dont-give-a-fok @nmosyne @sleepzyy @justanarchiveforfics @springdaybreaks @k07-1313 @dunixxd
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A small teen wolf thought I had
I’m really missing season 1 Stiles, so let’s imagine him having a crush on reader😍
We all know how Stiles had an enormous crush on Lydia, it was absolutely devastating tbh. Like this dude was lowkey devoted to her💀💀
So what if a new student (reader) moved into town and it’s love at first sight for him. He’d bump into you after rambling to Scott about whatever was on his mind and knocks your binder and books to the ground.
Helping you pick up your stuff, right when he’s giving you your notebook, he’d look up and just. Stare. Cuz ZOOWEEMAMA YOURE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN HIS EYES
You’re busy thanking him and apologizing for the collision, waiting for him to let go of the notebook, voice slowly fading out when you notice him just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.
“Thanks for helping me. Can I have my book?”
“Uh huh.”
“…”
“…”
“Stiles, you know you have to let go of the notebook.” Scott is trying his best not to slam his head in a locker when his friend still doesn’t let go LMAO
Your chuckle snaps him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to blush and apologize awkwardly. You’d smile at him and in good nature, joke about it and walk away, leaving him in awe.
Most people would normally give him the stink eye, but seeing how you joked about it made his heart flutter a bit.
Everything is HISTORY after that. If you have any classes with Stiles, you already KNOW he’s gonna try and sit as close to you as possible. Teacher assigns partner or group projects? He’s springing out of his seat and going to you first. You both have the same lunch period? He’s inviting you to sit with him and his friends. You’re having trouble with a certain class? Man, he’s already offering to help you after school, you’ll nail that test with flying colors!
You just get him! You like his sarcasm and MIRACULOUSLY understand his random references from movies and video games! With all the time you guys spend together, his crush on you grows more and more.
You appreciate how Stiles is so interested in the things you like and dislike. You love how he asks why you enjoy a certain movie despite the terrible reviews it got. Why you dislike an artist he just began listening to. You both love the same things, but have different opinions on everything, every conversation flows so naturally with him that you can’t help but develop a crush on him too.
You’ve never met anyone as eccentric and energetic as him, he never fails to bring a smile to your face teehee
Stiles is the type to remember every little, seemingly insignificant, thing about his crush. When your birthday rolls around, this dude has so many gifts ready😭 a warm feeling fills you when you open one gift to see it’s an item you’ve mentioned in a passing convo yall had MONTHS ago
He’s so sweet and kind with you too like don’t get me started. Stiles just enjoys being around you and seeing you happy makes him happy. SEASON 1 STILES IS THE DEFINITION OF PUPPY LOVE LIKE UGGHH
Takes you out on late night drives, barges into your room through the window with any takeout food you’ve been craving. Hed even take you out on a mini ‘date’ to the local arcade!!! his dad sees how much you mean to his son and is super happy that Stiles is happy. Loves when you come over to study with him, he’s always telling you stories about when stiles was younger (he would definitely cover your ears with his hands and speak loudly over his dad LMAO)
I’m telling y’all, stiles having a crush on you is the cutest thing ever, especially if you reciprocate his feelings!!!When you guys get together, cuz it’s not a matter of if with his friends, you’re the ultimate duo.
He’d confess his feelings for you in the most cheesiest way ever, probably during or after a school dance cuz why not.
UGH I NEED TO WRITE MORE STILES STUFF I LIVE HIM SM‼️ HE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER SEASON 3😭😭😭
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My Everyday
Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate.
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining
a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)
Masterlist
~~
“What’s this punks name again?”
The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.”
“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?”
“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.”
“Semantics.”
“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes.
There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice.
He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one.
Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus.
But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team.
You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you.
But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours.
There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck.
It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting.
“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?”
“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?”
“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.”
You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.
~~
“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.
The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.”
“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?”
“Fuck you, man.”
A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something.
And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.
Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.
“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room.
You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?”
The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow.
“Y/n.”
It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.”
He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?”
“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—”
“We’re going home.”
“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.”
He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.”
That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice.
This was different.
“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room.
He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped.
You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.
“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.”
“It was a big deal.”
~~
The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours.
There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.
Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”
“Ice skating.”
The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?”
“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.”
“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—”
“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt.
“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.”
You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink.
A good reason.
You didn’t date athletes.
It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else.
And you didn’t date athletes.
You did not.
You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met.
The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged.
So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating.
“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience.
You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.”
He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room.
“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room.
“Tonight,” you answered plainly.
The arms atop your legs tensed.
~~
The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him.
On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.
The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.
You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.
“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.”
You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.”
“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.”
“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea.
Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week.
Definitely not.
“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat.
You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you.
On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.
“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering.
“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.”
And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.
“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone.
“What?” you yelled.
He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again.
This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.
“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.”
You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.”
“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you.
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out.
You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up.
Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.”
“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.
“Do I know you?” you slurred.
You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?”
“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.”
“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.”
Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?”
Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again.
“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.
Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.
“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled.
The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.”
There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left.
Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal.
“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked.
A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.”
“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.”
“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?”
You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream.
Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack.
He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.”
“Who?” Your head swayed with the question.
Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went.
“What the fuck?” you blurted out.
“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?”
“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied.
“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.”
Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.”
He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men.
After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently.
“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door.
You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.”
The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I���ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.”
“I can take you just fine.”
“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?”
Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”
His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent.
“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created.
“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation.
“Yeah, but—”
“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.”
You blinked, and then slid into the front seat.
The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.
“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.”
Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.”
He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look.
“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.”
~~
Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news.
After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade.
“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively.
Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.”
“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.
You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink.
“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow.
“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.”
“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.”
“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?”
“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room.
Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift.
You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed.
“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.”
You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes.
And nothing at the same time.
“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.
“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.”
“You’re being presumptuous.”
He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply.
“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection.
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen.
But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.”
“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.
He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”
“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you.
And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.
His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.”
He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.”
There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you.
“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.”
The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter.
He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you.
The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.
The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter.
He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.”
“You can do it again.”
“Oh, I will, baby.”
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together.
“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.”
He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?”
“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.”
Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets.
“And is that true?”
“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”
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