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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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wait for you ☆ cl16

genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah

req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss

“Come on! Don’t be like that.”

It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.

It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.

Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos.

We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.

But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.

With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.

“I do love having you to myself…”

“So it’s settled. Not yet.”

The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…

“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”

Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”

“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.

“You guys…”

Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”

“Or she’s not that into you.”

The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”

Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”

As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”

You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it.

That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.

“You sound so sweet…”

You grip his shoulders tighter.

“Doing so good for me, yeah?”

You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.

“Do you love me?”

More than anything.

“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”

“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”

You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.

With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”

“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”

“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”

All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”

The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”

You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”

“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”

A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.

“Why did you stop?”

“Why do you look scared?”

Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”

“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”

“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”

“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”

The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time.

Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”

The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”

Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”

“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.

He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”

“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”

“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”

“How about we don’t?”

You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”

“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”

Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination.

“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”

The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…

Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”

He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”

taglist: @myownwritings

*anyone is welcome to lmk and i'll add you along :)

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ellecdc · 1 month

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can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up

so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~

poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader

“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”

Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.

“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.

“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.

Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.

There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.

He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you.

He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar.

“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face.

“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.

“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.

Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”

Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.

“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.

“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.

“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.

“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum.

“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs.

“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.

“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you.

Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.

“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.

You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.

“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.

“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”

Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”

You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.

“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”

Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”

If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.

“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated.

“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.

“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds.

Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his.

“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.

Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.

James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.

“We’re so lucky.” James commented.

Remus couldn’t help but agree.

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hairmetal666 · 4 months

Text

Steve has a problem. Not a big problem--not an Upside Down-sized problem--but still. A problem. In the form of Eddie Munson. And not the person Eddie Munson, who is second only to Robin in the hierarchy of Steve's heart, but his feelings in regard to one Eddie Munson. Namely, his enormous, devastating, gay crush on the guy.

And he knows, okay, he knows Eddie is gay, but that doesn't mean he wants Steve. Eddie is probably into other metalheads or dnd nerds. What could Steve, with his sports and his polo shirts, possibly have to offer?

He's coping, though. Or, at least, he thought he was until the Family Video phone rings and Jonathan invites them to the New Year's Eve party he and Argyle are throwing at their new apartment.

"We have to make a no-date pact." He tells Robin as soon as the phone is back in the cradle.

"Or you could just ask Eddie."

"You could just ask Nancy." He raises an eyebrow.

She lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, okay. No-date pact. I'm down."

It's just as easy to get Nancy and Eddie on board. Nancy just laughs and says "yeah, like I'd bring a date to the party my ex-boyfriend is hosting with his new boyfriend. How you do you even start to explain that dynamic?"

And Eddie snorts right in Steve's face (it's not cute, it's not), says, "Right, cause my dating pool in Hawkins, Indiana is just ripe with guys who want to ring in the New Year with me."

Steve wants to say that he would be that guy, happily, giddily, but he can't risk blowing up his second most important friendship like that, not when Eddie's never given a fraction of a hint that he wants Steve too.

But that's his problem solved, right? The four of them aren't bringing dates. Easy-peasy.

Unfortunately, Steve's life hasn't ever worked out like that, and the party turns out to not be only their little end of the world crew and a handful of people Jon knows from his grocery store job, but an actual motherfucking party.

It takes almost ten minutes for him and Robin to navigate through the sea of strangers to find Jon and Argyle handing out solo cups in the kitchen.

"Who are all these people?" He shouts over the pounding music, nothing like Steve's ever heard.

"Argyle got a job at the record store down the street," Jon yells.

"Co-workers." Argyle nods. "And a few of their friends."

"A few, right."

"The more the merrier. Right, my dude?"

"Sure." Steve takes a cup. "You seen Eddie around?"

"Living room, last time I looked." Jonathan answers.

"See you around?" Robin asks.

"At least meet up for the ball drop," Argyle answers.

They push their way into the cramped living room, and Steve searches for that familiar cloud of hair, the ripped black jeans. It takes a minute just for the sheer amount of bodies pressed into the small space, and when he sees him Eddie's--

He's standing against a wall, next to the stereo (of course), but there's someone with him. Someone who is tall and leanly muscled in a way that Steve isn't. Someone with long hair pushed back from his forehead. Someone with facial piercings in places Steve didn't even know you could pierce and tattoos and a chain hanging from his worn blue jeans and a bandana in his back pocket, just like Eddie.

And Eddie he's--he's gazing up at this dude with clear stars in his brown doe eyes, body angling towards the other man like he can't help but push more into his orbit.

Steve turns hard, Robin colliding with his side. "Steve, what the--oh."

"I hate New Year's Eve," Steve sighs, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It's always been the kind of holiday that is high on expectation and low on follow-through.

"C'mon, I think I spotted Nance over by the bedroom."

He lets Robin guide him across the room, steadfastly not looking back at where Eddie is very obviously finding himself a date. It's okay, Steve reasons. It's okay because that was obviously the kind of guy Eddie would be into it. He knew he had, like, no chance. He shouldn't be disappointed. He shouldn't.

The evening slips away in the shove of people, in the solo cup that manages to always be full in his hand, and he tries as hard as he can to ignore the way Robin and Nancy start sharing the same space.

So much for the no-date pact. He would laugh if a sort of deep loneliness wasn't seeping into his bones.

There's a girl, though, across the room. She's in a short dress and glances at Steve from under hooded eyelids. He could make a move; could have someone to kiss at midnight; have someone just for the night. But then--his heart makes a pathetic patter--Eddie.

Eddie who is practically in that stranger's lap.

He goes out for a cigarette.

When he comes back inside, it's five minutes til midnight and Nancy and Robin are dancing slow and sweet to a song that is neither.

He's happy for them, almost incandescent with it, but the loneliness sinks deeper, reaches marrow, especially after he fails to find Eddie in the crowd.

Steve thinks it might be time to give the whole failed endeavor up for good, but Jonathan and Argyle, both in tiny 1987 novelty top hats, appear at his side.

"Stevie-boy!" Argyle bellows. He lifts Steve at the waist, twirling him, and Steve laughs despite himself.

"Keeping busy?" He asks.

Jonathan pounds him on the back, just a little too hard.

A guest yells from deep in the apartment, "one minute to midnight!" and the music turns off, the TV tuned to Dick Clark and turned up.

Nancy and Robin find their way over, Robin mouthing "sorry," on her way. He pulls her into a side-hug; he'll never begrudge her any happiness, even on his worst day.

From across the room, there's a crash, a short yelp, and then a familiar head of fuzzy brown curls makes its way to them.

"Sorry, sorry." Eddie apologizes as he shoves through the other guests.

"Hi, guys!" He beams at them, cheeks flushed. Steve looks away so he doesn't have to think about how beautiful Eddie is; about how he's not the one who made him blush so pretty.

The countdown on the screen reaches 30 seconds, and the party goers start chanting.

"What happened to--?" Steve can't help but asking.

"Psh, that dude? He's a punk. Plus, I couldn't imagine ringing in 1987 without you guys by my side."

Steve blushes and rolls his eyes. "Sap." He knocks his hip into Eddie's.

"You love it," Eddie wraps him in a loose hold.

The count is down to 10, the ball almost dropped, Jonathan and Argyle and Nancy and Robin making soft eyes at each other.

"What's going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?" Eddie knocks his head gently against Steve's.

"It's nothing."

"You're pouting." Eddie mimics him with a poked out lip.

The count is down to 5.

"Fuck, I just--I wanted to have someone to kiss at midnight, you know?"

The ball drops, the year changes over, the room cheers. His coupled up friends cling to each other in soft, joyous kisses.

Eddie's eyes flick to their friends, to the guests, all kissing and embracing and celebrating, then back to Steve.

With two careful fingers, Eddie lifts Steve's chin, makes it so he can't look away.

"Fuck it," Eddie says. He leans forward, kisses Steve with soft authority.

And Steve just--he just fucking--crumbles into it. He makes a soft noise, curls his fists into Eddie's t-shirt.

Eddie's hands work their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Steve goes eagerly, crushes their bodies together.

They kiss and they kiss, and it's already so far from a friendly New Year's kiss, but then Eddie's tongue swipes into Steve's mouth, and the kiss breaks.

"Um," Eddie says.

Steve can't respond because all his focus is on not giving into the weakness in his knees and collapsing to the floor.

"I've wanted you to do that all night," Steve says.

"Oh." Eddie's face blossoms into a slow smile. "Me too. A lot longer than that, actually."

It's Steve's turn to smile, and he does, so hard it hurts his cheeks. "Me too."

Eddie presses their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Stevie."

Someone starts singing Auld Lang Syne loudly and off-key, but they're quickly drowned out by a chorus of accompanying voices.

"Happy New Year, Ed."

Steve pulls him in for another kiss. 1987 is already shaping up to be the best year of his life.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #new years eve #spicy six #ficlet #angst #fluff #mutual pining #angst with a happy ending #first kiss #nye party #ronance #jargyle #this is very loosely based on the nye episode of friends where joey kisses chandler #hold on to the memories they will hold on to you

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joelscurls · 6 months

Text

give in to temptation

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

words: 5.5k

summary: you're in a relationship now — a good, healthy relationship — that doesn't stop you from texting your ex Javi late at night.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, post Narcos s3, porn with plot, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, sexting, infidelity (I do not condone cheating, but unfortunately it's hot when it's with Javi), reference to masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names (cariño, querida, baby, etc.); lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: hi! enjoy 5kish words of dubious morals bc I couldn't get this idea out of my head :)

Humidity clings to the walls, bedsheets strewn across your legs damp with sweat. You kick at them aimlessly, and the cotton grips tighter to slick skin.

In the curve of your palm rests your phone, ringer switched off and brightness turned all the way down — the last thing you want is to wake your boyfriend, dozing next to you as you text another man.

Your fingers are clammy where they wrap around metal, sweat pooling in the divots between your knuckles.

This is wrong; you know it’s wrong, just like every time preceding this one. But the guilt does nothing to slow the adrenaline racing through your veins. If anything, it makes your heart thump harder.

That, and the words pixelated on the tiny screen of your flip-phone.

Javi [2:03am]: I’ve been thinking about you all day, cariño. Got me so hard.

You’d met Javier Peña just over a year ago.

A young woman alone at the bar, you’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had dark brooding eyes and a savior complex that’d been made more apparent with each story he’d shared about his time as a DEA attaché in Colombia, from which he’d recently returned.

Do you miss it? you’d asked, nursing a martini.

Like hell, he’d said. But I have nothing left to give.

I don’t know if I believe you, you’d countered with a wink.

Not an hour later, you’d found yourself in his living room, dress hiked up to your waist as he devoured you.

Sex with Javi was easy, mindless. For a while, his body served as a refuge for you after shitty days at work and arguments with your overbearing mother. A lone beacon in the fog, he was always more than willing to help you forget the stressors in your life. And your own name.

It was passionate, and filthy, and sticky — left your legs trembling and your head dizzy — each and every time.

With him, you didn’t have to talk. Didn’t have to think. It was just sex, with no strings and no labels. Your relationship, if you could call it that, was perpetuated by the transcendent pleasure you felt in the spaces between words, when your mouths were preoccupied.

But when your birthday came and went and you found yourself another year older, an aching feeling settled in your gut — a feeling that time had begun to pass more quickly than it used to. And on its heels came the desire for something more, something you knew Javi was not willing to provide: a relationship.

The decision to end things was mutual, amicable. It was the easiest “breakup” you’d ever gone through. Maybe because it wasn’t a “breakup” at all.

A few weeks later, you’d met Nathan, a law student with a polite disposition and an eagerness to settle down. He’d treated you well, the type to open doors for you and ask about your day. On all fronts, he was a good man — a little boring, but good.

After a month, you made it official. After two, he moved into your place.

And you stopped thinking about Javi, about the way his large hand had fit perfectly around your throat, the way he’d been able to coax you to orgasm in two different languages. No, you only thought about the man in front of you, the one with the steadily growing collection of argyle ties and the unstamped passport.

Sex with Nathan was admittedly different. He didn’t make you cum as quickly or as easily; your body didn’t crave his with the same amount of fervor it had Javier’s. But it was loving, sweet, what any woman would want…should want.

And it was normal that you thought about your ex sometimes when your current partner laid his weight on top of you, that you imagined a different mouth slotted against your neck or on your tits. Because certainly, everyone did that every once in a while. It was harmless.

As long as you never uttered his name out loud, he’d remain only in your head, lost to time to exist there forevermore.

But then came the day in the grocery store, on your date to the cereal aisle to restock Nathan’s favorite, bran flakes. He’d materialized like a ghost of good sex’s past.

You didn’t dare speak to him, didn’t trust yourself to. Under the bright fluorescent lights, you’d felt your palms begin to sweat, your throat constrict, eyes glued to the selection of boxes in front of you. But while Nathan debated between store brand and name brand, you’d snuck another cautious glance at him.

Javi’s expression was unreadable. He’d looked between you and Nathan as if he were trying to solve a rubix cube. One he was becoming increasingly frustrated by. He’d gripped the handle of his shopping cart so tightly, the skin on his knuckles appeared near translucent.

And then he’d disappeared, tiny wheels on the carriage screeching, noise barely audible over your pulse.

The first text came later that night.

Are you seeing someone? it’d read.

Yes, you’d replied. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk.

You’d quickly established ground rules: messages would only be exchanged after midnight, never two nights in a row, no calls, and — most importantly — Nathan would never find out.

Okay, Javi had said. Just one more rule: don’t use his name with me.

To your right, Nathan snores, the singular catch of an inhale in his throat, and the noise jolts you, face heating as if you’ve been caught.

Then he shifts, turns on his side, away from you. You feel a strange wash of relief. A semblance of privacy that you shouldn’t be after.

You respond to Javier with your tongue between your teeth.

You [2:04am]: thinking about me doing what?

Javi [2:06am]: Riding me. Your tits in my face. My hands on your ass.

Your breath catches, attention abruptly pulled to the incessant throbbing between your legs.

You definitely shouldn’t sneak to the bathroom and touch yourself. Shouldn’t send Javi a grainy photo of your fingers in your panties. Shouldn’t make yourself cum with your ex-lover’s name on your lips.

Not for the third time this week.

But when your cunt inadvertently clenches around nothing, your judgment is suddenly clouded.

With one last glance at the sleeping form beside you, you clamber to your feet and tiptoe down the hallway, wetness dripping down your thighs as you go.

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click. You fumble for the lightswitch, eyes reflexively squeezing shut when the room brightens.

You hover over the sink, steadying yourself against porcelain with one hand while you type furiously with the other.

You [2:10am]: yeah? you wanna suck on my tits?

The mirror parallel you reflects something out of a thriller, your pupils fully dilated and your forehead glistening with sweat. You almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at you in all her depravity.

You slump to the floor. Rest with your back to the side of the tub.

Javi [2:11am]: Dying to. Always felt so fucking perfect in my mouth.

Desperate fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, into your panties. The phone balances precariously in your other hand, thumb stumbling over buttons on the keypad.

You [2:12am]: I miss your cock.

Javi [2:13am]: That’s right, querida. Best you ever had, huh?

You [2:13am]: Yes. Always made me feel so fucking good.

Javi [2:15am]: Fuck. Are you touching yourself?

You swirl two digits at your entrance, amply coating them in your slick before dragging them up to your swollen clit. You can’t stifle the moan that slips past your lips.

You [2:16am]: yes

Javi [2:16am]: good girl

The phone distractedly tumbles from your grasp, clinking against tile as you begin to work yourself toward the brink.

And then — there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

The room spins, walls suddenly shrinking in on you as you wrench your hand out of your panties. Nathan’s voice on the other side is muffled, by the exhaust fan and by the ringing in your ears. But you can just decipher his words, his voice laden with sleep.

“Babe? Are you okay? I thought I heard-“

“Fine, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you say, scrambling to your feet, wiping wet fingers on your shorts.

The doorknob jostles, and it dawns on you then that you’d forgotten to fucking lock it.

“No! Don’t come in,” you sputter. The door hitches, less than an inch cracked. “I just had a stomach ache, but I’m okay now. I’ll be back in bed in a minute.”

“Oh.” He yawns. Pulls it shut again. “Okay.”

You brace yourself against the sink, struggling to slow your racing heart.

With a flush of the empty toilet, Nathan’s footsteps recede down the hall and out of earshot. You wash your hands, then, fingers shaking under the stream of lukewarm water.

You dry them hastily, not bothering to pick up the towel when it slides off the rail and onto the floor.

You [2:21am]: gotta go. sorry.

Javi [2:22am]: ???

Nathan is far too kind the following morning. He sets a plate of buttered toast and a mug of peppermint tea out for you on the kitchen table, and presses a nauseatingly gentle kiss to your forehead as you eat.

His amber eyes scan you like he’s searching for any indicators that you’re still hurting, fingers anxiously carding through his sandy hair.

You’re sure he’s clocked the dark circles marking your undereyes — not that he knows the real reason for them.

“I’m fine,” you promise when you feel him staring.

“Are you sure?” he probes. “The noise you made was…intense; you sounded really pained.”

Pained? Not exactly.

“I know.” You stuff the last bite of toast into your mouth. Tilt the empty plate toward him.

“But I’m okay; see? Even have an appetite this morning. It was just a weird bug or something.”

The lie burns on the way out, scalds your throat. But Nathan buys it. Doesn’t ask any further questions.

Still, he tells you to take it easy today on his way out the door.

You can’t look him in the eye when you insist that you will.

You call out of work, too sick with self-loathing to show your face in the office. Instead, you mope around all day, attempt to distract yourself with the overflowing hamper of laundry in the closet.

It’s futile though, your brain paralyzed by thoughts of Nathan finding out about the affair, and the clothes remain unwashed.

He returns that evening with a plastic bag in his clutch, the local pharmacy’s logo printed on the front.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a brand new heating pad. “I realized last night that we didn’t have one of these laying around.”

You know, at that moment, that you need to end things with Javi.

Nathan is good to you. He loves you with actions, not just words. Thinks of you before he thinks of himself, in every situation. And you — you’re cheating on him. Taking advantage of him. Not even trying to be what he deserves.

You’ll try harder. To love him, to think of him. No longer will you give in to brainless, animalistic needs. Surely, you can mimic the passion you have with someone else if you just try.

Try, try, try. You can do it.

Sleep evades you that night, coming in brief stints and leaving you breathless when you wake.

In those conscious moments, the analog clock in the corner of the room taunts you, glaring red neon making your head pound.

After three straight hours of tossing and turning, you decide it can’t wait any longer.

You fish your cellphone off the nightstand. Snap it open.

You [3:23am]: We need to end this before things get ugly.

You’re sure he won’t be awake this late; not without reason. But then — the screen blinks.

Javi [3:24am]: Nothing’s going to get ugly. Please, cariño.

You [3:24am]: I almost got caught last night. I don’t want to hurt him.

Javi [3:25am]: Can we talk about this? Javi [3:25am]: In person?

Your heart palpitates. For a moment, you swear it stops altogether.

You [3:26am]: What the hell? No Javi, I can’t.

Javi [3:27am]: C’mon. Just talk. Don’t you think you owe me that?

Your eyes flit to Nathan.

You watch him for a long moment: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slouch of his shoulders, the gape of his mouth.

He’s well and truly asleep. You’re sure you could sneak away without him waking. Slip out the door and get a cab to Javier’s, talk things through, and be back in bed before the sun rises — before Nathan even knows you’ve left.

And then everything will be just as it was before you messed this up. You can leave Javi in the past, where he belongs.

Of course, you’re not just going to talk. Deep in your bones, you know that. Know that when he’s there in front of you, you’ll be too weak to resist any of his advances.

Still, you play coy. Ignore the spring of excitement tightening in your abdomen.

In a move of finality, one which you know you won’t be able to come back from, you stand. Make your way into your closet to pull some pants and a t-shirt on, your cell phone clutched in your hand.

You [3:30am]: Fine.

Javier sends you his address — as if you’d have forgotten it. As if the name of his apartment complex isn’t permanently etched behind your eyelids, along with the wide slope of his shoulders and the plush of his bottom lip.

When the cab pulls up to the curb, the driver is visibly concerned. His bushy, gray brows thread together and his narrowed eyes catch yours in the rearview more than once on the drive across town.

It’s only when you reach Javi’s building and hand over your fare that the man speaks.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Quite late for you to be out on your own.”

His voice crackles, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy on his breath, and it’s strangely comforting.

“Yeah,” you promise as you push the door open and step out.

He rolls his window down, anxiously watching as you maneuver your way to the front door. And then he’s driving off, headlights vanishing into the thick night.

Javier lets you up on the first buzz. He’s waiting for you in the entryway of his apartment, leaning with a large hand pressed to the doorframe.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him: shirtless, bronze skin cast in the dim yellow light of the corridor.

His eyes rake over you the moment you’re in front of him, lingering when they catch on your collarbone, your breasts, your legs. He looks so imposing like this. You find yourself unable to move; frozen under his silent, lustful gaze.

“Are you — can I come in?” you ask meekly.

He nods then, a slow lift of his chin. Steps backward into darkness. You will yourself to take one step, and then another, following him over the threshold and past the point of no return.

It feels so odd to be here, in his space, with the intention of doing anything other than fucking. If you look close enough, you swear you can make out the shape of your body imprinted in the couch cushions, can hear lingering echoes of climaxes reached with your face shoved into one of his decorative pillows — can feel them, too.

Arousal pulls between your thighs. You ignore it.

You wonder how many other women have been here since you, have taken Javi in their hands or their mouths or their cunts. How many names that aren’t yours has he chanted in the throes of passion?

And — moreover — why do you care?

You don’t. You definitely don’t.

Javi pours you a glass of wine, fills a crystal with whiskey for himself. He flicks a lamp on, casting the room in an orange glow, and settles into the couch You follow his lead, perching yourself on one of the arm rests apprehensively.

“So,” you start. “About what we’ve been…doing-“

He cuts you off with a quirk of his brow, a flinch of his jaw.

“Javi,” you try again. “This has to — we can’t-”

“You’re sure you want to break it off, cariño?” His voice comes out low, dark.

And the thing is — you’re not sure. You wish you were, wish you had the strength to tell him definitively that it’s over, to go home to your boyfriend and block Javi’s number on the way out.

But the flex of his bicep when he hooks his arm behind his head, the knowing smirk playing on his lips, his cock — which you can’t see, but know is long and thick under his jeans — it all makes your head feel heavy.

You let the weight of it drop between your shoulders, hang there as you silently search for just a particle of sanity left in your being. You come up empty.

“Fuck,” you hiss, claw your fingers into your scalp. “This is — fuck.”

Leather groans under Javi’s weight. He stands. Steps in front of you.

You don’t dare look at him, not until he pinches your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to meet his. His eyes are charcoal-black, something devious swimming behind blown pupils.

“Baby,” he croons. “Why did you really come here?”

You play dumb. “What do you mean? To — to talk.”

His thumb skates along the underside of your jaw, soft and placating.

“We’re not really gonna talk — are we?”

Your head spins, mind clouded by Javier’s words, his touch. You sense yourself losing resolve just as he pulls you upright by both hands.

You’re so close like this; can taste the whiskey on his breath, can feel the warmth of his exhale against your skin.

His mouth moves to the shell of your ear, voice a mere whisper when he speaks again.

“Wanna know what I think, querida?” he asks, palm flattening at your lower back, pushing you flush against him. “I think you came here because texting wasn’t enough anymore, huh? Think you missed me.”

And the truth is, you have missed him — painfully so. You’ve missed the timbre of his voice, the caress of his hands, the stretch of his cock. All just in reach, tangible for the first time in so long.

Your need for him borders on carnal. The feeling snakes its way up from your stomach into the cavern of your ribcage, splays its weight across your delicate, pounding heart.

And then the rational part of your brain whirs weakly to life.

What are you doing?

“I have a boyfriend,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re reminding.

“Mhm,” Javi mutters, deft fingers peeling the fabric of your t-shirt up, up, up your body. You don’t stop him.

“And does your boyfriend —“ he kneels down, presses a kiss where exposed skin meets denim — “make you feel as good as I do, cariño?”

You can’t answer that. It wouldn’t be right. Because any of this is.

“Javi — I,” you try, cut off abruptly by dull teeth in the flesh of your waist. You yelp, the sweet sting quickly dissipating as he pauses. Pulls back.

“You can say it,” he goads with a wicked smirk. “I won’t tell him.”

“He — no,” the words leave you before you even feel them in your mouth, and then you’re cursing yourself. You can’t take it back — it’s too late. Javi knows, you know. The only one still in the dark is Nathan.

Javier says your name. His tone is different, soberingly serious.

“Tell me to stop.”

Fuck.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, “and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, so quiet you barely hear yourself.

“Cariño-”

“I can’t,” you stammer, louder. “I — fuck, Javi. Please.”

“Please?”

He knows what you’re asking for; he just needs to hear you say it.

“Please fuck me.”

In an instant, he’s standing back up, grasping at your sides and impatiently guiding you onto the couch. He brackets you against the cushions, one hand splayed next to your head on the backrest, the other popping the button of your jeans open.

You lift your ass as he tugs them down your legs, pulls them past your ankles and leaves them in a heap on the floor. And then he’s moving down your body, kneeling at your altar and prying you open for him.

You surrender to him willingly, desperation growing when he pulls your panties aside and gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“This gorgeous pussy,” he hums, leaning down to taste you.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You miss it?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he groans. Dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, refamiliarizing himself with your nectar before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He knows your sounds, knows their tells, soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt.

His lips wrap around your clit, then, envelope it completely as he starts to suckle, and the sudden sensation makes you buck your hips.

“Javi — fuck, oh — holy-”

He retreats, mouth shiny with your arousal. “What is it, baby? Your boyfriend doesn’t eat your pussy like this?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit breathlessly. Javi clicks his tongue. Faux-pouts at you.

His lips reattach to your clit and you curse.

“Fuck, Javi, he — he’s never-“

The half-admission stops him in his tracks. He stares back up at you with narrowed eyes.

“Cariño, don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you?”

Your face heats. “He — he says he doesn’t like to do it.”

Suddenly, Javi looks livid.

His fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

He’s unaffected by much these days — but Javi clearly doesn’t take kindly to a man not pleasuring his woman. Especially when you are the woman in question.

“Pendejo,” he murmurs.

“Javi,” you whine. “Please.”

Your pleading voice seems to snap him out of it. Or at least remind him of the task at hand.

He returns his attention to your dripping pussy with one final huff. “Gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Javier begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders.

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You hope, fleetingly, that his neighbors are heavy sleepers. Better yet, that they’re out of town.

Maybe he’s putting in extra effort because he knows now that your boyfriend isn’t doing this for you at home. Or maybe he’s just better at it than you remember. Regardless, you find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Javi’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

You sing Javi’s name like a hymn. It rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound.

When your breathing evens, he lifts off of his haunches, motions for you to lay flat on the couch with your neck supported by the armrest. And then he shucks his pants off, his cock immediately springing up to his stomach, a trail of precum dripping down his navel.

You’d forgotten how gorgeous it was — the heady, pink tip shiny with arousal, veins running along the underside of the thick base prominent. It twitches in interest as Javier leans down to kiss you, prods against your slick inner thigh when his tongue presses into yours.

You hook your legs around his back, desperately attempting to pull him closer, attempting to drag him into your achingly empty cunt.

He grins against your lips, hand moving between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance.

“Impaciente,” he mumbles.

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please Javi, need it.”

“Yeah?” He pauses with his cockhead right at your seam. “How bad?”

“Fuck — so bad, need it so bad.” Your nails burrow deeper into flesh. He hisses.

“God damn, querida; that much, huh?”

“Yes, Javi,” you groan. “Please just-”

He bottoms out in one deep thrust, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. You moan in unison, his head falling against your shoulder as he slowly begins to move.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, clenching around him over and over again. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his cock nudging your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You wonder how you went so long without this. Fear you won’t be able to again.

He pulls all the way out and snaps into you before setting a new, brutal pace, one that leaves you babbling underneath him.

The room grows palpably warmer, white heat licking at your neck, your chest, your back — where it sticks to leather. You find yourself lost in the way your bodies move together; a dance you’ve done so many times before; one you’d perfected all those months ago.

“Shit,” Javi slurs. “Take me so well, cariño. Like you’re — ahh — made for me.”

I am, you want to say.

“Fuck,” you moan instead, “so good, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

And it does. You’re going to snap soon, going to cum for a second time, soak his cock.

You tighten around him, a silent warning. He slips out and you whine at the loss. But then he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wider for him and delving back in at a new angle that makes you scream.

You can feel it building now, like a snowball in your abdomen. You can’t fight it, can barely warn Javi, his name spilling brokenly from your throat as your orgasm crests.

He talks you through it with praises whispered in your ear. So beautiful, princesa — that’s it. So pretty when you fall apart on my cock. There you go; let it all out, baby.

Fucked-out and boneless, you beg for Javi to please cum inside.

He growls, low and primal, gripping tightly to the flesh of your waist as his thrusts begin to falter. “That what you want, querida? Want to — shit — want to go back to your boyfriend with me dripping out of you?”

“Yes,” you chant thoughtlessly, yes, yes, yes.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl.” he grits, each word punctuated by a jerk of his hips.

He spills inside you with his teeth in the crook of your neck. There’s so much of it, filling your cunt, leaking out around his cock and onto leather. It sates you in a way you didn’t know possible, as if your womb needs to be claimed by him and only him. Nobody else will do.

You almost resent the feeling of your eyesight returning and your breaths steadying. You don’t want to come down — not if it means you need to go home.

But the sky outside is turning purple, bruising with the threat of a new day on the horizon, and you know your time together is nearly up.

“Javi,” you mutter, his chest still heaving against yours, cock softening inside you.

“Up.”

He shifts, pulls out in a devastating loss, and retreats to the opposite side of the couch.

You begin to knead the muscles in your aching calves, Javi fumbling with the pack of cigarettes on the side table next to him. He takes one out and lights it, the end glowing faintly.

“What do we do?” you ask. He rubs at the crease in his forehead, definitely set there by years of chasing after drug cartels. Maybe also by running away from meaningful conversation with you.

“You can’t go back to him,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “I can’t? I have to Javi, Nathan is my-“

“Don’t say his name,” he snaps, abruptly ashing his cigarette and turning to face you. He looks wrecked, his eyes wide and his lips downturned.

“What do you want from me, Javi?” you bite, pulling your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans where they lay on the floor. “You want me to be at your beck and call forever? Cheat on him until one of us dies?”

“I —“ Javi sighs. “No.”

“Then what?” You pull your pants on: one leg, then the other. Pull your shirt back down to cover your breasts.

“I — want you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“What?”

“All of you,” he clarifies. “When I saw you with him for the first time in that grocery store — my heart sank. I didn’t — didn't realize how serious my feelings were for you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you end things that day.”

He stands. Braces pleading hands on your shoulders.

“I know I’m an asshole,” he continues. “I thought I could never be someone’s partner. That I wouldn’t…wouldn’t be good. How could I be when I’ve done so much bad in my life?”

You sink into his touch. His words.

“Javi-“

“No, cariño — I need you to hear this. I want to be good for you, know I can be. I’ll do anything. I just — I can’t let you get away again.”

You feel as if you’ve just been struck by an arrow. Or, more accurately, a train. Your bones hurt and your insides twist.

You’re silent for a long moment, watching as his eyes desperately search yours. You know you need to say something eventually, put him out of his misery, but you’re too afraid to find out what happens next.

The undeniable fact that you want to be with him too is almost too much to bear. You’ll have to break it off with Nathan, split his heart in half. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, over and over.

But then, maybe you don’t deserve to remain unhappy. Unfulfilled.

Maybe you need to hurt him once in order to stop repeatedly hurting yourself.

“You’re good, Javier,” you say then. “You’re a good man. You deserve good.”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He retracts them with a deep breath in.

You grab the sides of his face. “Yes. And I — I want you too.”

Javier kisses you, so deep you think your lips might bruise. There’s finality in it — you’re his and he’s yours — and no longer will you pretend that’s not the case.

He drives you back to your place, unwilling to let his girl get in another cab alone before daylight.

Laredo looks beautiful at dawn, all dozing buildings and empty roads. You pass by your workplace and groan at the realization that you’ll have to be back there in a few hours; you can’t call out again. A stack of unfiled reports will surely be waiting for you atop your desk.

That dread doesn’t last long, though, not when you look to the man in the driver’s seat, the one who makes your mouth water and your heart skip.

When he catches your gaze, corner of his mouth turning up at you mischievously, you know for certain that everything will work out just fine.

Javi turns onto your street slowly, moreso than he needs to, a possessive hand gripping your thigh.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks when the car pulls up to the curb.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say it won’t go well, but-“

“I know. But if he gives you any more trouble than he needs to, you call me.”

Your eyes flit up to your bedroom window, blinds drawn up and curtains pulled aside. The room is still dark, Nathan no doubt still asleep.

You’ll go up in a second. After you kiss Javier one more time.

He seems taken aback when your lips catch his, maybe because it’s crazy to do this here, now. But you can’t help it. Can’t keep your hands — or your mouth — off of him now that you have him.

He relaxes into it after just a second, licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head to hold you against him.

And then — he abruptly pulls away.

“Shit,” he curses, staring wide-eyed at the window.

You follow his eyeline, freezing when you see what he sees: Nathan, tall and shadowy, looking straight at you.

“Well,” Javi laughs nervously, “I think he knows.”

end notes: ty so much for reading! pls consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed :)

tag list: @janaispunk @kajashe @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @littlegrungegirlaf @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @wethairjoel @catchallfangirl @pamasaur

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #narcos fanfiction #javier peña x you #narcos fic #javier peña narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal as javier peña #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena smut

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sukunasteeth · 1 month

Text

Wrestle Me

Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.

Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.

The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.

Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.

You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.

The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.

An idea comes to mind.

Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.

"Wrestle me." You beam at him.

It was somewhat of a joke.

Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.

Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.

Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.

His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.

"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.

You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.

You love when he’s in a playful mood.

"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.

Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."

You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.

"Let's find out."

Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.

Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.

The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future.

"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."

"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.

Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.

He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.

"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position.

"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?"

It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well.

"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"

"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."

That did it.

Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.

No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.

Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.

#jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #little something something #is it obvious how obsessed I am with the thought of him pinning someone down?#makes my heart go bingabangdingdang #also can we talk about this manga panel #my writing

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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months

Text

✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | luke hughes (feat. quinn + jack) ♔

summary: the relationship between the hughes brothers is special, but the bond between quinn, jack, and luke’s girlfriend is something else or four times quinn and jack were there for luke's girlfriend when she couldn’t tell luke or luke wasn’t availble

warnings: finals (physics), stress, crying, mean comments, threats, fighting, car breaking down/running out of grass, being followed, angsty + fluffy, asshole luke

notes: happy almost (or now) new year everyone! i still have three hours (central time different fr). for the finals one you can pick whatever you want but i suck at physics so i put that but you can put math or something related to your own major if you want, also I gave you a 4.0 bc i can and it made sense for this. I tried to do as much with quinn and jack but my luke side was coming out a lot in the second and last one.

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

The One with the Finals | Quinn ~ Winter of 2023

The day before her physics final, y/n was in tears. There were papers not only all over her desk but on the walls and the ground as well. The whiteboard that hung in her apartment was littered with kinematics equations and a bunch of random vocabulary words that probably weren’t necessary for her final.

More tears sprung in her eyes as she looked at her review guide, “Who the fuck knows this shit?”

Her roommates had already gone home, finishing their finals the day before so she was alone. It was almost 7 and she had been studying for six hours, maybe more. She knew she should stop and take a break, make some dinner, maybe even watch a movie, but she couldn’t, not now, not when her grade was on the line.

She was so close, oh so close to being done but the last question was too much for her. It sent her brain into overdrive, the wires were crossed, and nothing made sense anymore, not that it ever did anyway. She let out a noise, a cross between a groan and a whine, and threw her notes down and her pencil across the room.

She took a peak at her phone and noticed the mass amount of messages from her boyfriend, a few from her parents, and a few from Luke’s family. The boy was so worried that he made his parents and Quinn and Jack text her just to see if she would answer, but she didn’t.

Now, no offense to Jack (but offense) and no offense to Luke, but they weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. Which is why she called Quinn, tears still obviously present.

“I’m going to fail.”

“Y/n? Luke’s been calling you for hours.”

“Yes, I know. I was studying for physics, and I’ve concluded that I’m going to fail.”

Quinn sat up from where he was lying on his bed, “No, you’re not.”

She let out a sob, “I am and then I’m going to get kicked out of school and everyone’s going to make fun of me and then Luke won’t want to date me anymore and then you guys will stop talking to me-”

“Hey! Calm down, none of that is going to happen because it’s not possible, y/n/n. What’s your GPA right now?”

“A 4.0.”

Quinn laughed, “Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re fine. I promise you, but if you feel that badly about it, I’ll help you study.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m fucking with you. Of course, I’ll help you. You’re my favorite sibling after all.”

“I’m not even related to you.”

“Yet.”

Y/n sent the PDF of the review guide to Quinn, who now sat at his desk on his computer. The two talked and studied with one another before Quinn realized the lack of color in the girl’s face, “Have you eaten yet?”

Y/n looked at him and then quickly looked down shamefully, “No.”

Quinn looked like he was going to yell at her but in reality, he was just worried, and the tiniest bit frustrated with her for not taking care of herself, not that he would ever tell her that though, “Go make dinner, you can bring me with if you want. I’ll even make my own.”

“But-”

“No, you’ll think better if you eat.” That could’ve been a total lie, but she would’ve listened to him anyway.

She took her phone and computer with her, still talking to Quinn as she made some ramen - the good kind, not the crappy instant one. Quinn smiled, happy with himself for making his brother’s girlfriend - or if he had it his and Jack’s way, his sister - take care of herself and feel better.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

She had just gotten done with her final and she screamed internally, walking out of the room and heading to her dorm, waiting for her family to pick her up. She called Quinn immediately after she stepped out of the building.

“Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Guess what?!”

Quinn had been on his way to practice when he got the phone call, “What?”

“I passed!”

Quinn smiled, “See I told you, you would.”

“Thank you!"

✧༺✎༻∞

The One with the Haters | Jack ~ Fall of 2023

It never really bothered her, and Luke always said it shouldn’t. Yet, when Luke started his rookie year and gained more attraction, so did she. They were worse than what they were before, they came in mass amounts, the words dug deeper, and everything seemed to escalated.

This wasn’t something that should’ve burdened Luke, he had enough to deal with it being his rookie season and trying to perform as well as he could, he didn’t need to hear about his fans attacking his girlfriend as well. Luke was, let’s just say, the most oblivious of them all. So she didn’t really have to worry about him finding out about it, anyway.

However, Jack knew about her mood changes. Every time she visited the two in New Jersey, she distanced herself from them, she took notice of who was around them when they went out and strategically sat next to Luke so people wouldn’t make accusations of her favoring Jack over him but not too close to him that it would seem like she’s attached and overbearing him.

He also took notice of the comments on his brother’s Instagram posts or whenever the wags would post y/n at a game.

‘He’s too good for her.’

‘Why does she even come? It’s obvious he doesn’t want her there, he doesn’t even play well when she’s there.’

‘She’s just using him.’

‘7 don’t know what he sees in her.’

‘She’s not that pretty.’

Those barely scratched the surface of the comments. There were more, most about her looks and another good chunk of them just saying how the two didn’t make sense together. But the ones that hurt the worst, were the ones that came up once or twice in every ten posts. The ones that were about her using him, the ones that made threats to her and her family. The ones claiming that they knew everything about her life. The ones that said she was cheating on Luke with Jack or Quinn.

Jack had his fair share of hate comments, many of which he remembered from his rookie season. He knew how it felt to have someone close to him be praised so much and then be torn down for simply having a relationship with them and not being as good.

The Devils were visiting Detroit near the late end of November and y/n decided to go to the game, hanging out with them the two days that they flew down early to be with her before the game. They were out at a restaurant and y/n was sitting in the very corner of the booth that they got.

Luke sat down next to her as Jack slid into the other side of the booth, still bantering with his brother. Luke was oblivious to the distance between him and y/n, shrugging it off as if she was just hot. Luke and Jack continued to talk about the game, stopping for the waiter to take their order who just so happened to be a fan of the Devils. Y/n rolled her eyes as she subtly flittered with her boyfriend, giving Jack a look.

The waiter walked away and Luke got up and left to the bathroom, “So when are you going to tell him? Or are you waiting for him to figure it out by himself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n dug her face into the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jack.

“Uh huh, sure. Then what are these?” Jack showed the girl his phone, comments from Luke’s most recent post showing.

“Jack.”

“Y/n.”

“There’s not much he can do about it anyways, they’ll keep doing it no matter what. Besides, they’re not wrong.”

“He has a right to know and no, nothing they say is true. You are Luke’s world and he will defend you until he dies. If someone is threatening you, which there is, he will find a way to stop it. And Quinn and I will help too. We want you safe.” Jack reached over the table to pat her shoulder.

She nodded, “Just talk to him. Okay?”

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

Later that night, Luke was in bed with y/n, both of them on their phones. Luke was playing a game and y/n was on Instagram. She hadn’t actively searched out the comments but when she saw a post of her with 200 comments under it, she had to look, and they weren’t all that different from what she was expecting.

“Luke?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

“What comments?”

“These.” She handed Luke her phone and watched as he scrolled through them, and before he could say anything, she took it back and showed him her DM’s.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve done something to stop this.” She just shrugged.

“Sweetheart, this is scary. I don’t you to have to endure this by yourself, nonetheless.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. I know everyone thinks I’m oblivious, and yes, sometimes I am, but I can see you’re hurting and you have been for a while. I might not have known why or how but I was so worried about you, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to stop this.”

Luke placed his hands on her face and she wrapped her hands around his wrists. His thumbs lightly rubbed over her face, just under her eye, as hers rubbed up and down his hands, stopping at his knuckles to rub over them as well. She smiled slightly at him but was still worried about everything that was going on.

“Hey,” Luke made her look up at him. “Everything is going to work out, no matter how long or how much it’s gonna take. I’m going to get Quinn and Jack to help, I’ll have the team help as well. We’re all going to help to make sure you and your family are safe. I promise.”

She nods, “Okay.”

He kissed her forehead before her lips and pulled back to smile at her.

✧༺✎༻∞

The One with the Car | Quinn + Jack ~ Summer of 2023

Despite dating for three years, y/n was never really the biggest fan of letting Luke help her, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anyone helping her, to be honest. That’s why when she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind and not thinking straight, she hesitated to call her boyfriend.

It was the summer, she had been visiting the Hughes family at the lake house and she had gone to get some food for dinner for her, Quinn, and Jack. She wasn’t lost per se, when she left she knew how to get back home, she had been there countless times before. Yet, she felt as if she was being followed and that scared her, causing her to go a different route home, one she wasn’t that familiar with, and even then she sort of knew where she was.

The car was still following her so she decided to start taking random turns here and there and when she did the trick she was taught, take four right turns, they left after the first one. She let out a deep breath and continued to drive, just to see if they would pop up again, but they didn’t and now she was in the middle of nowhere, with an almost empty tank of gas.

Back at the lake house, Quinn, and Jack sat in the living room. Ellen, Jim, and Luke decided to go out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, and the whole nine yards, the other three weren’t bothered to even move from their seats. In hindsight, should they have just gotten Uber Eats or DoorDash, yes, but y/n wanted to get out of the house, just to a certain extent.

She didn’t want to interrupt her boyfriend’s time with his parents so she called Quinn, voice wavering, “Quinn.”

��Hey, y/n. Where are you? We thought you would be back by now.”

“About that. I’m sort of in the middle of nowhere and there was this car that was following but they stopped but I also don’t know if they just left and are coming back because they knew I was onto them-”

“Hey, calm down. Send me your location, Jack and I are on our way. Keep us on the phone and if you see them come back just start driving.”

“I’m almost out of gas.”

“We’ll hurry, just keep a lookout, okay?”

Five minutes passed and the boys were almost already halfway there, speeding the whole way as much as possible. She looked up and in the rearview mirror, there were headlights, “Guys? Is that you?”

Jack and Quinn looked at each other in confusion, “No?”

“Well, shit.” Y/n turned her car on and immediately pressed on the gas.

The car didn’t follow her, simply turned on the street behind where her car had been, but she didn’t know that, so she kept driving until her car was out of gas, “I’m out of gas.”

“We’re almost there, you should see us, right… about… now.” She looked up and saw them, easily recognizing the car. She got out of the car and practically ran to them.

Quinn hugged her back when her arms wrapped around him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?”

She shook her head, “I’m fine, just still a little spooked.”

Jack stood off to the side and only now had y/n just noticed, “Hi Jack.” She looked at him tentatively. Contrary to her belief, Jack loved hugs, especially y/n’s hugs. She always thought differently, so she always hesitated to hug him.

Yet, when he opened his arms, she ran into them just as she did with his older brother, “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Always.”

✧༺✎༻∞

The One with the Fight | Quinn + Jack - April of 2023

“I just don’t understand, Luke.”

“Of course, you don’t you never do!”

They had been arguing on and off all day, everything the other person did set them off, it was hours of pointless and petty arguing. Realistically, they both had been in the wrong, but Luke screwed up the most. It was when they both found out that he would be going to Jersey.

She had scheduled plans with friends earlier that week, but she would’ve dropped everything to hang out with Luke and help him pack. She offered to do that but Luke declined, saying he could handle it and he wanted her to go out and have fun with her friends. Truthfully, they had been spending almost every waking moment together since they knew.

“You were to one that told me to go hang out with them! I offered to help you and stay with you, but you declined!”

“I never said that.”

Y/n gave him a look that said all the different, “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“Oh, I’m the liar?”

“Yes!”

“If you loved me, you would’ve stayed back, anyways. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation. Don’t wait up.” Luke took his duffle bag and suitcase and left y/n’s dorm.

She stared at the door as it slammed practically in her face. The silence was deafening in the room, you could hear the barking of dogs and horns blaring from outside. If you listened hard enough you could hear the wind slapping against the window.

For two minutes she stood there, staring at the door, body still and her hair blowing from the AC. She snapped out of her trance when she felt a lone tear roll down her face. Since then, it was one after another and she ran to grab her phone from her nightstand dialing Jack’s number.

Jack answered confused, “Hello?”

“I think Luke might be on his way to Jersey.”

“But he’s not supposed to leave yet.”

“We got into a fight and he sort of-” She choked on a sob, “stormed out of here with his duffle and suitcase.”

“What do you mean you guys got into a fight? You guys never fight.”

“Yeah well ‘never’ is a fucking stupid word. And this is totally not the point of this phone call, Jack. Can you just make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him getting hurt or anything.”

“Luke’s a big boy and if he decided to come here on a whim then he can handle it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tears still were streaming down her face and she picked at her nails as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor.

“What happened, y/n/n?”

“It was stupid, it was my fault.”

“You’re lying.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re voice is more intense when you lie because you try to convince everyone you’re right by sounding more confident.”

“So why do you know that and not Luke?” She balled to the older boy, placing her head in her hands, the phone dropping from her grasp.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Jack tried to gain her attention but failed, causing him to add Quinn to the call.

“Jack? Y/n? What’s up?”

“Y/n answer us.”

“What’s going on?”

“Y/n! Come on, please answer.”

“I’m sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“Can someone please explain to me what is going on? And where is Luke?”

“Luke fucked up is what’s going on,” Jack said, annoyed.

Y/n now sat against her bed and her phone propped up on the wall, switching to face time, “We got into a fight.”

“You guys never fight.”

“Yes, I’m aware, now can we move on from that fact because it happened and it’s over with.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“He was mad because he’s supposed to be leaving soon and I went out with my friends after I had already offered to stay back and help him pack and everything like that but he said no. So, he’s right, it is my fault. If I loved him, I would’ve stayed.”

The was a simletanous silence from the boys before a loud, “He said that?!”

“Yeah? Why? Is he right? I knew he was right.”

“No, no, no of course not. He’s not right. He’s a fucking dick for saying that.”

“But I should’ve stayed with him, he’s leaving soon.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

“Y/n/n, listen to me right now. Nothing you did tonight was your fault. Maybe something that we don’t know that happened you did, but what he said… you didn’t deserve that. He knows how much you love him and if he stooped that low to make you feel bad, then maybe he should take some time to cool off. I’m not saying that he should’ve left the way he did, but maybe some space is good.” Quinn explained to her.

She nodded but tears were still falling, “Do you think he’s going to break up with me? I mean, he’s going to go off and be in the NHL and I’m just going to be me. I’m nothing special.”

Jack and Quinn made eye contact through the phone and Jack went to say something but was interrupted, “You’re everything to me.”

She snapped her head to the door and saw Luke standing there, his bag falling to the ground. She stood up quickly, wiping her face rid of any signs of her crying, “Luke.”

“How could you say that about yourself?”

Quinn and Jack hung up the phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation despite them wanting to be there just in case he said something out of line. Luke wrapped his arms around the girl, “You are the most amazing person ever. I’m so sorry if I made you feel any differently.”

Y/n just shrugged, not bothered by that but more so the fight itself. Luke pulled back, saddened slightly by the lack of reciprocation in the affection, “And I am so sorry for what I said. I know you love me and I know I said you could hang out with your friends. I think just deep down I thought you would’ve stayed anyways and I was scared of leaving you.”

Y/n nodded and Luke’s hands went to her cheeks, wiping off the remnants of her mascara, “I understand, Luke. I just wish you would’ve handled it more like an adult than a teenager.”

“And I can’t even begin to explain how horrible I feel about that.”

“Can we just cuddle?”

“Anything you want.”

The two laid in better for a little while as they hadn’t wanted to do anything else. An hour later, y/n spoke, “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. Emotions were high and I know that shouldn’t be the way we should handle things but we’re both stressed and you’re leaving soon I just want to forget about it.” Luke nodded, wanting to respect her wishes, “I love you, Lukey.”

“I love you.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #hockey #nhl #luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes x reader #jack hughes #jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x platonic!reader #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x platonic!reader #hughes brothers #hughes brothers x reader #nj devils #vancouver canucks

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kleftiko · 1 year

Text

❦ FAMILY MEN

ft. aizawa, hawks, bakugo, dabi

MASTERLIST

—aizawa

your daughter looked up at eri as she taught the younger girl how to style hair clips and accessories. your daughter was just over a year old, curious about things but not good with coordination, so eri enjoyed being the big sister and teaching her all about fashion. and who was the model for her cosmetology lessons? none other than your husband, shota. there was nothing his girls couldn’t get away with, so he sat patiently as he graded work on the floor as they tugged and pulled on his black locks. every once in a while there was a wince or grimace on his face because they weren’t that gentle, but he didn’t say anything. you silently laughed watching them from across the room, thinking that you couldn’t have chosen a better man.

—hawks

the habitual babbling of your little boy rang through the kitchen. you looked up at the clock because you knew your boyfriend would be coming home around this time. it seemed your son was starting to get a sense of time by figuring out when his dad came back everyday. and just as planned, the front door flew open, and a rush of red flew in front of you, straight to the highchair as keigo lifted your son. the air was instantly filled with giggles and kisses as the hero greeted his pride and joy. for a minute you were an afterthought, going back to your work until he gave you a few sweet kisses in greeting, son still in his arms.

“can we have a girl next?” he asked and you smiled at him sarcastically.

“can i have a ring?”

—bakugo

you heard him shouting from the other room.

“don’t put that in your mouth! give me that!”

your daughter babbled in the same tone right back at him. despite not knowing how to speak yet, she gave her dad the exact same amount of attitude that he dished out. you were curious and apprehensive to see when she grew up.

“don’t talk to me that way!”

“katsuki!” you called. “keep it down.”

your husband emerged from the room, holding a freshly changed daughter on his hip who was muching happily on a clean diaper.

“she started it.” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes at his beef with an eight month old. “anyway, i—ow, shit!”

your daughter had bit his shoulder, obviously preferring her dad over the diaper.

—dabi

“i’m home!” you called but got no reply. you kicked off your shoes and went searching for your boys, only to find them in your bedroom. both were napping on the bed, dabi curled his body around his son as if to protect him from the world. your little boy had one hand grasping his dad’s shirt tightly, the other grabbing at dabi’s mouth, some fingers having pulled his lip down a bit. your heart melted at the sight, and you immediately sighed. your instinct was to curl up with them and hold them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb them so you just watched fondly for a couple minutes before dabi’s eyes naturally fluttered open. he blinked a bit before noticing you.

“if he doesn’t get his hand out of my mouth i’m burning him.”

“toya, no.”

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norrizzandpia · 6 months

Text

She’s Missed You (OP81)

Summary: In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.

Warnings: i forgot if there’s language in this, i don’t think so but maybe? Sort of angst, reader really misses him, THE CUTEST LITTLE THINGS WITH OSCAR’S FAMILY (i would write a whole ass imagine about what it would be like if reader was super close to Oscar’s little sisters and took them out on mornings to get coffee and such if y’all would like that lmk)

Note: I KNOW IT’S NOT A REQUEST IM SORRY I WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BUT THERE IS MORE TO COME TN SO HOLD TIGHT

The feverish knocking on the Piastri’s door late at night had Chris clutching a baseball bat in his hands, stepping suspiciously toward the slab of wood. When he reached it, swinging it open and bracing for a manic person to jump out at him, he quickly realized that aggression was not the needed emotion.

Y/n stood with teary eyes, staring back at the man who had become her second father, and asked him quietly, hesitantly if she could come in. The bat was quickly shoved to the corner of the foyer, Chris’s hands coming to usher her in, wrapping around her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. Nicole appeared from the hallway and gave him a quizzical look when she saw the way he was hugging their son’s girlfriend, the way he was consoling her.

Their hearts dropped when they heard her cry, “I miss Oscar.”

—

From that night on, Y/n slept in his room. With him being consistently away with F1, the parents had found out she was drowning in the amount of longing she held for her boyfriend, their son. They were accommodating and gentle to the girl they had known for years, even forcing her to call out of work for the first few days in order to settle in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been over to their house, spending nights there with Oscar multiple times throughout the year before he had left to travel the world. It was just that she hadn’t been there alone. She hadn’t even shown up at their doorstep seeking a stay in his comforting four walls, but Nicole had insisted when she heard the way Y/n was dealing with the hard transition.

The parents were close to calling Oscar, but just when they decided they would, Y/n made them promise they wouldn’t. She had explained to them that if he knew how much she was struggling with his departure, he would come back and that would ruin his good streak with the season. So, the family kept quiet, dodging questions about her when they finally were able to get ahold of their son. His sisters, Chris, and Nicole were the only ones to hold the knowledge that Y/n was sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed. To be honest, they all secretly found it endearing how she would come back to their home after a long day at work, have dinner with the family, and retreat back to his room to smell him on his sheets and in the sweatshirts she stole from his closet.

The girls, his sisters, absolutely adored her being there, seeing as she would take them to Starbucks whenever she could, allowing for their bond to grow deeper. Their Saturdays were spent holing up in Y/n’s car to eat donuts and slurp down sugar coffee while watching stupid YouTube videos and grilling Y/n on embarrassing Oscar moments.

Nonetheless, as fun as it was, Y/n still felt a hole in her heart when she closed his door and came face to face with his empty bed. All she wanted was to see him, to feel him and his touch, yet she would have to settle for their few and far between FaceTimes.

It was so carefully crafted, the secret the family withheld from Oscar, that they were all so convinced he would never find out.

That was until his surprise visit.

—

Rapid knocking on their door for the second time in six months had Nicole and Chris at a loss for words. The raps being thrown against the entry to their house was powerful and held an urgency that was unmistakable.

“Can you get that, Nicole?” Chris asked her as he washed dishes from the dinner they had had earlier that night.

She nodded, traipsing over to the quickening pounds and opening the door. What met her was her smiling son with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, a sight so dearly missed she almost fell into a puddle of tears.

“Oscar!” She exclaimed, jumping at her son and tackling him in the arms he had grown to seek comfort in.

At the mention of his son’s name and the sound of his wife's squealing, Chris peaked his head around the corner of their kitchen, catching a glimpse of the infamous brown hair. His smile was unwavering as he dropped the glasses with a loud clunk and ran over to the commotion at the front door.

“What are you doing here?!” He laughed as he wrapped his arms around his wife and son, a picturesque family.

Oscar’s muffled voice responded, “Thought I’d surprise you with the free time I have from the race being pushed back.”

The three of them disbanded, Nicole’s and Chris’s confused faces making him continue.

“Spa’s date was pushed back because of the storm they’re having right now. The race is scheduled for two weeks from now, but that could be pushed back as well because of the repairs they have to do. It hasn’t been publicized yet, that’s why you don’t know.”

At the new information, the story came together and his parents were nodding, bringing him into another hug after having not seen him for so long.

“I’ll be right back down, I’m just going to go drop off my bags in my room.” He murmured in their chests as they squeezed him tightly. The two were so excited to see him, they weren’t thinking about the girl that laid asleep in the very room their son was trying to get to.

He was halfway up the stairs when his mother yelled for him despite the rest of the house being asleep, “Oscar!”

He popped his head over the railing, “What?”

She walked to the end of the stairs, curling her finger at him, “I need you to come back down here.”

His head tilted, but he didn’t argue. His steps prodded at the rug underneath and when he reached his mother, she was ushering him to sit down on their couch.

“I need to tell you something before you go up there.” She eyed him seriously.

“Did you redecorate my room?” He deadpanned, looking at her with faux disappointment.

She shook her head, “No, Osc, baby, it’s about Y/n.”

At the mention of his girlfriend, Oscar’s demeanor changed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

She shook her head, Chris coming to join them on the plush cushions, “Nothing’s wrong with her physically. More mentally. She’s really missed you, Oscar.”

He nodded as if it was obvious, “I’ve missed her too. What does this have to do with my room?”

“She’s in there.” Nicole’s words struck him, but she didn’t allow for questions as she continued, “A few months ago, she showed up here and she was… she was just so tired, Oscar. She was crying and telling us how much she missed you, how happy she was that you had fulfilled your dreams, how proud of you she was, but how, at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear not seeing you. There was nothing to do, but try and comfort her which was a hard feat within itself. Understandably so, I came to the conclusion it would be beneficial if she stayed in your room for a while. Get it? She missed you and the only thing I could think would help her was staying in a place that smelled like you, felt like you were there. So, that’s how we ended up here. She’s been living with us for the past few months.”

By the end of it, Oscar was deeply confused for one particular reason, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chris sighed, seemingly signaling to his wife he would answer, “She didn’t want us to. Trust me, we tried, but she made us promise we wouldn’t. She didn’t want you to hear and then come back here in the middle of the season, jeopardizing how good you’re doing.”

He scoffed, “You still should’ve told me if she was struggling.”

Nicole landed her hand on his knee, rubbing softly, “Oscar, it was better to have her here and watch over her then drive her away by telling you. I would’ve loved to have both, but that wasn’t reality. Reality was that your father and I had to make a judgment call and we decided what was best. That was what was best. She’s gotten better. Sure, she still misses you, but, before, she was living all alone without anyone and I can only imagine how lonely she must’ve been. With her family moving away and everything, she really had no one to come home to when you had usually been there every time. We were able to give her that piece, so we did.”

Oscar’s mind calmed, realizing who he really needed to focus on, and he nodded at his parents.

“I understand, thank you.” He whispered, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Nicole and Chris didn’t respond, instead watching as their son took two stairs at a time to get to his girlfriend faster.

When he was out of sight, his footsteps looming over them, Nicole whispered to her husband, “I can’t wait until they get married.”

—

His hand smoothed over the cool metal of his bedroom door, taking a moment to calm himself down before opening the door.

What he found was his lovely girlfriend asleep in his childhood bed, a sight that younger Oscar would go crazy for. The Australian shuffled in and closed the door lightly, placing his bags on the floor gently.

When he was ready, he tiptoed over to her side, sitting down and brushing his hand over her arm that stuck out from the comforter.

“My love, wake up.” He said softly, hand caressing up and across her cheekbone.

She stirred, deep in sleep, but settled back down after a few seconds. Oscar smiled warmly, leaning down and kissing her forehead, trailing down to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then meeting her lips lightly.

That seemed to wake her enough for her to realize someone else was in the room with her. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at Oscar for a second. He clocked the way she seemed to hesitate, wondering if it was really him. He wanted her to understand he was really here with her, so he kissed her once more, this time with more intention. His hand smoothed her hair back and when she began to kiss him back, hands falling onto his back, he pulled away.

“Hi, baby.” He said against her lips.

She didn’t say anything, mumbling something incoherent, before her eyes teared up. The shine of the tears falling down the side of her face had his hands coming to pull her up from her laid down position. He pulled their bodies upright, so he could suffocate her in the material of his hoodie and the lengths of his arms.

She cried into his chest, squeezing at his hips when he whispered how much he loved her, how much he missed her.

Oscar was tired from traveling and even though his eyes felt heavy, he still initiated the conversation he needed to have with her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here? Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

Her head stayed glued to the hardness of his body, “Because I’m not going to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t handle her boyfriend going away from time to time.”

“But, baby, it’s not from time to time. It’s every weekend. You’re entitled to struggle, I was struggling just as you were. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you and I can’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you.”

She nodded as she sniffled, “I guess, you’re right. I just don’t want you to think that you have to come back here every time you get a break. I want you to be able to travel and see what your job allows you to see. You’ve always loved to travel, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue that to its fullest extent.”

“No, Y/n, I want to come back here every time I get a break. I know I love traveling, but I’m doing it so much now that when I do get time, I don’t want to spend it off somewhere foreign, I want to spend it with you.”

He took her silence as agreement, shifting the two of them in his arms so they could lie back down on his small bed.

In the darkness of the night, he watched her fall back asleep easily, wondering if that had been something she had had trouble with during their time apart like he did.

He was so enthralled with her finally being back in his arms, he didn’t realize how long he had been watching her sleep until the rising of the sun mocked him.

It was only when the commotion of his household began to erupt, Y/n waking up beside him and suggesting they sleep in a little longer, that he allowed himself to fall asleep right next to the girl who had missed him dearly.

The girl he had missed dearly.

#mclaren #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #op81 #mclaren formula 1

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pelova4president · 2 months

Text

Shadows are to protect I

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect II, III, IV

summary~ You just moved to Arsenal and everything was unknown to you but now you had Alessia. Your situationship with Alessia was everything but perfect but at least she was there, sometimes.

this is pure angst

Alessia is your whole heart. You could tell her that a thousand times and she still wouldn’t leave her boyfriend.

He doesn’t even get her, not like you do. He doesn’t appreciate her like you do. It should be you holding her hand on the streets. It should be you kissing her in the bars of London.

You didn’t really know when you started to feel that way. You’d just moved to England, a very scary move from your comfortable and warm Spain. Spain and Barcelona was all you’ve even known. Expending your world was just as terrifying as you’d ever believed.

The welcome was cold, very cold. It was the completely opposite of what you were used to, it was quite literally what you were petrified of. You left the warm sun kissing the dark little freckles on your face and exchanged the English rain dropping down on your hair. You weren’t even sure what to call it, not in English and not in Spanish either.

But even now you weren’t sure if you’d go back and stay in Barcelona. The sun might shine there most hours of the working days but you’d always be in the shadows. In the shadows of La Reina, Alexia Putellas, your sister.

The two coloured club had offered you a contract extension where you’d get paid twice the amount you did last year. You’d driven to the club like you did most days but this time you had one thing in mind, or so you thought. Signing for another three years and being the average defender in the team for whenever one of the original starters couldn’t participate.

A red and blue pen rested between your thumb and point fingers as you listened to your manager talk about the future. But most of it fell to deaf ears. “Alexia and you would be the head of the Champions League campaign. Imagine this, the Putellas hermanas on top of Europe.” he said full excitement. It wasn’t the whole campaign that set you off but how he began his sentence, ‘Alexia and you’.

You were sitting here, ready to sign your contract, for your future. They wanted you to sign and still their first thought was Alexia.

Without saying a word you stormed off. You were not doing this again for three more years.

You had spiked interest from multiple clubs, not only Europe but America too. But when Arsenal let your agency know that they wanted you, you knew that that was it. From now on you’ll be a gunner, through and through.

You got picked up from the Airport. With a sign reading ‘Putellas’. It felt good. They didn’t have to clarify which Putellas sister they were picking up, there was only one in London now, you. The bigger man, he might’ve even be twice the height of you introduced himself. And with the little English you had in store you thanked him and told him your name.

The man you now knew as Keith was a simple man. He opened the door for you and didn’t say much. You liked it that way, the silence was fine by you. You liked that the intimidating car you were sat in had tinted windows. Not so you couldn’t be seen but because it gave you some sort of comfort. When you were younger and Alexia was a rising star she had you sit in the backseat, where nobody could see you and where you’d be safe she’d say.

The little droplets of rain were doing races and you had lost for about the twentieth time when the car came to a stop. Keith grumbled something about being there and got out. You didn’t really know what to do and what they expected of you so you opened the car door. Picking your bags up you placed your right foot outside and your left followed.

It all went too fast, Jonas showed almost all the rooms in the building and the wet pitches that were not in any state to be used. You had to film a few shots for your signing announcement, get through a few medical test and finally got to go home.

Keith drove you to your temporary apartment just a few minutes away from the training ground. You had a streak of almost one hundred days of English on Duolingo so you thanked the tall man in the few words you had learned to say and got out of the black Range Rover.

You were home. You were home, you kept repeating those words but you didn’t believe it. You were home.

This is it now. North London is your new home.

The appartement was empty except for the blank furniture, it had no personality and it was hard to think there ever would be. Four white walls, a grey couch, a black kitchen and an all white bed in the middle of your bedroom. They didn’t even tell you that the kitchen would be just as empty as the apartment.

The sound of a notification alarmed you out of your emotionless state. You forgot to put your phone on do not disturb. ‘Where are you?’ it read. Alexia knew you didn’t sign for Barca the day before but she didn’t know you’d be gone by the morning. Tapping on the do not disturb mode you traveled to your all white bed.

And that is how it went, do not disturb mode on. You we there, at the training ground and the games but not really there. You weren’t in the right mindset to talk to anyone yet and that’s why it was so goddamn frustrating when McCabe or Mead tried to get you to talk.

You sat alone at lunch, didn’t go out with your teammates and barely stayed in contact with your sister. That was until Alessia Russo came into your life.

You didn’t mean to let her in. You decided early on that you were at Arsenal for your career and career only. But she changed that, so quick. And before you knew it you were falling for her.

She came into Arsenal and everyone was a fan of her. It seemed like she was friends with everyone instantly and it made you curious.

Alessia had been a gunner for almost a week when you realised she lived across from your apartment. She came knocking on your door one evening, offering you some of het pasta since she had made too much. You knew that she’d been searching for an opportunity to get you to talk to her but you didn’t expect her to come knocking at your door like that.

You let her in and she started to talk to you. You couldn’t exactly call it a conversation since she did all the talking and you muttered out some broken English once in a while. But even though you hated to admit it, she was nice company. It made you feel less lonely, she made you feel less empty.

You’d told Alexia about your move to Arsenal before it officially came out and she wasn’t pleased, at all. She was mad, mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You told her what had happened and what was racing through your mind when you made the decision but she just couldn’t fathom out the thought of you feeling that way. And that made you feel even less understood, it felt like your life was slipping away from you and you only made it worse with every next move you made.

But Alessia made you feel like you were okay for a moment. After the first day of eating together she offered you food almost everyday and after a month it became a tradition, you would diner together every single day and she even learned you English. You didn’t really progress in your Duolingo streak and didn’t talk much either so the help was very much needed.

It wasn’t until the first half of the season had been played that you realised you had other feelings for her. You saw her as more than just a friend. It was all going very fast and the feelings intensified by the day, that may be because she was the only one you really could talk to. It hurt you to even think about living without her and that might’ve the first warning you should’ve seen but you didn’t.

It was Alessia who kissed you first. You both had been drinking and the two empty bottles of red wine next to your grey couch were the evidence of that. Alessia was a touchy person, just like everyone in Spain so you didn’t mind. She was giggly and teasing you relentlessly.

“I bet you think about me hmm?” she hummed and started to climb on top of you. Taken aback by the movement you didn’t really react to anything she had just said. “I want to kiss you.” she whispered into your ear that was tinted red by now. You didn’t answer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay.” she leaned in, placing her pink lips on your red ones. It was sweet but turned desperate very quickly.

The blonde slept sweetly beside you that evening. The thoughts raced through your mind and none of them were making any sense. It was hard to think straight with Alessia next to you, that was what made things so complicated. But now that she was laying in your bed you couldn’t not have her there, you needed her.

Alessia started to stay over more and more, it became your new normal. Half of her closet was laying in yours and she even brought her favourite mug with her. You bought all her favourite foods so she would feel comfortable and she appreciated it, just not enough to stay with you.

You came home on a Thursday evening one day but Alessia was nowhere to be found. Normally she would be laying on your couch, watching some sappy Netflix show you refused to watch with her. A bowl of nuts in her hands she didn’t really like but it was a healthy snack so it would do. But the only thing you found on your couch was her blue hoodie. Well it was yours originally but she basically claimed it as hers now.

Putting your cold groceries away you walked towards Alessia’s front door. She had given you her spare key after leaving hers in her home, locking herself out for the second time. She had bought a keychain with it, a little Barca jersey with your name and number on it. You smiled down at the colourful jersey and opened the door.

Walking in you heard some laughter coming from the living room that you could describe in detail. It was a light living room with two big windows that were open at all times, she liked it that way. She bought a brown couch after you broke her beige one. You had gifted her a few plants to make the room a real living space but knew she didn’t really care for them so you’d come in and give them water.

The photo’s in her hallway were those of her mom, dad and brothers, who she adored so much. And even though she didn’t like to have pictures of herself in her home she had one of her and her best friend Ella after winning the Euros.

When you stepped into the living area you were a bit taken aback by the man sitting next to your Alessia. His left hand was draped over her shoulder, like it was the most normal thing. His right was resting on her thigh. Who was he?

You stood still, watching the pair until Alessia noticed you. Her eyes had gone wide. “Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked carefully. You didn’t answer. “Luke, this is my teammate, and well, this is my boyfriend Luke.” she introduced you and stalked towards your frozen form.

Boyfriend? You thought..

Alessia gave her boyfriend some weak excuse and walked you back to your apartment. You were in your own home again, a safe place. When Alessia started to talk again you cut her off. “I- you have a boyfriend? I thought we had.. something?” you looked almost lost to her. “Well, you thought wrong. Whatever you thought we had, we didn’t.” she said without any emotion behind her eyes, like she hadn’t spent the whole of last week in your house, in your bed, wearing your hoodie.

She left your house like nothing had happened.

Were you really that stupid, did you really think she’d like you. You had created this whole other reality, one where she’d actually like you and wanted to be with you.

You kept to yourself even more now. Alessia had gotten you out of your shell to some extent but now you had crawled back in again. Every moment you weren’t training or playing football you were at home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It wasn’t as empty as it was when it arrived but it felt like it. The life had gone away and that’s not something you can fix with a few overpriced paintings and some weird cactus.

You couldn’t eat dinner without Alessia, you couldn’t watch horrible movies without Alessia and you just couldn’t sleep in a bed without Alessia.

It was the one time you decided to go out and drink that she came over to talk to you again. She acted like nothing had ever happend, like it was back to normal again, like she had slept in your bed the day before. But you liked it, craved it even. You had longed for Alessia to come back again and save you from yourself.

So she ended up in your bed and stayed long enough for you to fall asleep. But not long enough for you to wake up to her scent or her sleepy blue eyes and messy blonde hair.

It went on like that, she came home with you for the night and you forgot about all the things she had done to you and you woke up to an empty bed. You did feel bad for the Luke guy, well you did in the beginning but somewhere along the way you started to lose that sympathy.

You were mad. Angry. He could drive her to training and hold her hand out in public. He could kiss her on the streets and wake up to her snuggled next to him. He could have all those domestic little moments and gestures you longed for. It wasn’t fair.

Alessia had prepared dinner for the both of you and you were watching a movie when you felt the need to talk to her about this whole situation. “Lessi, i really like you. I want you and i to be together because i love you.” there, you said it. Alessia didn’t look at you, she stared blankly at the movie infront of her. You reached for the distraction playing on the television and paused it but she still wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I love you.” you repeated again, hoping for a response. She sighed, “Look, i don’t know what you think we are but we aren’t that. I don’t know how many times i have to tell you this but i have a boyfriend and you’re just there for a quick fuck. That’s all. You’re not special just because your sister has won a few trophies. I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re fucking lonely but leave me out of it.” she hissed.

You just said you loved her, for the first time. You handed her your fucking heart and she stomped on it like it was nothing. Alesia knew your relationship with your sister was complicated and being in her shadows was something that hurt you the most in this world, but yet she brought it up. You’d told her everything you never dared to say out loud and she used it to damage you even more. She is your whole world but to her you’re a ‘quick fuck’.

You were hers but she’d never be yours

“Please go away.” you asked her, tears threatening to escape your tired glossy eyes.

You were left alone in your apartment and the loneliness was more torturous than ever. The fucking lasagna Alessia had made you had turned cold and you looked at the wooden table infront of you. There was a picture of you and Alexia framed, Alessia had printed it out to make you feel more like home but it only made you miss it more, especially now.

Looking at your phone you opened your chat with your sister. You hadn’t texted her in about a month, the last text being about your mothers birthday that you couldn’t attend.

You needed her, you needed you sister to protect you. You needed her to protect you from the sun and to place you in her shadows again. For once it was all you desired.

A/N let me know what you think of the fic!! Also, i don’t know if i should write a second part and if or how i should end up Alessia and R together. I could make R fall in love with someone else too??

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #engwnt #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenalwomen #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #arsenalwfc x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca women #angst #shadows are to protect

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elsweetheart · 1 year

Text

what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams fic #ellie tlou2 fic

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weasleykisses · 7 months

Text

Never His (Remus Lupin x Reader)

A/N: when James needs help asking out Lily, he enlists you to play his fake girlfriend to make her jealous. In the process, you end up making Remus Lupin green with envy.

18+ Version Here

Word count: 6.2k

You weren’t expecting James to throw himself into the chair across from you in the library, his face holding the most desperate of looks. He brushed his messy hair back from his forehead as he got situated in the seat. James looked like he had run all the way across the school to find you. You raised a brow, peering up from the textbook on the desk that you were trying to study. Remus turned to stare at his friend as well, taking a break from his own reading.

“Y/N, I need your help. It’s super important.” That could mean a lot of things, you thought. He was known for being quite the drama queen after all.

You replied smoothly, “I’m afraid I’ve got to hear the terms and conditions before I agree to anything.”

“Be my girlfriend,” James said bluntly. This took you by surprise. Your jaw fell slack, looking at him as if he had two heads. Was he insane or just incredibly stupid? What the hell happened to his obsession with Lily Evans? Since you met the boy in third year, he hadn’t shut up about the beautiful redheaded girl. She was certainly a catch too, with her looks and her brains. Who wouldn’t want to be with a girl like that?

You could feel Remus sit up straight as a board in the seat beside you, staring over at James with his eyes narrowed. The change was barely noticeable. James probably missed it; he was never very perceptive. You, other hand, noticed. Of course you did. You noticed everything about Remus. He was like a novel you had read a million times, comforting and familiar. Anything out of place, you took notice of.

You could certainly feel the tension coming off of Remus is waves. He never liked when James and Sirius fucked around with people for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he was a stick in the mud or anything, it was just that he hated when those two disturbed his peace with you. Hated it. Couldn’t he spend a few hours away from them? Enough time to appreciate your company?

Cautiously, you asked, “James, have you gone mad?”

He shook his head, eagerly reaching across the table and clasping both your hands between his, shaking them with excitement. “No, I have not! I’ve actually come up with a brilliant plan, but it will only work if you agree to help me out,” he said a bit too quickly, and you furrowed your brows, still awfully confused by the entire thing.

Remus was silent, just observing. He was angry, how could he not be? You were his girl. Well, not really. He had never asked you out, or implied he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But everyone knew that he liked you, maybe not you yourself, but everyone else. This included James. He should know better than to ask you out, especially right in front of him. It was cruel.

He wanted to argue with his best mate, James. Give him a shove in the shoulder and tell him to fuck right off. He refrained though. He wasn’t that bold, nor did he have the right to control what you did with your life. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever be your boyfriend. He just had to keep his mouth shut.

“Mind explaining then, Prongs?” you asked, pulling your hands from his grasp to cross your arms over your chest and leaning back in the chair.

“Be my girlfriend, just for a couple weeks, maybe a month. I’ll do anything you want if you help me out.”

“Why would you want me to be your girlfriend for any amount of time?” you scolded him.

“I want to make Lily jealous. The only way I can do that is showing her that I’ve moved on to other girls, but I don’t actually want to date anyone else,” he said, “You’re one of my best mates, and I don’t have to worry about you catching feelings for me like the other girls would.” He cracked a grin when you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. James wasn’t ugly, but he also didn’t have girls falling over themselves to be with him like Sirius did.

“Oh, thank Godric. I thought you actually wanted me to be your girlfriend.”

“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he laughed.

“Anyway, what would I have to do?”

Be my fake girlfriend for a month and I’ll buy you anything you want. We only have to pretend when we’re in front of other people, especially the girls. It’s basically fool-proof.”

“More like foolish, you dumbass,” you sighed. It wasn’t the worst proposition, considering James and his family were rich as fuck. He really could buy you anything you desired.

Remus was pretending that he didn’t care, his eyes trailed back down to the novel in his hands. James was just up to no good again, nothing out of the ordinary. He was hoping you would decline James’ request, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. You were great friends with James, and were usually willing to help him out in any way you could. He hated that he had to sit there and listen to you discuss plans to date like it was completely normal.

“Please, Y/N, please. You're the nicest girl I know. You gotta help a friend out,” he begged.

Just shut the fuck up, James. Remus thought to himself. He would never say it aloud though.

“Fine. I expect half of Honeydukes inventory as compensation, but I’ll do it,” you told him with a heavy sigh. He punched the air enthusiastically then hugged you so tightly around the middle that he lifted you from your chair and swung you around in his arms. He was quite strong from being a dedicated chaser, after all. You laughed nervously, pushing against his shoulders so he would set you back down. “Really, it’s no big deal. I’m doing this because I think you and Lily would be cute together, alright?” You told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied swiftly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sit next to me at dinner today. We’ll play it up then, make it public.”

“Okay.”

He turned around after giving you one last thumbs up, rushing out of the room to no doubt tell Sirius about his plan. They did everything together, so of course Pads would either figure it out himself or find out after James caved and explained himself. You took a seat again in the wooden library chair, sinking down with your hand pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know why you entertain him,” Remus finally commented. He sounded bitter, but you figured it was just because your study session was interrupted.

“No harm done. I get a bunch of candy, he gets one step closer to the girl of his dreams,” you reasoned, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.

If you were being honest, you wished that it was Remus asking you to be his girlfriend, but Remus didn’t care for you like that. You were just friends. Both of you enjoyed your quiet time together, whether you were reading or drinking a cup of tea. You liked to go to Hogsmeade together and drink butterbeer in a booth, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. It was something the other boys weren’t interested in. You could try hanging out with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, but they would always drift off to talking about boys, James in particular.

Remus just had a way of keeping your attention, entertaining your curious mind. You two had become so close over the years because of it.

You were the one that snuck into their dorm on nights after the full moon, healing potions in your pockets and bandages at the ready to clean up his injuries. You didn’t mind that he was a werewolf, in fact, you thought it was pretty interesting. It compelled you to work harder in your studies to be a healer, so one day you might be able to lessen his pain. Needless to say, you really liked Remus. He was handsome, tall, positively dreamy, and oh-so-sweet like honey and sugar. He was one of a kind, and you would be lying if you said his determination to stay just friends didn’t sting a little.

But the world keeps turning whether or not the boy you fancy likes you back. You tipped your head down again to study the text in front of you. Studying was especially hard now that you couldn’t think of anything other than James asking you to be his girlfriend before you mustered the courage to ask Remus.

______

The next time you saw James was at dinner that evening. You sat beside him after he waved you over. Normally you would sit on the opposite side with Remus flush against you to make room for everyone else at the table. Today, Sirius sat beside Remus and you took Sirius’ seat right beside James. He slung his arm around your shoulders to get you closer to him.

The brunette practically pulled you into his lap with how eager he was, and you yelped, garnering the attention of the other boys at the table. Remus scowled, turning his head down to glare into his soup. James didn’t have to be so dramatic. Lily would get the point without all the theatrics.

In fact, Lily was sitting at the other end of the table with her eyes trained on you and James. She looked a little perturbed, and when James turned to glance down the table, she quickly turned her head away, pretending she wasn’t at all interested. Real smooth, Lily.

You knew Lily liked James, at least a tiny bit. She talked about him far too often not to. You were in a few classes together, and James was a frequent topic of discussion. While Lily would never admit to her crush, she hinted at it here and there. It was a similar situation for you and Remus, who you vehemently denied having a crush on for a few years now. Lily was probably shocked to see you in the arms of someone else.

You played it up for the crowd, people from the surrounding tables looking at the both of you and whispering amongst themselves. Y/N and James? How scandalous.

Your hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined and sitting between you on the table for everyone to see, and it disgusted Remus. Sirius was practically gagging at the sight of two of his best friends being so openly affectionate, but at least his disgust was jokingly. Remus was genuinely disturbed. He wanted to leave the dining hall and head right to his dorm for the night, just to avoid the pangs of betrayal assaulting his heart.

He ducked his head to take a deep breath, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong. That James and the girl of his dreams openly acting like a couple wasn’t completely tearing him to shreds.

He figured Sirius caught on to how he was feeling because the black haired boy turned to him with a sympathetic, half smile, as if to say “what can you do?”.

“I missed you today, babe,” your voice dripped out, oozing with fake attraction. A sickly bright smile crossed your lips as you looked at James. Even worse so, James leaned forward and gave you a kiss to your cheek, and it didn’t even phase you. Since when were you and James so close? Even with the two of you playing it up, Remus never expected you to be so casual about it. It was like flirting with James came to you so naturally.

The pair of you laughed together and faked lovey dovey smiles here and there. It seemed to work too, because after only about ten minutes of PDA, Lily was packing her belongings and marching right out of the Great Hall with Mary following closely behind, most likely to console her. James grinned even brighter at that and pumped his fist in the air.

“I think it’s working,” he said happily, and you nodded. You still had to hold hands, to keep up the image for everyone who didn’t know it was fake, but at least you could chill out a bit without her around. You sipped on the baked potato soup in front of you.

“Working a little too well, don’t you think? What if she gets so upset that she moves on from you completely?” Remus asked, rather grouchy as he did so. He felt so sick to his stomach, unable to take another bite of his dinner without his inside churning.

He decided he was done with his dinner after looking up to his two friends all cuddled up with each other, deciding he had better things to do than endure this torture. He packed his bag and stood. You watched him stand, and quickly followed, gathering your belongings just as he did.

“Rem, wait up. Where are you going?” It wasn’t like him to leave dinner so early. You figured something was wrong. Your worries were only confirmed when he let out a long, exhausted sigh. You knew him too well to let him sneak past unscathed.

“I just need to take a walk. Not feeling the best,” he lied. Well, technically it was true. He felt like shit, just not in the way he wanted them to think.

Behind your back, you missed the look Sirius and James shared, that sneaky smirk coming to rest across James’ face. You also missed the way Peter snickered a bit under the cover of his hand. His friends were absolutely awful for doing this to him, but they thought it was the only way to wring a confession out of him. Hit two birds with one stone, as they say. Get both Lily and Remus jealous at the same time, hopefully uniting two perfect couples in the process.

“Well, I’m coming with you. We can go take a walk in the courtyard.” He didn’t protest as you hurried to catch up him and his long legs, your robes flying behind you as you rushed ahead. Just because you were “dating” James didn’t mean you were going to ignore Remus when you thought something was wrong.

And so, you followed your tall friend out of the dining hall into the hallway, making a b-line for the exit doors heading into the transfiguration courtyard. He felt a little better knowing you were with him and not cuddled up to Potter anymore. He was incredibly jealous, not that he would do anything about it. He didn’t even have the right to be jealous either. He had to remind himself time and time again, you weren’t his. You never were and most likely never would be.

It wasn’t long before the pair of you found your ways to a covered bench in the courtyard, sitting side by side, staring at the fountain in the middle of the snow dusted grass, looking into the pool of frozen water complete with golden coins preserved in the bottom. It was a muggle tradition that some students brought from home to the castle. They’d throw a coin in and make a wish, hoping it to come true.

There had been a few times you tossed a galleon in there, begging Merlin himself to give you what you wished for most in the world. The boy sitting right beside you, in fact. You had been making those same wishes for years now, and each time you were let down. Remus never asked you to be his girlfriend, nor did he kiss you in the rain like you always fantasied about. He hadn’t noticed the hints you would give him about how you felt, either ignoring them or choosing to be oblivious to them.

You cried many tears over the years because of your feelings for the boy. How conflicted you felt about confessing to him. You worried you would miss your opportunity and he would move onto another girl, but you also feared for your friendship. You didn’t want to make things awkward and lose him completely.

You watched the snowflakes as they fell around fountain, wondering what happened to all those wishes. Every wish you made begging to finally be his.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, looking down at your skirt and knee high socks, a thin slit between them exposing your bare skin to the frigid, snowy air.

You shook your head, snapping out of your daze. “I’ll survive,” you laughed, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“Really, Y/N, it’s nothing.”

“The only other time I’ve seen you storm out of the dining hall before having dessert was the day Sirius put a whoopie cushion under your seat. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He felt his heart pang in his chest at the nickname you always used for him. He wanted to be your sweetheart, to love and kiss you whenever he wanted. To hug you to his chest and profess his love into your ear. He wanted to hold hands with you during lunch, and to have you sit in his lap in the common rooms, regardless of who was around to see. He wanted everything to do with you. He wanted to just drown in your soft words and your gentle touches.

But he knew, just because you want something doesn’t mean you’ll get it. It felt like he needed you, to breathe, to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal human being. Maybe it was his naive 18 year old brain telling him these things, but he swore that he loved you more than anyone could imagine. He loved you from the tip of your nose all the way down to your feet. Every inch was perfectly tailored just how he liked it.

“Whatever it is, you’re gonna be alright,” you assured, nudging his shoulder gently with your own. For a moment, he forgot about the entire James situation and just thought of you, how you made him feel, and he did feel alright. He always felt safe when you were around. Even when he was his most vulnerable after a full moon, he trusted you to care for him.

James didn’t know you nearly as well as Remus did. He knew it was stupid to worry about you catching feelings for the brunette chaser with a wicked grin, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen girls flock to his two attractive best friends for years. He knew it was stupid, and he knew he should live in the moment.

In this moment, he had you to himself. He could pretend you were his, all he ever wanted.

“I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Me? What about you? You always know just the right things to say.”

He wanted to say just how much he loved you. He could feel the words stuck in the back of his throat, and he just wanted to cough them up. You took his breath away, literally.

It was quiet for a long time, just the two of you sitting there quietly, listening to the chilly breeze flying through. Your hand rested beside his on the bench, your fingers close enough that if you moved a couple centimeters you would be touching. What he wouldn’t give to hold your hand in his and press kisses to your knuckles.

He needed you, and he was just so scared. Seeing you with James made him upset enough, but the thought of losing you completely made him feel worse. Your time at Hogwarts was ending soon, and he worried so much, overthinking every little thing.

He wondered if you thought about the same things. If you worried about your life when you graduated. Where you would go and what kind of person you’d turn out to be. He knew you spent a lot of time working on healing spells, assisting in the infirmary when you could. You wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos, saving people.

Maybe you could save him, too, keep his head above water when things got difficult. The life of a werewolf is never easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without you by his side to ease the pain.

“When we are done with all this- Hogwarts, I mean…You’ll keep contact with me, right?” he asked, feeling that familiar sickness churn in his stomach, afraid of what you might say. He knew you would never say something cruel, but he found himself preparing for it each time. He was afraid he would never hear from you again once you found a good job at the hospital taking care of patients, running around each day busier than the next.

He felt the self-deprecation sneaking back in.

You nodded your head furiously. “Of course! I would never forget about you, Remus, you know that right?” When he didn’t respond, you reached up to take both his cheeks in your cold hands. You ran your thumbs along the scars across his face ever so delicately, he felt like you were running a feather against his skin. He sighed into your touch, leaning his head into your hand. “You’re my best friend. Nothing and no one could ever take me away from you.”

Bravely, he reached out so his strong, calloused palm rested on your thigh, his fingers pressing warmly against that gap between your socks and your uniform skirt. Shivers ran down your spine at the touch. He was so gentle with you, it made your heart melt into goo at the mere thought of his touch. You were sure he could hear your heart beginning to race with how hard it pumped in your chest, how excited he was making you.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him over the wind blowing against your ears.

“If anything, I don’t deserve you.” You ducked your head as you felt heat rush into your cheeks. “You’re perfect, Remus. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

After taking a deep breath, he started, stumbling a bit over his words, “Y/N- I have something to tell you.”

And you swore he was going to kiss you. As he stared down into your eyes, his eyes flickering down to your lips a few times. You waited for it, sitting there in anticipation, watching his every move. You felt his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your bare skin. Goosebumps rose to the surface and you shivered more from the contact than the cold breeze whipping against your face.

You were sure he was going to kiss you, if only the doors to the courtyard didn’t burst open with students barrelling through the doorways. Quickly, you pulled your hands down to your lap and he shoved his hand into his pocket. Your eyes trailed to the ground, and you mentally cursed yourself for being too slow, for not kissing him yourself when you thought the time was right.

Maybe he didn’t intend to kiss you. Maybe he was confused and was just showing you affection to reciprocate your own. Either way, you felt a spark with Remus that you hadn’t felt with anyone else. The kind you think you’ll only know once in a lifetime.

Whether you were fake dating James or not, you weren’t going to let that feeling go.

______

You two were the star couple of the party that night, standing in the middle of a celebration for Gryffindor, James holding a cup of liquor in his hand, and you carrying something fruity. He had his arm hooked around your neck, pulling you in close so his lips just barely skimmed over your ear. You smiled, finding the feeling of his skin against your ear and the breaths he was exhaling to be quite ticklish.

Lily was behind you, watching from the corner as she sipped on something nonalcoholic. She was never a drinker, and that just made it all the more infuriating for her to see you two dancing so intimately while she was stone-cold sober.

“I reckon she’s getting close to her breaking point, doll. You’ll be getting a shitload of candy once she approaches me about this entire thing,” he whispered and you laughed, nodding your head in agreement. Dating James wasn’t actually that bad. The only downside was that Remus wasn’t spending nearly as much time with you as before. Probably because you had to spend most of the day following James around to keep up the illusion of this whirlwind love affair.

It hurt, not seeing your best friend. You missed his company. He was your favorite person ever, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile. The way his sandy hair would fall over his eyes was effortlessly beautiful, and his sweaters made him look so intelligent and mature, two qualities you loved in men. James was unfortunately neither of those things. Perhaps that’s what made “dating” him so simple. There were no surprise feelings between you two because the things you each wanted in a significant other were completely different.

You wanted a Remus in your life. Someone so handsome it had you swoon. Someone kind and soft and gentle around the edges. Someone with a sweet tooth and a pretty smile that you could stare at for days without getting bored of it. You loved to talk to him about anything and everything, he just made it all so interesting. You wanted someone who shared your love of books, candy, and peace and quiet. Remus Lupin was all of that and more.

He was just so lovely. You wished he was the one you were dancing with and not James. You wished that it was his lips pressed to your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you instead of these nonsensical plans of making a certain redhead jealous.

He sat on the couch, talking with Peter about something that happened in potions that morning. He looked stunning with his face lit up by the flames in the fireplace. If only you could walk over there and take a picture, keep it forever, look at it whenever you were feeling down.

He glanced up at you every now and again, just checking. He never looked for very long though, turning his head down with a grimace on his face each time. Remus couldn’t stand the sight of you so intimate with someone else, even if he knew it was all fake.

But how was he supposed to know if you’d accidentally grown feelings for his friend over the course a few weeks. You’d gotten much closer, hugging and kissing on the cheeks and forehead quite often. You laughed when James told jokes no matter how stupid they were. You attended his quidditch matches, which you hated doing before this entire mess.

Remus was afraid you changed your mind somehow. That you now thought James Potter was someone you could see yourself dating for real.

He couldn’t handle the thought, feeling himself beginning to crumble. He tried to maintain the conversation with Peter, only to feel himself zoning out, eyes trailing over to you helplessly every time.

You wrapped your arms around James’ neck, dancing slowly at the song that played over the record player. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” He asked, “I think it’ll be the nail in the coffin to finish all of this.”

You pulled back a little, your face draining of its color. Did you want to kiss James? Not particularly. Did you really care? It was hard to say. You wanted to be kissing someone else, a certain boy on the couch, but that was out of the question. You and James were just friends, two actors trying to woo the girl he so desperately wanted. It was like acting in a school play. It was just pretend. Harmless, really. James had kissed tons of other girls before you. It was normal for him.

You always kind of imagined this sort of situation with Remus. It stung a little to know that you would sooner have the chance to kiss James Potter as opposed to your actual crush.

You peered over your shoulder for a second to see Lily looking absolutely taken with James, and then turned back to the boy in front of you. It was a tough decision, but you ended up nodding your head. “It’s okay. Nothing too dramatic, yeah?”

And with that, your quidditch playing, Lily-obsessed friend kissed you right in the middle of the bustling party. You lips pressed together and you shut your eyes so you didn’t have to look at him. He ran his hand down your cheek and over your jaw for a moment as he leaned in closer, really trying to make it look authentic.

Thankfully, it was short lived because soon enough, someone else had grabbed your arm firmly and tugged you out of James’ clutches. You turned around to be met with a sweater vest clad boy glaring down at the two of you with an unimaginable amount of frustration in his expression. His entire face from cheeks to the ears was red, and his lips were downturned into a frown.

“Rem-” you started, but he interrupted you.

“That’s enough,” he muttered, and you could clearly hear the hurt in his voice. James tried to make it better, claiming that it was all for show, that he should calm down a bit, but Remus wasn’t having any of it. “I think your little fake relationship thing has run its course, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong, Remus?” you questioned, peering up at him with those bright e/c eyes he had come to adore, and had missed over the past few weeks. “James, you stay here. Remus, let’s head to the dorms,” you suggested, motioning with your free hand to the stairwell leading up to the boys’ room. You certainly didn’t want to cause a scene.

James nodded, brows raised when he looked at Remus, a small smirk on his face. You didn’t know what he meant by that expression, but Remus sure did, and he was regretting the day he ever confessed to the boys that he fancied you. He wondered if James had an ulterior motive by fake dating you; if he did it to make Remus jealous, because if that were the case, he most definitely succeeded.

As you led him to the staircase, you noticed over your shoulder that poor Lily was walking over to James, her head ducked down shyly as she approached. James, as confident as ever, flashed a sparkly white grin and started a conversation as if it were the most easy thing in the world.

Remus followed you up the stairs and into his room, which was empty considering everyone was downstairs partying the night away. You shut the door behind him, finally letting go of his arm so you could cross yours over your chest. He was tall, and you had to look up to meet his eyes, but he was never intimidating to you. Not even when he was angry like today. He was too gentle to yell at you, much less hurt you in any way.

“Mind telling me what’s got you so upset?” You tapped your toes on the floor, the soft clicking noise ringing out in the quiet room, music from outside muffled by the heavy door.

You didn’t notice the water that was beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes.

He thought for a moment, before a whisper fell from his lips, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“Why did you have to kiss him?” he asked weakly, his voice suddenly a lot softer now that you were alone. A lot sadder, too. “Why did you have to kiss him right there in front of me?” he repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and he pressed the palms of his hands to cover them. He felt heartbroken. Absolutely crushed that you had kissed his best friend, that he had to watch as you did so. It was so casual, like it didn’t even matter to you, but it mattered the world to Remus.

He felt he might cry. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes and he tried his hardest to keep them from dripping down his cheeks. No matter how hard he tried, he found himself crying anyway.

You were crestfallen when you noticed the tears running down his cheeks, a gasp coming from your lips. He was crying, and it was because of you. You had done this to him, your best friend, the guy that you supposedly had a crush on for nearly 4 years straight now. You’d never made someone cry; it broke your heart.

You rushed up to him, bringing your hands up to move his, letting them sink to his sides. Softly, with the pads of your thumbs, you wiped away the salty tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t even shy away from your touch, he just let you wipe them away silently, not daring to look you in the eyes. His eyes were stuck to the ceiling, trying to blink away what he was feeling. You being so nice to him only made things worse. He felt like an ass. You could do whatever you wanted. If you wanted to kiss James, so be it. He had no right to be upset when you weren’t his.

“Remus, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

It was silent for a moment as he thought of what he wanted to say, as you stared up into his teary eyes with concern etched across your face. It was getting harder and harder to pretend everyday that he wasn’t bothered by your presence when you weren’t in his arms, when he couldn’t freely touch you and love you, and kiss you silly until you were laughing with glee. It took so much effort to suffocate all those feelings down. He didn’t think he could fuck things up anymore, so he said the only thing he had on his mind.

“I love you.”

You were at a loss for words. He loved you? You felt your heart beat faster in your chest at his words, and you shook your head, clearly having misheard him. There was no way that Remus Lupin loved you. Not in the way you thought he meant. Surely, he would have said something by now. Surely you would have caught onto what he was feeling this entire time. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/N. I’m already pathetic as it is,” he muttered, his eyes now drawn down to the red carpet below their feet.

“Remus Lupin loves me,” you whispered mostly to yourself, “You love me?”

He chuckled bitterly, “As catastrophic as it is, yes, with all my heart, Y/N. Since the very moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would have never kissed James if I knew-”

“Why would I tell you and fuck everything up?”

“Fuck everything up? Remus, I just wasted my first kiss on James Fleamont Potter when I could have been kissing you!”

“What?” Now it was his turn to be confused. He looked up to you finally, his eyes still glassy from crying, lips just agape with surprise.

You shook your head and laughed. “I’m in love with you! It’s always been you.” Your arms wrapped around his middle, hugging him to your chest and laughing into his sweater. He immediately took notice of your warmth radiating through his clothes, bringing him back to the real world. You loved him. You, the girl of his dreams, were hugging him and confessing your love to him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body, cradling you like a precious artifact in his possession. He never wanted to let you go again.

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You have no idea how hard it was keeping my cool around you all this time. When I saw you snuggled up to James, I wanted to kill him. He knew better than to make me jealous.”

“James knew how you felt about me?”

“Sirius, James, and Peter all knew.”

“And none of them thought to enlighten me? The betrayal.”

You inhaled the scent of his sweater, chocolate bars and mint coming in like waves. He was everything that you loved in the world all condensed into a single perfect person. He fit in your arms like a puzzle piece.

“Guess you’ve got to break up with James now,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking the back of your head, “Because I’m never letting you go ever again.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter #remus lupin #marauders era #remus lupin fanfic #fake dating #harry potter fanfic #james potter x reader #marauders x reader #hp fanfic #fem!reader

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month

Text

Doubt | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 4.1K

Lewis H. x reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) What happens when the news about Lewis move to Ferrari gets leaked and all eyes turn to you.

Warning: cursing? (Don't remember if there's any, but just incase be warned)

Masterlist

You've been in a relationship with Lewis for a little over two years, and it’s safe to say that they’ve been the best two years of your life. You couldn’t dream of a better boyfriend even if you tried, you don’t think you’ve shown Lewis or his fans any bad thing. You feel like you’ve always been friend;y with the fans, never responded to the hate you got for dating the 7 times world champion, and you’ve gotten a lot.

On February 1st you woke up to Lewis getting out of the bed, you blinked seeing him looking at his phone as he walked out of the room. His back is tense, you slip on Lewis’s shirt from the day before as you get out of the bed, you follow him out and see him pacing back and forth in the living room. You gave him a questioning look but he doesn’t give you any indication of what’s going on.

”-I just don’t understand how it’s already out.” Lewis says on the phone and you start to piece together what happened. “Only a few people know about the move.”

You close your eyes knowing how the media will eat this up and be all over the news analysing everything that ever happened and will happen this season, you go to the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea, you also put some food in Rosco’s bowl. It takes Lewis another 10 minutes for him to finish the call. you go to his side with the tea, he gives you a thankful smile which you return.

“Who leaked it?” You ask him knowing that this is what’s going to be on his mind the most.

”We don’t know yet.” He groans and leans back on the sofa, his head tilted up, you rub his arms and lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.

”What will you do?” You ask him softly, not taking your eyes off him.

“Not address it for now, wait a bit to see what reactions the people will have.” Lewis says and you sigh.

”Okay, well don’t overthink it, it happened, we have under a month before the season starts, so let’s enjoy the last bit of your time off, come on, what do you feel like having for breakfast?”

“Hmm, anything you are I’ll love.” Lewis says with a smile leaning over, you kiss him softly on the lips and get up to head to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

you knew this wasn’t the end of it and that the teams will look into who leaked the news of Lewis’s move from Mercedes to the media, fans also were on it and had their theories and as the last bit of vacation came, they got wilder and wilder, the thing you truly didn’t expect os for the fans to turn their sights on you. those that hated you looked like they doubled with the amount of hate you’ve had on your socials, you’re being accused of everything under the sun, you’re being bullied and shamed for your looks, for not being trustworthy, for being a gold-digger and everything else under the sun. nothing really affected you from all that hate, as long as it;s coming from people that don’t know you, you believe that it’s done out of jealousy and want for what you have, they don’t know you so why would their words affect you? doesn’t mean you like it, or that it should happen in the first place, but you do slow down on your social media presence, but you don't sit and let it consume you, you continue living your life and let them talk.

Lewis and you are in England for the last preparation before the start of the season, he’s been super busy so you spent the last few days barely seeing him, spending your time with his family and your friends in the UK. so you’re a bit surprised when you get back from shopping with his mu, to see him on the sofa with his phone.

”Hey, when did you get back?” You ask, smiling, putting your bags to the side, and walking to his side.

”Two hours ago.” He says not looking up from his phone, you hum and lean in for a kiss but he moves last second so your lips fall onto his cheek instead, and before you could react he’s standing up and heading to the bedroom.

”Lew, is something wrong?” You ask and stand up following him slowly, confused, your brain goes over everything that has happened lately trying to find something wrong that you’ve done but coming up blank.

”No.” He says simply, you frown not believing him, he’s acting cold, it’s a stark contrast to his usual self, he goes to the closet and closes the door, you stand there nt knowing ahwaz to do, he didn't kiss you, left you in the icing room, is giving you one word answers, and closed the door to change all things he doesn’t do. you sit on the bed and put your head in your hands that are resting on your knees, there’s something definitely wrong, because why is this happening out of nowhere. You’re biting your lips, stressed and lost at the same time, when he comes out he’s dressed in a hoodie and sweats with the hood up covering part of his face.

“You’re leaving?” YOu ask him standing up, again he doesn’t look at you, another unusual thing.

”Yeah.” Is all you get.

”Where?”

”Out.”

”Oh.” It takes everything in you to get your eyes not to fill up with tears, but your vice is breathier and shakier. “When will you come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well have fun.” You manage to say before he’s out of the bedroom and out of the house. Why is he acting so… so asshole-y, nothing is making sense to you right now, there’s no reason for him to be this way, no reason, and even if there was something that you’ve done, you’re the kind of couple that are completely open with one another if something is bothering one of you then you talk it out, you don't just let it come between you because well most things are misunderstandings, and you need to be patient enough and understanding enough to talk it out. You debate calling someone to ask if something happened, but you’re also not the type to ask for outer help when it comes to your relationship, to outsiders they think that you’ve never had a fight or disagreement that you’re the perfect couple. You’re really private when it comes to the dynamic and the inner workings of your relationship.

Feeling frustrated and suddenly so alone, tears gather in your eyes and l eaves in waves, you sit in front of the bed leaning your back to it, and just let them flow. Rosco comes into the room and whines, he rubs up against you making you scratch and pet him the way he likes.

”Do you know what's wrong with daddy? hm? I didn't think so.” You mutter and smile as Rosco licks your hand. “I know, I know, I love you.”

You decide to stop crying and wait for Lewis to come back, because there must be a reason for him being like that and you just need to talk it out, you convince yourself that he went out for a breather and he’ll come back soon, but as the minutes turn into hours and there’s no sign of him coming back, you change into your pyjamas and head to bed. You don’t know how long you laid there, tossing and turning, covering and uncovering yourself. you’re still awake when Lewis eventually comes back,sitting up when he gets into the bedroom, you know he expected you to be asleep from the look on his face. Your eyes are slightly red making him soften up a little, but he’s mad, he’s upset and feels betrayed and it’s eating him up.

“Lew, can we please talk?” You ask hating how small you sound, this is not you at all. you’re always confident and sure of yourself, you’re not this small upset little girl. guess when it comes to the ones you love you’re everything you’re usually aren’t.

”Later.” Again with the one word answers, he changed again in the closet closing the door behind him. You know that if he doesn’t talk to you, you won’t be able to fall asleep, so you move to the end of the bed and wait for him until he comes back out.

”I think we should talk now.” You say standing up but don't move towards him, in fear or rejection.

”I don’t think so.” He says shaking his head and shrugging, still not looking at you.

”Well, it’s not just up to you.” You say frustrated, you’re not backing down until he tells you what you’ve done wrong, or what happened. “You’re in a relationship okay, this works both ways, and you can't just ignore me for no reason because you want to.”

“No reason?” He scoffs, sounding a bit amused before he changes his tone. “No reason, there is a reason, okay.” This is the first time he’s shown you any emotion today and you can’t be happy because it;s all anger coming out of his mouth at the moment and it’s completely unwarranted.

”Then what is the reason Lewis, because surprise! I don’t read minds, and we haven’t even seen each other that much these past few days, so please tell me what happened.” You plead with Lewis in desperation, another thing that doesn’t ever happen, you never plead or beg unless playfully and in the bedroom.

“I know okay, I know, you don’t have to act anymore, you can just tell me.” Lewis says leaving you even more confused.

“Tell you what? you haven’t even said anything, how am i supposed to know what to tell you when I don’t know myself, look Lewis this isn’t like you, we never solve things this way, I don’t know what has gotten into you but just tell me.” You sounded tired at this point, no further well to keep fighting after being ignored and talked to in cryptic words.

”The news about Ferrari-“ Lewis starts before he stops himself.

”What about it? What does that have to do with-“ It dawns on you what happened, the reason he’s refusing to talk to you, the reason he’s so cold and distant, the reason for the betrayed look on his face. You couldn’t help yourself, you laugh, you laugh and you laugh.”Fucking hell LEwis, I don’t believe you right now, I truly don’t”

”Do you deny it?” He asks and you laugh again, every time you laugh you know he gets annoyed but you don’t have it in you to care, you see it now, and it’s all over his face, he’s feeling cheated, like he was stabbed in the back, just betrayed.

”Why does it matter what I say? I mean you already decided that I did it, so why does it matter if I agree or not?” You ask him, shaking your head.

”Just answer me, did you tell the media?” He asked stepping half way closer and this time you step away, you turn and head into the closet. “Where are you going? I’m not done talking about this.”

”Well, I am.” You say closing the door in his face, quickly changing in a sweat set and taking a beak pack and put a few essentials in, when you open the closet door to head out you find Lewis waiting for you, but you ignore him and take your purse from the vanity.

”Wasn’t it you that said that we have to talk?” Lewis follows you and you sigh.

”Yes, and it was also you who ignored me.” Lewis gets in your way blocking the front door. “Lewis, love, look, if you doubt me then why are we even talking, I mean you believe the conspiracy theories that the fans spouted out as if we haven’t been together for years, you clearly don’t trust me to believe that I would do something like this, you have no trust in me.”

”So you’re going to do what? Leave?” Lewis asks and you sidestep him.

”What else am I supposed to do, stay and beg you to believe me? I’m not that kind of woman Lewis and if I was you wouldn’t have been with me in the first place.” You say and open the door to leave. “Once the season starts, I’ll come back to gather my things, same with Monaco, you son’s have to see me anymore.”

You close the door in his face and leave, Lewis stands there in silence and for the first time since he was told by someone in his team that it was you that did it, he’s starting to doubt it, yes you’re one of the only people who knew about his move, but you weren’t the only one. however his fans and his team, everyone is saying it’s you.

The season starts and you’re not in the paddock, something that is clearly noticed. In the last two years you’ve been at every first and last race along with as many as you could, you’re one of the wags that are at most of the races. All this rules the rumours but they’re just rumours as of now, there’s no way for anyone to actually know, you still follow each other, but you haven’t posted since you last saw Lewis. You’ve dropped off the face of the earth, gone MIA. LEwis sen you one text saying you can stay in his London house for as long as you needed, and that was it. He wasn’t cruel, he begged you to move in with him and he wasn’t about to leave you in the streets, but he knows you haven’t been there, the security system hasn’t been deactivated once.

Bahrain comes and goes and so does Jeddah and Lewis is missing you, he won’t admit it but he misses you like crazy, he’s so used to having you by his side. You’re always there to hug him and take care of him after a race, whether you’re physically there or you’re on facetime with him. His bed is cold when he gets in, he finds himself reaching to your side of the bed to pull you close only to find you not there and every time it kills him a little. He still feels betrayed but he misses you, he loves you and it makes it so much harder for him.

It’s been over a month and you still haven’t confirmed your breakup and you haven’t unfollowed each other, but the fans have taken your absence as a sight to confirm that it was you that leaked the information.

The truth always comes out, sometimes it’s instant, sometimes it takes a while, but eventually it does come out. So here you are sitting on the sofa at your parents’s house, where you've been since you left Lewis in February. The headlines are bold and clear, someone from Mercedes heard Toto and George talking about the move and sold the news to the media for a bit of money. Suddenly you’re trending on twitter(it’s not X) and flooded with apologies and ‘I believed you’ and ‘we were wrong’, but it doesn’t matter to you, you don't care. You turned off your phone and went to go find your mum to help her with dinner.

You don’t turn on your phone the next day, or the day after or the day after that. Feeling happy with the detox you’re having. you do wonder what’s going through LEwis’s mind thought, he now knows the truth as well, he knows that you had absolutely nothing to do with it and as much as you want it to fill you with joy that he’s proven wrong, it doesn’t. You’re still miserable and hurt, you’re so hurt by him believing that it physically hurts you, you lost a big piece of you that day, the piece that you had given Lewis, the part that he promised to take care of to protect to love and he broke that promise, you thought, you believed the he’s different but he didn’t believer you in the end, he didn’t even ask you.

It’s a Wednesday night when someone rings the front door bell, you’re in your room and don’t move knowing one of your parents will answer the door.

”y/n!” Your mum calls for you, you get up from your childhood bed and go to see what she wants, walking into the living room you stop in your tracks seeing Lewis standing in front of you. You look at your mum and dad, your dad had an annoyed look on his face, you haven’t told them what had happened and they didn’t ask, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess with you turning up at their door one random day with a bag and no explanation.

”Hi.” Lewis says and takes you in, dressed in one of your lounge sets with your hair in a messy bun, but looking oh so beautiful, he missed you so much, he missed everything about you. You stand there not knowing what to do, you haven’t expected him to turn up, you haven’t been to Monaco to get your things yet, but you cleared your stuff from his London house and into a storage until just a week ago.

”Do you want him to stay?” Your dad asks and you know that if you said no, he;d kick Lewis out, no questions asked.

”No, no it’s okay.” You mutter and give your dad a small smile, your parents nod and leave the living room and go to the garden, you know for a fact it’s an effort for them not to eavesdrop on your conversation if they’re in the house.

Once they’re out you turn to look at Lewis and you see the bags under his eyes, you know he hasn’t been sleeping well, he hasn’t for a while, you could tell even from the TV. “Sit down.” You gesture for him to sit on the sofa, he follows your instructions and you sit across from him, placing your hands between your legs.

“I uh, I tried calling you.” Lewis says sounding nervous, you’re both acting like you haven’t been in a relationship for over two years and understandingly so, the last time you talked Lewis was hurt about the thought of you betraying him and now, he’s here because you never did but he betrayed you by doubting you and that hurt you and it missed him up. The guilt is eating him up, he came here knowing there’s a big chance you wouldn’t take him back and forgive him, but there’s a bit of hope inside of him and he’s willing to take that risk and try, he’d get on his knees if he had to.

”I turned my phone off a few days ago, it was all a bit too much.” You say and bite at your lip, not looking at Lewis for too long, you haven’t cried since you left him that day, but you feel like you’re about to cry now if you keep looking at him too long.

”I’m sorry about that.” Lewis says and you shrug.

”It is what it is.” You mutter, giving him a tight lipped smile. “Can’t do anything about it.”

”I could’ve but I didn’t, y/n, love, I’m so sorry, I’m truly sorry, I wish I could take it all back.” Lewis says his voice heavy and full of regret. “There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, and I should’ve stood up for you online and for my team. I feel terrible and I don’t blame you for being upset and mad at me.”

”I’m not mad.” You say tears leaving your eyes, you have to look away, your jaw clenching and unclenching, you sniff before you look back at him. “I’m hurt Lewis you doubting me is what hurts the most, I don’t care that you didn’t stand up for me online or any of that stuff, but you were so cold to me and you didn’t even talk to me about it like you usually do, you ignored me and the accused me, you were so cruel.”

”I know, and it’s my biggest regret, I don’t want to lose you, those weeks without you have been the worst and you’ve been, you've been too kind to me, you can yell if you want, curse me, hit me, tell me how messed up I am, just-just give me a chance, give us a chance.” Lewis moves to the coffee table so he’s close to you and there's no escaping his eyes now, the ones you missed so much the last few weeks. “Don;t forgive me yet, wait until I’ve earned it, but don’t shut me out, I’d do anything you want, apologise a hundred times if you want just please.”

“I don’t know Lewis, just as you felt betrayed when you thought I leaked it, I feel betrayed because of how you were.” You say pushing your tears away with the back of your hand, your lips red from all the biting you were doing to not sob. “I love you with all of my heart, but I still feel so hurt, it physically pains me to know you;d think of me like that, that I’d be capable of betraying your trust in me.”

”It was a moment of weakness, believe me darling, it would never ever happen again, never, I love you so much and being away from you is much worse than anything I’ve even been through.” Lewis says and takes your hand in both of his, they’re warm and conferring, you take in the details of his tattoos, the ones you usually take when you’re lost in thought or board, the ones that hold you and pull you close, the ones that pull you for randomly dancing because he just felt like it, the ones you missed so much. You stay silent lost in thought, you know you still love Lewis and you want to get back with him, but something like this can’t be forgotten easily. Lewis gets on his knees moving even closer to you. “I’m begging you my love please, just give us a chance, and if at any point you feel like you can’t forgive me then that’s it, I’ll let you go, no matter what I feel.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his, your hand cupping his cheek, feeling his beard, his skin, feeling him.

“Okay.” You breath, your voice is barely a whisper, Lewis thinks he may have misheard or imagined it. “Okay, let’s try to move on from this, but, but it’ll take time for both of us to heal.”

”I know, and I’ll wait for you and help you heal, as much time as you need.” Lewis pulls away to kiss your forehead feeling like a kiss on the lips might be too much right now. “Can I hug you?”

”Please.” Lewis stands up pulling you in for a much needed hug, you stand there for a long time, not saying anything just holding each other. Basking in the comfort of finlay being in each other’s arms again, you’re home.

It takes a while for things to get back how it was, you still were offline, and there has been no sightings of you with Lewis anywhere, everyone assumed that your relationship has ended and that you’ve both went your separate ways, but you’ve been working on your relationship and on yourselves, taking all the time you needed to heal and come out stronger than you were before.

So it takes everyone by surprise when you turn up to the paddock in Monaco hand in hand with Lewis, the fans go crazy with the news, the true ones over the roof with happiness. You do have to admit that you missed the paddock and the excitement and the rush that comes with it. You and Lewis aren’t big on PDA, but pictures of you two holding hands, hugging and sharing a couple kisses are all over the internet by the time the weekend comes to an end.

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