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hoezhatelola · 8 months

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“GOING BACK THERE TONIGHT, AND YOU KNOW WHAT’S ON MY MIND”

duke dennis x fem! reader

this post contains swearing, smut, oral (male receiving, praise, bits of degrading, choking, dom!duke, sub!reader

when duke comes back needy from a vacation with his friends, in which the whole time he couldn’t help but miss you while fantasizing about burying himself deep inside you, you greet him at the door with a warm smile, and he can’t help but provide you with what you’ve both been waiting for ;)

a/n: i did not proofread this!

duke’s family didn’t particularly like you, and you never entirely knew why. you were always careful to be especially respectful and helpful at any holidays or events. for the past couple months, they’ve refrained from inviting you to anything of the sort, which- having family issues of your own, did, admittedly, hurt. it did put a dent in your relationship with duke, however, the two of you loved each other intensely, and that was enough to get through anything.

you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t touch yourself at night, pretending your fingers were his, pretending that he was there next to you, your insides aching for his time and attention. after all, a month long trip away from your boyfriend would affect anyone.

duke wasn’t shy about admitting that he looked at pictures of you, videos, and even listened to your audio messages- anything to get him to his climax while you were hundreds of miles away.

tonight was the night he’d finally return, your heart fluttering at the excitement of him knocking on the door of your shared apartment and engulfing you in the warmest of hugs. you cleaned up nicely for him, and had a warm meal prepared as well. your body was adorned in cute lace panties and one of his giant t-shirts, you were excited to greet him but you’d rather be comfortable in this case.

11:42 pm now hit, your eyes droopy as you waited on the couch, desperately fighting sleep and finding ways to stay occupied such as television, makeup, and writing. a loud knock and a gruff, tired sigh could be heard outside your door, to which you jumped upwards and bolted towards the entrance.

your fingers delicately undid the lock, and with a quick pull the door was open. god, how does he always look so good? you thought to yourself. he was slightly out of breath from walking and carrying the heavy luggages, so you assumed the elevators were broken once again. he wore a white t-shirt and red cargo sweat-shorts, effortlessly comfortable.

you looked up at him and his eyes met yours, a wide grin, which flashed his grillz, spreading across his face. he dropped his luggage in the doorway and slammed the door behind him, scooping your figure hastily into his arms. he squeezed you so tightly your arms were stuck under his.

“b-baby i can’t hug you back,” you laughed, “my arms.” he continued to hold you silently, a sniffle coming from him. duke set you down for a moment and looked down at you, his hands traveling from your waist up to your neck, and cupping your cheek.

“i missed you so so much, beautiful” he said into your neck, hugging you once more and repeatedly peppering kisses onto your lips, cheeks, forehead, and neck.

“aww, baby i missed you too.” you said in response, running your hand up and down his back to comfort him. “don’t cry, it’s okay, i’m here” you sighed against his chest, and you continued to embrace each other for another moment.

“now come eat,” you said, “the foods gonna get cold.” you turned around to head towards the small kitchen when a hand grabbed your wrist and the other snaked around your waist, duke pulling you into his chest with your back facing him. his head nuzzled into your neck, and his teeth nibbled the edge of your ear.

“don’t act like you haven’t been dying for me too, hm? i can already tell…” his hand traveled down to your crotch, snaking between your thighs. “how wet you are,” he finished his sentence by slipping his fingers into your panties, being met with a warm wetness.

“mmmhm,” you moaned lightly. part of you wanted him to eat, especially with the amount of effort you put into his meal. the other part of you couldn’t deny the relief you felt of his skilled fingertips swirling circles around your needy clit. your knees began to weaken as he picked up the pace.

“it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” he inquired, not expecting an actual response. duke lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom bridal style as the two of you passionately kissed. he set you onto the bed and a hand wrapped around your neck, the other slowly sliding into your pussy.

“that’s it, mama. squeeze my fingers, mhm.” he groaned, and you mewled in response, tightening up around him even more. he began to pump his fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot every single time. you began to feel that coil building, preparing to snap.

“i-i’m gonna..” you couldn’t even form coherent sentences as his long fingers filled you up as you’ve been aching for. the mere thought of you orgasming on his fingers for only him to see drove him crazy and brought you a feeling of intense bliss.

“gonna cum for me, baby? hm? gonna ask my permission?” he laughed in your ear, his deep voice driving you over the edge. he enjoyed watching you squirm hopelessly underneath him, legs shaking in pleasure and wide eyes begging to cum on his hands.

“pl-please can i.. auhh!” you moaned out, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit in addition to his fingers working inside of you. the stimulation was becoming overwhelming, but every part of you wanted his cock stroking your insides.

“can you.. what?” he mocked you by making his voice a slightly higher pitch and chuckling lowly. his chain tickled the crook of your neck and his teeth played with the edge of your jaw. “hmm? say it for me, mama. i know you can..”

his words of encouragement brought you even closer, your vision becoming blurred. suddenly, he removed his fingers from your throbbing pussy, causing you to snap your eyes open and furrow your brows. “the fuck was that for?”

he took your jaw in your hand, holding you firm to look at him. “watch your fucking mouth, and sit up.” he ordered, you wanted so desperately to cum, however you knew he’d make you wait after the display of your bad attitude.

you sat up and did as he told, and before you knew it his long dick was displayed in front of your eyes. you spit on it before wrapping a hand around it and beginning to pump it up and down. he licked his lips as you slapped it on your tongue, quickly putting it into your mouth. you swirled your tongue around it and began to suck at the tip. “that’s my good girl. look up at me.”

you looked up at him and locked eyes as you took the entirety of it into your mouth. his tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat, and you hollowed your cheeks as saliva dripped down your face. you looked up at duke with wide, teary eyes, earning a groan from him. “fuuuck, yes baby..”

duke spit on your face and bobbed your head up and down using his large hands. the room was filled with lewd sounds of gagging and the pool in your panties continued to grow. “good fucking girl,” he grunted as you went faster. you could feel his dick tensing up inside of your warm, wet mouth.

he pulled you off of him and caressed your wet, puffy lips with his thumb. “my pretty girl..” he said, and you nodded hastily in response. you were like a puppy, melting into his touch and hooking onto his every single word. duke paid special attention to every feature on your face in this moment… your cheeks salty with tears, your eyes pink, wide, and watery, your mascara smeared on your face, and your puffy lips covered in his milky and clear pre-cum.

he liked you this way the best- makeup destroyed, pussy throbbing to be touched and satisfied, tears running down your face, and your mind a blur for only him. it got him excited just thinking about fucking you stupid.

he always loved missionary with you, because he could suck on your tits as they bounced in his face, look you in your beautiful eyes, and fuck you just how you liked it all at the same time. however, this time was different. you were longing to lay on your stomach, face down and ass up, and let him take complete control by making you his complete, fucked silly, slut.

you laid down on your stomach and positioned yourself accordingly. duke came behind you and grabbed your hip with one hand, pinning your hands behind your back with the other. “you want this dick, mama?” he asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

“yes, please give it to me.” you begged, wiggling your ass against his abs as he positioned himself at your entrance and chuckled.

“patience, baby..” he said in his deep voice, slowly sliding all eight inches in. “you okay?” he asked, and you looked back at him with pleading eyes.

“im okay, it stings like usual.” you replied, and he nodded intently. communication was always crucial between the two of you. he asked to start moving, and after a moment of adjusting you confirmed it was okay.

each slow stroke was otherworldly to you. duke knew your spots so well, and he knew just how to get you crying for more. he pulled fistfuls of your hair for you to look back at him as he picked up the pace.

he looks so handsome, you thought to yourself.

his brows were gently furrowed as he looked directly up at the ceiling with closed eyes, biting his lips and grabbing the fat of your ass. “mmm, you’re so tight for me..” the squelching of your pussy and the sound of his balls hitting your skin filled the room, along with your moans of course.

“mmmhmmm, auuhhh. oh my-fuck..” you were particularly vocal this time, finally being fulfilled after waiting for so long. you bit your lip so hard that a drop of blood fell, and you backed up onto his dick as he fucked you harder and harder.

“i love it when you do that, you’re gonna make me cum soon…” he groaned, standing still and allowing you to do the work. you continue to back up onto him, loud cries of his name filling the room. “and remember what i said earlier, mama.” he added on, and your confusion turned into stubbornness.

“i don’t have to ask you to cum.” you emphasized his part in that sentence and he stopped immediately, holding your hips still with one hand, and using the other to forcefully pull you up so that your back was directly against his chest. dick still inside of you, his hand wrapped around his neck and gave it a harsh squeeze. your brows scrunched in response and your pussy tightened around him at the feeling of his hands slightly cutting off your oxygen.

duke ignored the squeeze of you around him and pulled your hair back to look him in the eyes, still choking you with his hand. “the fuck you say?” he asked, and he knew you liked the way he took control.

“mm-nothing.” you struggled to speak through your lack of oxygen. he loosened the grip on your neck and shoved two fingers into your mouth, causing you to gag repeatedly while holding his eye contact.

“that’s what i fucking thought. lay down.” he said, and you did so. he slowly slid himself in and started fucking you deeply at a quick pace, you could feel him nearing his end as his strokes became more and more sloppy.

your legs began to shake as your climax neared. “mmh- c-can i cu-cum? please!” you stuttered, burying your face in the pillow. you could feel your cheeks heating up and your body coming closer and closer to finishing.

duke knew you so well, he didn’t pick up the pace and destroy your wave of pleasure. he kept at it directly, and brought a hand down to rub circles on your clit. “yes, mama. cum with me, cum on this dick.” he groaned, smacking your ass.

you came undone on his dick, your legs shaking and pussy squeezing repeatedly. your juices dripped down his penis and your thighs, and his hot nut shot up deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. he pulled out and watched as your pussy squeezed around nothing and his sperm leaked out of you. he used his fingers to push it back inside, collapsing next to you on the bed.

duke got up to give you water, a gentle massage, and cleaned you up before hugging you into his chest. he breathed in the smell of the shampoo in your hair, playing with your locks. you sighed into his neck, enjoying the refreshing smell of his cologne.

“you still hungry?” you inquired with a chuckle, he looked down at you with incredibly dreamy eyes, getting lost in yours.

“yea.. but fuck it.” he replied and closed his eyes, nuzzling in closer to you.

“baby i made a whole meal for you and i know you’re hungry.” you rubbed circles on his neck gently, and he loved the feeling of your nails gently dragging along his skin.

he grabbed your leg and put it on top of him, wrapping the blanket around the two of you and pulling you closer. “and?”

“aaaand..” you hummed, smiling into his chest warmly. “go eat if you’re hungry i know the flight was long.” he sunk further into your touch and shook his head, the sound of your voice in his ear soothing every single thought on his mind.

“and miss this? nah. not for the world.”

#duke dennis #duke dennis amp #duke dennis x reader #duke dennis x fem!reader #duke dennis smut #duke dennis is my man #lol #too lazy to put more tags #twitch streamer #smut #i love him i love him i love him i love him #duke dennis imagine #duke dennis fan fiction #fine black men

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year

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sleepy-head; pedro pascal.

a/n: fluffy falling asleep on set idk, not edited, no warnings. enjoy sweet friends

i stood lopsidedly- left knee bent, hand propped on my waist, and backpack slouched off my shoulder. my head hung low, eyes boring a deep hole into the dirty ground. i fluttered my lashes, in a lane attempt to keep them wide open. with a slight sway to the side, i worried i was going to completely pass out, right then and there.

then, the director yelled out a sharp, clear, "cut!"

i flinched, back straightening like the edge of a knife. i swear i heard something crack in my bones. i tugged the backpack up my shoulder and glanced around me. i met bella's eyes and they made a face, "you alright?"

i shook my head lightly, awakening my face, "tired." i reached an arm into the sky and stretched.

bella approached me, letting their own backpack slide down their shoulder and into their hand. "dude, me, too. i'm ready for today to be over."

"unfortunately," we fell into step off set, "we have a few more hours to go."

"fortunately," they added, mocking my tone, "we have exactly one hour until we have to be back right here. i am going to stuff my face with craft services."

bella's steps grew quicker as they started to bee-line for the food table. "wanna come?" bella offered.

i waved her off, "if i eat anything, i'm going to pass out."

they snorted, "go find a hole to take a nap in."

i managed a small chuckle at the response. maybe that was actually a really good idea. i set my book bag on the prop table; my trailer was a fifteen minute golf-cart ride from here. if i hopped on one right now, i have 30 minutes before i needed to get back on set. not to mention the fact that i needed to be back even earlier for hair and makeup touch ups, and notes from the director. that left maybe fifteen minutes for a nap.

but if i curled up in a corner somewhere, i'd have a good 40 minutes.

i shrugged off my jacket, peering around the set. i met eyes with people every now and again, offered sleep-ridden smiles in their direction. eventually, i settled on the couch in the corner of the room, parallel to a few chairs. it was a small resting place meant for guests, cast and crew members. i headed towards it with a heavy sigh. my feet hurt so bad.

as i approached, i opened my phone up and set a timer for thirty minutes. just in case. i plopped down onto the couch, slipped off my costume combat boots, and curled up in a ball. with my jacket lain across my body, my eyes shut as soon as my head hit the arm rest.

the noises slowly faded from my hearing, becoming muted murmurs in my distant, fuzzy memory. it was one of those weird naps, where i wasn't really asleep, but i definitely was not conscious. i felt my breathing even, a comfortable, monotonous rhythm circulating my system.

i don't know how long passed, but i jutted awake with a shocking pop of open eyes. my shoulders flinched a bit, and i sucked in a breath. i rubbed at my eyes gently, trying not to disturb the makeup there, and glanced around me.

bella had joined me on the couch, sitting at my feet with a bag of chips in their clutches. they were humming to themselves, watching tiktok's on their phone. after registering her presence, i looked ahead, where pedro was sitting, also eating a bag of chips and watching videos on his phone.

i shuffled a bit, lifting myself onto my seat, leg still curled up, beneath me. bella's snapped towards me, "good morning, sunshine. did you have a nice sleep?"

i rubbed my cheeks with either palms, then rested my head in my hands. "oh, god. that felt good, actually." lies.

bella gave me a thumbs up before going back to their phone. they were a human of few words. a silly, adorable human.

i glanced forward again and met pedro's eyes. his attention was lifted from his phone to me, now. he offered a sweet smile. "you doing okay?"

i shrugged, head pounding with exhaustion and restless napping. "just really tired."

my eyes flickered to my left as bella stood, engrossed in technology, and walked off to who knows where. i looked back to pedro.

he jutted his bottom lip slightly, a sympathetic expression. "i'm sorry," he glanced back at his phone, "you've still got thirty five minutes until we've gotta get back. why don't you lay down again?"

"it's okay," i shut the alarm off on my phone. "i'll be fine. this couch isn't comfortable, anyways."

pedro stood slowly, crossing the distance between us, and sat beside me. "no, you're right. this shit sucks," he laughed lamely.

i giggled at his words, "told you so."

pedro hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the furniture. then, he looked down at his lap. pedro set his chips and phone down beside him, shrugged off his jacket, and balled it up in his lap.

"here," he waved lazily, "lay your head down."

i eyed the make-shift pillow. was that going to be weird? i was so tired, i couldn't care less about nicety rules with my coworkers.

i smiled sleepily at him, lowering my head into his lap, "thank you," i murmured.

he rested his right arm across the back of the couch, and balanced his phone on the arm rest, going back to whatever he was doing. "no worries, sugar. i'll wake you when it's time."

i was beyond tired- but i didn't not notice the little butterfly wing that fluttered in my stomach when he called me that.

i passed out this time, though, completely snoozing away in dream-land, until i felt a strong hand clasp my shoulder and gently shake. his touch was warm, seeping through my costume and onto my skin like the gentle lick of a flame. pedro's voice spoke carefully close to my ear, "y/n? hermosa? they're calling us back to set."

i breathed deeply, eyes fluttering open. the first thing i saw were a pair of deep, dark chocolate eyes, shining golden under some of the set lights. my lips curled into a lazy smile, involuntarily. i sat up, feeling a hand softly on my back, supporting me.

"thanks for that," i stretched. "it helped a lot."

pedro's hands dropped into his lap, "i'm really glad." he went to say something else, but one of the makeup artists was approaching us, his large makeup bin in tow.

"y/n, i don't know what you did, but i need to fix that," sebastian waved a hand around my face with a disgusted look.

pedro and i shared a laugh. "i'm sorry, seb. thanks again, pedro."

he nodded, and waved as i got up and followed sebastian to a chair and vanity set up. i settled into the seat, eyes opened a little wider from the rest i'd gotten. as sebastian went to work on my face, my eyes followed pedro's reflection in the mirror. he stood from the couch, brushed his hands off on his pants, like they were sweaty or something. he mumbled something to himself, took a deep breath, and started his way towards set.

i scoffed out a short laugh. sebastian drew his hand back, brows furrowed, "what?"

i shook my head, "nothing."

pedro was kinda hot.

—

two weeks later.

i hugged my legs to my chest, apple of my cheek rested upon the crevice of my knee. a soft scratching noise emitted from the stick that i was dragging across the ground. i followed it in a loop with my eyes until i finished the little stick figure i was drawing.

bella's phone volume lifting snapped me out of my daze. i looked to them, watched them laugh at some video.

"y/n!" they stepped towards me, flipping their phone screen to face me, "we have to do this."

i watched the dance video she showed me, and groaned when it ended. "noooooo," i shoved my forehead against my knees. "i can't dance. you know this."

bella shrugged me off, "i don't care. we're doing it later."

"fine," i gave in. it didn't take much to sway my opinion. the videos bella always made me do with them were fun. i looked forward to the days she'd ask me to make them.

she was my little friend.

pedro interjected, "what is it?"

bella showed him, "dance video were gonna make. i'd invite you, peepaw, but i think you'd break a hip."

i snorted, covering my grinning mouth with my hand. pedro glared at me, playfully flipping both of us off. "whatever. i didn't wanna be a part of it anyways."

my eyes lingered as on his hand as it dropped to his side. his palms were ginormous, fingers long and slender. pedro wasn't excessively fit, but there were still veins snaking beneath his skin.

bella cleared their throat, kicking my shoe gently. "hello? earth to y/n?"

my glazed eyes shut, and i shook my head of the moment. "what? sorry?"

"nevermind. it doesn't matter. are you that tired?" bella plopped down onto the step beside me.

i rubbed my eye slightly, a clear sign that i was exhausted. maybe that's why my mind kept wandering... i nodded in confirmation to bella's question.

pedro sat criss-cross in front of us. he shrugged off his backpack and jacket. "it's been a long week. but we're almost done, honey. just hang in there."

i smiled kindly at his encouragement. "yeah, then two days off, right? i'm so looking forward to that."

pedro and bella nodded. my latter co-star unlocked their phone again, "me, too."they were over the conversation. person of few words, like i said.

pedro glanced at them as their phone volume rang through the beat of silence. he met my eyes and rolled his playfully. i giggled.

pedro leaned back on his palms, head dipping back as he admired the ceiling of the set room we were in. a comfortable silence succumbed us.

i shoved my head into my knees again, letting my eyes fall shut. my breathing became automatic as i entered a dismal state of being.

after a few moments, i felt a hand wrap it's fingers around my wrist. pedro squeezed, tugging my arm from the hold around my legs. i lifted my head, meeting his very closely countered gaze. he was on his knees before me. "yeah?"

pedro pointed beside me, where his jacket was wrapped around his book bag in a faux-pillowed manner. "lay your head down, sugar."

my chest inflated, a rush of heat kissing my cheeks. "o-okay. thanks."

pedro let go of my wrist as i turned, curling into a ball on my side. his backpack felt comfortable beneath my head. i passed out quickly. i woke up, probably fifteen minutes later, to a set of voices sharing a muted conversation, short whispers in the dim light.

"dude, you look so creepy," bella hissed.

pedro huffed out a reply, "shut up."

bella quickly countered with, "you're very openly staring a hole into her face! how can i not comment on that?"

i heard a scuffle as pedro probably adjusted his seating. "i can't help. she's very pretty."

bella awed, quite loudly. pedro shushed her quickly. "that's so cute. wait- do you have, like, a thing for her? wait, you do! oh, my god-"

"i'm walking away now," another shuffle as pedro stood. "forget this ever happened."

"pedro, no! come back!" bella stood, too, following after him.

my eyes slowly opened, a humiliatingly ginormous grin on my mouth. i covered my face with my hands. i was blushing.

okay, yeah there was something there.

–

two weeks later.

i groaned loudly, twisting my pillow around beneath my head for the thousandth time. i felt tears prickle at the back of my exhausted eyes, and a frustrated scream lodge itself in my throat. sniffling furiously, i took short, quick breaths.

for someone who was always falling asleep on set, i sure as hell had a difficult time doing so in my own damn bed.

i sat up, clutching the covers around my bare shoulders. i had shed my clothes a while ago, during some strange hot flash. but now i was shivering, skin lingered with warm goosebumps. i think i had a fever.

grabbing my phone, i checked the time. 3:45am. i had to be up at 6am to film something with bella. i held down the button and my flashlight lit up my room. my phone plopped onto the bed as i stood. i tugged a hoodie on and some pants before quickly hitting the light switch. my eyes screamed and head pounded from the brightness. i grabbed my phone again and turned off the flashlight.

i rummaged around in the medicine cabinet above my tiny sink. there was a thing of ibuprofen, and my hands shook as i tore it open, popping a few pills. i draw swallowed and they scratched my already sore throat. there was not thermometer, however.

i moved quietly, out of my trailer, the door squeaking on the hinges a little too loud. there were a few crew members littering the makeshift streets. there was probably a night shoot happening. i never paid attention to the schedule unless it pertained to me.

the medical tent was a good fifteen minute golf cart ride, but there were none stationed where they normally would. i would just have to walk.

my feet padded against the pavement, slippers scuffing harshly. i drug my fingers against other trailers for support, but when the row of buildings came to an end, i had to hold myself up. i felt like i was going to pass out- everything ached, including my stomach. i wanted to fall into the pavement, curl into a decrepit ball, and die there.

my arms latched around my body, holding me together tightly. i was certain my eyes were completely shut. maybe i was even going in the opposite direction. i didn't know how far i had walked when i ran into someone's solid chest.

hands clutched at my shoulders, rushed, worried words gently coaxing my eyes open. "y/n, cariño? are you okay? what's wrong? y/n, what's wrong? cmon, talk to me, sugar."

my eyes flitted, somehow peeling themselves open. pedro's furrowed brows were the first thing i noticed, and his rambling lips the next. i sighed, pushing my body into his clothes. he took hold of my weight as my knees gave out a bit more.

he wrapped one arm around my back, fingers wrapped around my bicep. his other came to my forehead. "jesus, you're burning up. here-"

my stomach turned as he lifted me up in his arms, temperature hand scooping up my legs. "where are we going?" i slurred, on the precipice of passing out.

"medical tent, sugar. need to get you checked out," pedro whispered, lips close to my ear.

"i feel tired."

"that's okay," he soothed, "go to sleep. it'll be okay. i've gotchu, hermosa."

my head lolled back, resting on his shoulder, as i gave in to the darkness.

when i woke up, i was laying in a hospital bed, papery sheets wrapped tightly around my lower body. my left arm flinched, and i felt wires tug at my skin. on my body was a hospital gown, an iv, and a knit blanket overtop of the issued ones. then, my eyes flittered around the room, narrowed in the bright, fluorescent lighting that covered me.

pedro.

he was in the chair beside my bed, slid down enough that his head could rest on the back of it. his legs were spread out, slumped from his state of sleep. pedro's lips were parted slightly as his even breaths pulled in and out, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

i settled for a second, admiring how peaceful he looked. but, then the beeping of the machines next to me broke me out of my trance. i glanced around again, finding the bed's remote, and raised the head of it so i could sit up properly. pedro shuffled in the chair, groaning as his eyes popped open.

he rubbed at his sockets, sliding back up in his seat. "oh, you're awake," pedro spoke, voice raspy from sleep. okay, that was hot.

i set down the remote, hands clasping each other in my lap. "i just woke up. so, was my fever that bad?"

"it was 104, y/n," pedro leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. "i took you to the medical tent, they took your temp, and then shoved you into the ambulance. i was barely able to hop in before they shut the doors and drove away."

i took a shaky breath. i felt a million times better than i had- but i was still sick. i could tell by the raspiness of my breathing, the ache in my bones. "is it covid? where's your mask? you shouldn't be here-"

"hermosa," he clasped a large hand around my own, "i'm not going anywhere. and it's not covid. just a bad case of the flu."

i twisted my fingers through his. "thank god. what time is it even? how long was i out?"

pedro laughed shortly, "it's actually sunday. you've been in an out of consciousness for a day and a half. but they think you can go home tomorrow."

"shit," i sat up a bit, "what about the show? shouldn't you be filming?"

pedro braced a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed. "don't even dare think about getting up. they've shut down set for the rest of the week to do some cleaning. just relax, cariño."

i huffed, but relaxed back into the bed. pedro squeezed my hand twice. my other hand balled up a fistful of the knit blanket. it was incredibly soft. pedro watched as i stuck my fingers through its holes, fiddling with it anxiously.

"who's blanket is this, anyways?" i asked.

the corner of his lips lifted into his cheeks, "mine. it was over my shoulder when you passed out in my arms. i accidentally brought it with us and just figured you could use it."

i smiled sweetly at him, "thanks. what were you doing with it on set? is it a prop?"

"hermosa, you ask an incredible amount of questions," he hung his head. "but, i thought that you were going to be shooting with us last night. got the schedule mixed up. i brought it for you."

the blood rushed to my cheeks. i wanted to ask why, but i already knew why. for when i fell asleep. i squeezed his hand twice and we shared an ardent gaze.

–

one week later.

"hey, cariño, you feeling better?"

it was my first day back on set since i had been sick. it was a 12 hour schedule, of course, and i was feeling exhausted. i was sitting up against a wall, one leg stretched out before me, and the other curved against my body. pedro squatted before me, leaning in close with a concerned expression.

i brushed my hair behind my ear, "yeah, i'm doing alright. sleepy, as per usual."

pedro chuckled, "figured as much."

"hey, you wouldn't happen to have that blanket, would ya?" i joked, nudging his foot with my own.

"actually..."

pedro pushed up off his knees, and i watched him round the corner, towards where our set chairs were. i couldn't see him anymore. i waited two minutes, before he came back around the corner, cradling that red knit blanket.

he squatted down again, and dropped onto his knees. pedro lay the blanket out over me lovingly. i blushed deeply, engulfed in warmth, and the sweet smell of his cologne.

"wow, uh...thanks," i grinned.

pedro settled against the wall, beside me. "no worries, hermosa."

a beat of silence passed. i wrestled with my thoughts. then, i made a decision and opened the blanket, setting it across his lap. "come on," i offered.

pedro pushed closer, shoulder pressing against mine, as the blanket covered both of us. "is this uncomfortable, though? it's kinda small-"

i bravely took his arm and wrapped it around my shoulder. he came closer, if at all possible. the blanket easily covered us both, now. "there. we made it work."

pedro looked down at me, a cheeky smile on his lips. his eyes were tired, fit with dark bags. i looked away, only to grab my phone and set an alarm. "twenty minutes okay?" i spoke softly.

pedro nodded, "okay."

i curled up into his side, placing my head in the crevice of his shoulder. i felt the weight of his own head as he rested it overtop my own.

my phone woke us twenty minutes later, shocking my system with a rapid heart rate and wide, alarmed eyes. pedro pulled away, sadly, arms stretching above his head. my body was colder in the spots he had touched, like a ghost linger there now.

"feel better?" i yawned into my palm.

pedro rubbed his sleepy eyes. "actually, yes, i do. i get why you do that so much. might have to go it more. although, i'm sure i won't look half as pretty as you do during it."

no words formed in my throat. my mind went blank, as my face heated up. i just stared at him, and i'm sure my eyes were wide, and my smile cheeky.

pedro tilted his head curiously, "you're beautiful, cariño."

i licked my bottom lip, as if lubrication would help the words come easier. "uh- than. thanks you. thank. you."

pedro just admired me for a moment before he reached forward and brushed hair behind my ear. his fingers lingered on my cheek, where he brushed his thumb over the apple of my face. he went to say something else, when a loud voice interrupted us.

"alright, people. let's get this wrapped up!" the director.

we dissipated, disappointed that the moment ended.

–

one month later.

"no, we have to match," i whined to bella, adjusting the santa hat on my head carefully.

they rolled their eyes at my reflection with the matching hat in their hands. "ugh, why?"

"because you always make me do these tiktok's and shit with you. you have to do something for me for once," i argued.

bella lazily tugged the hat on, hands falling flat at their sides. "happy?"

i squealed and clapped my hands together in excitement. "yes! oh, my gosh, so cute!"

bella wore a pair of flannel pj bottoms, red and green, with a green shirt that said, 'the humbug one.' i had on the same bottoms, but with a matching red shirt with the words, 'the jolly one.'

i had bella for secret santa, and i gifted them with the matching pjs. they complained when they unwrapped a large box and saw the pjs inside. little did they know, i had another, much nicer present. but, this was an added bonus just for my amusement.

the cast and crew christmas party was happening down at craft services. i had helped decorate yesterday, decking out the usually bland space with lights, strands of garland, and plenty of faux snow.

"cmon, we don't want to be late," i rushed bella with the wave of my hand.

they rolled their eyes again, but led us out of the trailer anyways. i knew bella secretly enjoyed this. they were like my little sibling.

as we approached craft services, christmas music tuned into our ears, along with the cherry murmur of cast and crew members mingling over cups of eggnog. my steps became a little lighter as i took it all in. everyone was dressed up in pjs or strange costumes, like the grinch or a christmas tree. i just knew my camera roll would be full after this.

bella spotted nico in the crowd and quickly ditched me for her. they looked back at me for a split second and stuck their tongue out, "see you later, loser."

i scoffed loudly, "what the hell!"

left in the dust, i crossed my arms and stepped over my own halted feet forward. i ran into sebastian first, who was nursing a very large sugar cookie cocktail.

"hello, gorgeous," he shook the bell on the end of my hat.

"hi, seb," i giggled. "that looks yummy."

"here, i'll get you one!" he offered enthusiastically, turning towards the table beside us.

my eyes rolled over his shoulder, where i noticed pedro was standing at the other end of the table with nick. pedro wore this ugly christmas sweater, mandelorian themed, with a pair of jeans. he had his glasses on, too, a small detail that made my stomach flutter. pedro had a whiskey glass in his left hand, and his right hung loosely in his front pocket. he was talking gently, grinning at whatever they were talking about. i wonder who his secret santa was.

my eyes lingered a second longer before sebastian popped back up in front of me. he held out a cocktail. i smiled, "thank you so much. hey, who'd you get for the secret santa thing?"

sebastian took a small sip of his drink, "murray bartlett. got him this blue scarf and glove set. looks gorgeous with his eyes."

i nodded, eyes flickering between him and pedro. a distant look, i'm sure, crossed my face. "oh, awesome. and who had you?"

sebastian tried to meet my eyes, but they focused in on pedro. he turned slightly, following my gaze. "0h, my god," he laughed. "knew it."

i wasn't paying attention. "who?"

sebastian's reply was laughed, "someone from the camera crew- girl, you're down so bad."

"uh-huh," i rolled my bottom lip between my teeth.

pedro's head fell back as he laughed, and when he straightened it, his eyes finally met mine. his smile widened, if at all possible, as he seemed to withdraw from the conversation and enter a space, encased with only me.

nick looked my way, brows furrowed with confusion. when he saw me, his brows then raised in understanding. he and sebastian shared an annoyed, humored look.

sebastian's hand touched my back, and he gently shoved me forward. my feet, which had been aching to make that journey forward, caught themselves and continued. nick patted pedro's shoulder lovingly, muttering some goodbye, and he walked away.

as i settled in front of pedro, a shiver rippled down my back. i let out a breathy, "hey."

pedro looked utterly taken, and he tilted his chin down, "hermosa."

"so," i swayed side to side slightly, grasping at some topic, "who had you for secret santa?"

pedro replied, "nick. got me some whiskey and this really nice jacket."

"oh, awesome," i finally took my eyes off his, nodding at my feet. but, like magnets, we met again.

"who'd you have?" pedro swung his elbow, lightly jabbing me.

i found bella in the crowd and pointed towards them. "bella. made them wear these stupid pajamas with me. i haven't given them the actual gift, which is a ginormous gift basket with all their favorite snacks and stuff like that."

pedro whistled, "damn, cariño. now i'm kinda wishing you were my secret santa."

"ha," i laughed, "yeah, well i haven't gotten anything yet, so i'm not going to be gifting anybody else...that's a lie, i'll make you a gift basket."

pedro said, "no, no, no," and braced his hand on my bicep. it was warm, like i remembered, "don't worry about that. your secret santa is just...waiting, hermosa. for the right moment."

i tilted my head, "waiting? what? how do you...oh."

pedro's smile was knowing. his hand stayed on my arm, sliding down my forearm, to my fingers. he intertwined them with his own. "i think this moment feels right. cmon."

he turned to stand beside me. with a gentle tug of my hand, we moved forward, away from the party, and to his trailer.

"are you going to kill me?" i joked.

pedro shook his head, laughing, "no, i promise. i just-" he held the door open, "wanted this to be for just us."

i had the smallest inclination, but i tried not to get my hopes up. my chest inflated anyways, full of thrill.

when we stepped inside, pedro grabbed a wrapped present from the counter. "this is the first present."

"the first? wow. you didn't-"

"don't start with that, hermosa,” he shushed me, and motioned to the couch. “just open it.”

i pressed my lips together, a grin growing on my face. “okay.”

i took a seat with him on the couch and set the present on my lap. my fingers shook slightly as i began to peel off the christmas wrapping paper. “oh, i like the little cats,” i laughed as i stopped to admire the various patterned animal on the paper.

pedro nodded, “i knew you would.”

my heart was melting.

i peeled more of the paper away, revealing a large, knit blanket. “you didn’t!” i gasped, shaking off the paper. “i hate you!”

pedro laughed as i quickly started tearing off the packaging. i unrolled the blanket, and wrapped it around my shoulders, basking in the softness.

“oh, i did,” he remarked.

i sighed in the embrace of the blanket, “it’s so warm, i could fall asleep right here.”

“why are you always so tired?” pedro shook my shoulders crazily, teasing me.

i laughed, and situated some of the blanket on his lap. “i don’t know! i just am, i guess.”

“worries me,” he rubbed a hand over the blanket that was on my thigh.

i shifted under his touch, nervous again. “well, thank you for this.”

“okay, next present,” pedro clapped his hands together.

he reached for a smaller square, wrapped in the same paper, on the coffee table. i tilted my head, exasperated by his kind favors. “thank you, pedro.”

“just open it already.”

i did as he asked. under the paper was a picture collage, with a few different pictures of us. the day i first fell asleep with my head in his lap; the day i overheard him and bella talking about me; him by side at the hospital, holding my hand; the time we fell asleep under the blanket together.

i sucked in a gasp of breath, “wow! who took all of these?”

pedro laughed, “bella.”

i rolled my eyes in response. “should’ve known. this is so sweet. i can’t wait to hang it up at home.”

pedro hesitated, before laying out some careful wording, “i wanted you to have these pictures because they’re sweet, yes. but, hermosa, i wanted you to be able to see me falling in love with you. i didn’t notice it at first, until bella sent me these pictures last week. but, i know now- it’s there.”

i met his eyes, my own vision watery from admiration. i set the frame down and took his hand in my own, “im so happy right now. i don’t think you’re ever going to top this gift.”

we shared a small laugh. i looked back to the picture frame and continued admiring it. then, he squeezed my hand twice, as a few beats of silence passed between us. “hermosa?”

“yeah?” i looked back to him. he raised his brows, waiting expectantly. i realized, and my eyes widened, “oh! i love you! yeah, i do, i’m sorry, i thought i said, but i guess i forgot to. i love you so fucking much, pedro.”

he rolled his eyes, but burst into singing laughter. “i can’t believe you!”

“i’m sorry, i’m tired!”

#pedro #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n

1K notes · View notes

shaarlslec · 1 year

Text

me and the devil

words: 4554

introduction/part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5

warnings/notes: charles leclerc x reader, friends to enemies to lovers type of a thing, both of them being pricks, slight manipulation;

inspired by: Soap&Skin - Me And The Devil, The Neighborhood - Afraid, The Academic - Why Can’t We Be Friends?, lovelytheband - i like the way, The Wombats - Turn , Wallows - Pleaser

masterlist

“I came here because I–” Charles paused, backing two steps away from you. Fuck, even the idea of your bodies being departed just inches away drove Charles mad because he wanted for that space to not even exist in the first place, and yet he had to keep it cool around you – that what was he was advised, “Your war declaration impressed me.”

Summer break came and gone with you two not even exchanging a single text. There was no room for that anymore. You were at war now. At least, that is how Charles has put it in the words of his newest interview for GQ during the summer break.

“You have quite a tight gap between you and your teammate, and as far as everyone remembers it – that has not happened for you in the last two years. What changed within the team due to that? What has happened in between the two of you because as we all know it – you used to be Y/N mentor.” The interviewer dared to scoop; camera pointed to only Charles who was comfortably seating down nodding his head slowly as the words flooded the room.

“Mentor is a huge word to use here.” Charles has confidently responded, eyes piercing the camera as if he was talking to you and not an entire audience, “Y/N is an extremely talented driver, and I had the chance to watch that closely since the beginning of her racing career – and I am grateful for that.” Your teammate spoke with tensed back and shoulders, “The team priorities remined the same as they were at the beginning of the season – that is to win another championship, and to answer all of your questions,” Charles then paused, shortly inhaling the heavy air in the room as if you were there to witness the words, “I and Y/N are at war, and we will do our best for our mutual feelings to not scrouge the team’s priorities.” He added, eyes titling down at his shoes for a while to take another breather before glaring up at the interviewer again, “Next question.” He ended, almost demanding.

“He is a fucking child.” You muttered as you watched the interview next to your manager who basically forced you to watch the video, “How am I younger than him and yet the one to abstain herself from such comments?” You voiced with that burning aching feeling of your chest deepening as Charles’ heavy breaths stood as main remainders of the last time you saw each other back in the hotel room, “We are adults for God’s sake, not children playing Warzone.”

An amused side-eye came from your manager whose phone went back into their back pockets for their hands to fully lock on their torso, “Can I say something, Y/N?” They asked, waiting patiently for you to nod, “Charles angers you – and that is good.” They added, “That is if you keep it professional.”

Your eyes rolled, figuring out that you do really hate this phase. Does not sound like us, Charles’ voice reverberated in the back of your mind, “What if I do not?” You questioned, thinking about all the times in which you were almost ready to give up the whole professionalism into your being in front of him.

“You have to deal with the consequences of trying to beat the one you lose your mind for inside and outside the track.” They uttered, both of you knowing damn well that means trouble for the career you fought so much to pave.

“Enough about Charles.” You spoke, being the demanding one now, “Let me enjoy the last couple of days before I have to face him again, don’t mention him for this time being.” You added, and you could swear that you heard your manager saying “as if you don’t what that” underneath their breath.

You fought a paradox that was not only yours to bear, thoughtless of you to think that you were the only one tormented by the idea – Charles was too. Is just that Charles Leclerc had a different coping mechanism that you did. While you were trying to avoid anything online remotely linked to your teammate, Charles preferred to keep in-check your social media and to engage in every single conversation that you were mentioned in. No matter how cold and assertive he would have wanted to look when any questions about you was directed towards him, Charles enjoyed being put in such position. The Monegasque loved to be challenged, and what such thrill that you were the one to do it. You pushed him to strive for the better at the same time as you were alarming him.

“Does she bother you that much?” Arthur asked his brother watching Leclerc scrolling through your Instagram before dinner, “That you have to watch her every step even if you are not competing?” The youngest Leclerc had inquired in almost silence as he was careful of the others gathered at the family dinner to not hear them speak, “Kinda stalk-ish, if you ask me.” He then mocked, eyebrows playfully twitching up.

“Well, I did not ask you.” Charles replied as the phone was placed back in the pocket, “And yes, Y/N does bother me.” Your teammate declared, switching glare with his little brother who happened to be one of your closest friends within the sport. Yes, you had a thing for the Leclerc’s brothers.

“Then, let me be the first one to tell you that she will drive you insane.” Arthur amplified with a sharp look towards his brother who was confusedly staring back at him, “I know you two well enough to figure out who will be the one to snap first.” Arthur mumbled, and then the conversation got interrupted by the arrival of the food and the fuss that created around the table.

Charles weighted Arthur’s words. Arthur was quite right. Being that close in age with Arthur, you two grew up basically together through the junior leagues of F1. And yet, you were two steps ahead of the little Leclerc ever since the beginning. You got into F2, Arthur followed two years later despise the age gap and the relations the family had. You got into F1; Arthur struggled for another two years into F2 before making it into a midfield team alongside you who was already signed for Ferrari at that time. You were cunning, and both Leclerc were pretty much aware of that.

Charles has watched you being ahead of his brother throughout the years, and yet Arthur never quite lost his mind over you as Charles did. Arthur had always kept it calm, and your friendship was never affected by who scored the most points or who was the best amongst the two of you – why was it different for Charles?

Your teammate circulated around that question for the entirety of the dinner as everyone was trying to grab his attention with whatever question that ended up being answered by Arthur rather than Charles. He is stressed, don’t mind him. Arthur would say, trying to switch the focus from his brother to literally anything else.

Yes, Charles was extremely stressed out, but not over whatever people at the table thought that evening. It was not about the following races or even about winning the championship anymore – it was all about you and the way in which you bothered him that seemed to be very much very different from the way in which you made Arthur behave towards you.

Charles had enough time to pick his brains about this inquiry until the next time you saw each other (a couple of days down the road). You met him before practice for that weekend’s race due to your media duties. You two had to film a C2 challenge that consisted in who was the teammate that knew the other the best through answering questions about the other. You huffed as your colleagues showed you the question prompts. What were Charles’ favorite food, movie, ideal date, and celebrity crush. When did Charles won his first grand prix, what corner is his favorite out of the corners at Monza and so on. They also passed you a sheet with all the answers – and they did the same for Leclerc in other room.

“I don’t need this.” You both spoke, pushing the answer sheets away, “Most of these are wrong, anyway.” Charles and you added, glaring over your PR team.

The filming set was simple. Two chairs standing one in front of the other in the Ferrari’s garage. It was supposed to be like that, no big fuss or huge thing. You needed to show the people that were watching you that you still get along, that what happened before the summer break has no impact on you whatsoever. Those were the instructions you both received before entering the garage, now seating one in front of the other with cards gripped in both of your hands, not daring to look at each other now.

“Ok Charles, you can start.” Someone announced, and the cameras rolled. Charles begun with the introduction; eyes fixed on the camera before turning them on you. You almost flinched when Charles shifted his glare, and yet you knew that you needed to prove (to you mostly, and to him) that he was not moving you in any shape or form. Do not stand in my way. You gulped, the sweet tone that Charles was using was quite different from what he has portrayed back in the hotel room.

“We are here to find how much we know about each other.” Charles intoned, leaning back into his chair as he was piercing you, “Do you feel confident that you can win this too?” He asked, and that was for the very first time when he was addressing you after three long weeks.

You sustained the man’s glare, “How about we turn this into a speed-round?” You asked with an arched brow, “See whoever answers faster.” You teased, giving a side-eye to your managers and the team who was confused as for why you were changing the rules of the game but agreeing with your plead anyhow as soon as they heard an affirmative answer coming from Leclerc.

“Sure, why not. Five questions per person, half a minute for answers.” Charles confidently spoke, and you could swear you were the only one to see his small smile turning into a nifty smirk with the intention of intimidation.

Charles Leclerc was not intimating to you anymore as he was back in the days – it was the other way around now. You were the one who troubled him the most, and not vice-versa.

“Favorite dish?” Charles inquired, knocking his knee with the edges of the cards,

“Pasta, easy.” You immediately spoke as you slightly rolled your eyes, “But not anything that involves seafood in them, especially well-cocked shrimps.” You added, mimicking his pose as you relaxed your back in the chair as well.

Charles nodded proudly, and he kept doing that as long as the questions were asked, and your answers never fail to impress him and everyone around. You knew him, oh you knew him too well.

“My turn.” You declared, leaving the cards to fall on your knees as you crossed your arms at your chest, “Favorite spot to hang out after a race?” You inquired, not starting as easy as he did with the questions about himself.

“Trick question right from the start.” Charles laughed, “Depends on the city we are in – sometimes is some tiny hidden restaurants deep in the center of the city, and sometimes is up-hill somewhere.” He spoke, and you were not expecting him to remember all of that right from the start, “Also, when you are racing home – you always take the car and drive around the city for whole hours.” Charles replied, adding more to the answer perhaps for him to prove that he can beat you at this game as well or for you to know that he had as much attention as your stories at you had at his.

You nodded, “Very good, Leclerc.” You breathed before getting into the next questions that Charles answered in the same fashion as you did his – some of them even better.

The whole crew let you talk while your mangers were exchanging worried glances. That was the interaction of two people that are deeply interested in each other (the amount of effort you both put into remembering all those details about the other was insane). It was clear for them then, as it was for the whole team that you only pretend to despise each other. No person who hates the other could have known what their first childhood memory was or that they hate the taste of salted caramel cappuccinos. The game went on as a speed-round for a couple of minutes, until it was Charles’ turn again to ask you the questions.

“What is your relationship with my brother?” Charles suddenly inquired, and all eyes widened in the room (that type of question was nowhere on the cards).

Your eyes widened too, “Is this question about you or me?” You replied with a nervous laugh.

“It implicates us both.” He answered back, glare as sharp as a knife and voice steady as if he was almost scolding you.

“It implicates me and Arthur.” You spoke, hearing the cameraman shutting the camera down with a click as the atmosphere thickened between you and Charles, “If you are that curious – you should ask your brother then. I am sure you are closer with him that you are with me.” You muttered, wondering if it was jealousy you sensed in the tone of your teammate or simply new-found curiosity.

“You are the one in front of me now – I am asking you.” Charles fought back, but his intentions were cut shut by the Communications Manager.

“Ok guys, enough content for today.” She spoke with a little amused smile on her face, being one of many wondering what your answer is if this conversation continues any further but knowing that a scoop into your personal life would not be the best way to promote your relationship to the public, “Go take five, you two have other interviews to attend before the practice.”

“And for God’s sake,” Your manager interfered after a heavy breath, “Can you two behave for five whole minutes without attacking the other?” They asked, watching you already leaving your seat while Charles’ glare never budged from where you stood, “Y/N wait –” They rushed, following you out of the garage back into your motorhome.

“Why are you getting so worked up for?” They questioned you once they breathless caught you from behind, you were quicker than any normal person not only when driving but when you were walking too, “It was just a silly question—”

“Leclerc has no reason to be jealous.” You confessed, leaning your body on one of the walls, “Why does he act the way he does in front of other people too?” You inquired, temples pounding at the verges of your head, “Why does he care about my relationships with other drivers, have I ever asked him how well he gets along with other girls? No.” You vented; your manager perplexed shutting the door behind you two.

Charles stood from his chair after you left the room, everyone in the room was eyeing him. He adjusted his voice by coughing twice, “I guess we need to film the outro for the video some other day.” Charles simply said to your Communication Manager.

“There is no need, we will figure out something without you two in the same shoot.” She implied with furrowed brows, “But perhaps –” She paused, watching Leclerc position both of his hands at his hips, “Keep your cool in front of the cameras with Y/N, alright?”

“What do mean? Have I said something wrong?” Charles inquired, looking around the room for someone to back him up. Yet, no one did so.

“Not exactly Charles.” She answered, “But if looks could kill, you would have murdered Y/N right in front of us.”

Charles’ gulped his words before he could say something, the realization kicked in. Arthur was right – you were driving him insane. The worst part of all that? That everybody around you two was seeing that, and yet Charles acted clueless.

Focus was on the race on Sunday, after one successful qualifying session during which you got third place on the grid and Charles first. Yet, Charles had PU changes that pushed him five places back in the grid. You were ahead of him, and you were planning to keep it that way. No matter how much Charles managed to anger you outside the track, you had to take all of that and put in inside of it.

You had a good start, pushing Max on P2 and now you were chasing Russell. As you were not seeing Charles’ car in your mirrors, you kept your calm for half of the race when you took the opportunity to pass Russell too in a tight corner – exactly how Leclerc has taught you before.

It was a tough race for Charles, but a very good one for you. The minor PU changes seemed to not perform as well as the team expected on Charles’ car, so he struggled in P4 for most of the race.

It rarely happened for Charles not to be on the podium, and he needed that now more than ever for his own ego because your finish in P1 meant equality in points in the championship if he was not to pass Russell ahead of him. Xavi announced him that through the radio, while your race engineer spoke just these words to you: Y/N please abandon the fastest lap.

And yet, Russell was unyielding in P3 pissed by Max passing him five laps before the checked flag and you were angered by your team’s message. Leclerc must be in P4 still, you thought. With an open distance and a considerable gap between you and Max, you pushed all the limits of your body and that car to disobey the team’s orders without saying anything back to them as a reply.

You took P1 and you took the fastest lap of the race too. One point ahead of Charles Leclerc in the championship, and oh how much would that upset sweet little Charles.

The crowd was in awe for the second time in a row, and you were more than pleased to take the fourth trophy home for the season as well as you were thrilled to be asked how it feels to lead the championship for the first time through your F1 career before hopping on a well-deserved podium.

“What do you think your teammate has to say to this swift in points?” The Sky interviewer asked, and you would have wished for your punch to knock that man right then and there. It was your time to shine, yours and yours alone. And yet, of course – they had to ask about him, cause how can someone take the spotlight from their dearest champ?

You furrowed your eyebrows; the thought of Charles has not crossed your mind up until this stupid question. What managed to anger you now was not your teammate, but your foolish team orders. And yet, you had to give them what they wanted. Meaningless to say, you loved the chaos as much as Charles did especially during high rushes of adrenaline as now.

“As he declared – we are at war, aren’t we?” You giggled, whipping the sweat off your forehead with a smirk sprinkled on your wet face, “All of us are here to win.” You added, saved by the bell of timing as Max was asked to replace you.

Charles watched from the side, and within even his own surprise – a small smile split his face as the answer flew to the man’s ears.

Oh, the game is on.

Xavi went to apologize to Charles at the exact moment when the people in your team were hugging and congratulation you.

“I don’t need apologies, Xavi.” Charles spoke, eyes watching your every move as you went up to the podium, “I need solutions.” The Monegasque then declared, leaving the spot next to Xavi who he left wordless to go and wait for you in front of your motorhome. A warning for you seemed to not be enough, therefore Charles has decided to step up his game seeing that you did that on your own.

You were startled once you saw him at your door with his race suit half on and arms locked at his chest, “You again.” You almost sobbed beneath your gutted breath, “What do you want now?” You questioned, passing by him to open the door for him to follow you inside, another tantrum was not ideal to be witnessed by people passing, “You need to stop following me in such fashion – people might think that you are in love with me or something.” You teased, turning on your heel for now to watch him closely inches away from you as he stopped his steps right before your bodies could have tinged.

Charles said nothing to your remark. You rolled your eyes at his silence, “It is just a joke, you don’t even know how to joke anymore?” You continued, undressing from your racing suit as he was watching. Putting it half down just as him, you placed both of your hands on your hips with an annoyed look on your face, “Have you come here just to stare?” You wondered, Charles’ silence weighting as seconds passed by.

You huffed, “You are the one who did it first, Leclerc. Don’t pretend that I am the one who put us in such position.”

“Oh, so you have been watching me.” He promptly replied, your eyes rolling again as the grin on Charles’ face extended.

“Don’t gloat.” You spoke despite all the cravings inside of you that commanded wiping that man’s smile with a slap or a lock of mouths, “You are the one who has been stalking me on social media.” You replied, an immediate reaction on Charles’ face in the form of a twitched eyebrow and a nervous chuckle.

“I got my answer then.” Charles breathed, back now glued on one of your walls putting as much distance as he could in between the two of you, “You are that close with my brother so that he can rat me out to you.” He continued, one of his hands stretching the back of his neck.

Nervous, you made him nervous once again. You knew you would, and you were smart enough to figure out that the Leclerc brothers had been talking about you over the summer break for Arthur to send you a text saying What have you done to my brother that your name pops up first in his searches?

“What was with that question, anyway?” You asked with your shoulders tensed up, being impossible to fully relax all your body underneath the man’s gaze even after the race’s rush of adrenaline wore off, “You know that I and Arthur are friends, he was the one who introduced you to me.” You recollected, flashes of your first talk with Leclerc flickering in the back of your mind: when he was sweet, kind and caring, and when your crush on him started.

“I needed answers, Y/N.” Charles sighed, switching his weight from the back foot on the one standing closer to you as he made its way back into your space. Damn, Charles Leclerc was indecisive, “Why it is different for me than it is for Arthur when it comes to you.” He declared, hand up in the air now to touch your cheek.

You were startled at first, of course you were. Three weeks ago, Charles seemed to you like he could not even stand the idea of you touching his hand, and now his was on you. And yet, you caved in as his hand cupped your already rosy cheeks. No matter how much you would have liked to resist, your body told the story. He pulled your head up, close to his mouth. Oh, so damn close.

“Maybe because you are different people, and I and Arthur always have known where we stand.” You spoke, watching the little reddened spots that were still on Leclerc’s face from wearing the helmet, “You and I?” You added, touching the reddish line with the tips of your fingers, “We have yet to find out.” You continued, getting up on the edges of your foot to match Leclerc’ energy and to make the distance in between your lips to slowly fade away, “Too bad that we will not find that very soon.” You added, lips almost caressing before you snatched away from Charles, leaving him all hot and sweaty in front of you, “I know what you are doing, Charles.” You warned, steps away from him now.

“What am I doing?” Charles innocently and all confused spoke, arm hanging out around his body having none of you to touch anymore.

“You are trying to find my weak spot.” You explained with almost watery eyes, “That is you.” You acknowledged after a short breath, “You made me not care about you in the same way as I did before two years ago when you decided to play the devil card.” You continued with what were full-blown lies told to Charles in the most convincing tone, “You are not going to make me go easy on you for the remining races by making me fall in love with you, again.” You demanded as your heart broke, “Dare to touch me again when you really mean it.” You intoned, “Or do not touch me at all.”

Charles’ stare sharpened, “That is not what was I tryin—”

“Get out.” You managed to speak, “I need to change.” You lied, all you needed was a moment of peace caused by the turbulences of your heart jumping back and forth just as Charles’ steps towards you.

“Fine then.” Charles spoke, “If that is what you want.” He added, turning his back on you but not before throwing the following words behind his shoulder, “Just be aware that you are the one who is playing the devil card now – turning into me.”

Your eyes remined fixed on Charles’ back until he was out of your sight. When Charles did so, giving one last look over the shoulder – Charles’ hand went to his heart first before balancing around his body. Yes, you figured out your teammate’s plan. Charles came to find you to suede you, and yet the impact of his throbbing heart hurting within his chest was something he was not expecting to feel.

Charles needed another plan for him to not become the one who’s played by his own intentions, and yet what he saw inside your flaming eyes when your lips were so close to him aroused Charles’ entire body. Fuck, how could Charles had convinced you that part of him was really meaning it – that touching you was everything he needed, wanted, craved with or without his third title.

#all i need is the she felt first he felt harder trope #that's all #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fiction #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader

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katnisspeetaprim · 1 year

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Privacy Part 1 Yoongi/Reader

Summary: Videos surface online after hidden cameras were placed in your hotel room...

Warnings: Slight smut, invasions of privacy, swearing, angst, crying, almost panic attack, female reader.

Banner by @awrkive

Word count: 2448 M.list

Yoongi lay beneath you, panting heavily as he came down from his high. Arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him, back flush against his chest and your legs held apart as they lay draped over his thighs. Your own breathing was heavy, eyes closed as you turned your head towards him. Your warm breath blowing over his face as you placed feather light kisses along his jaw line.

‘I love you.’ You said, words coming out as a whisper. He smiled, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

‘I love you too.’ His breathing finally calming as he leaned down for a soft kiss. The two of you lay there for a few moments just enjoying being in each others embrace, him still nestled inside you.

You and Yoongi were currently in some fancy hotel in the middle of Vegas for their performances of Permission To Dance on stage . They had 1 more performance the next night before you had to head back to Korea. You had never been able to accompany him to any of his US tour dates before, always too busy with either work or some other prior engagement, so this was a big deal for both of you.

You slowly lifted yourself off of Yoongi, causing him to hiss as he slid out of you. Shuffling around, you now lay on your side face to face with him, your hand coming up to rub up and down his arm. His own hand drew lazy circles on your hip, causing goose umps to appear.

‘I’m glad you could fly out this time.’

‘Me too.’ You smiled at him before leaning in for another kiss. He pulled you closer to him by your waist, deepening the kiss when suddenly-

‘Ow! Fuck!’ Yoongi moaned out in pain, hunching over to curl up in the fetal position.

‘Oh my God Yoongi! I’m so sorry!’ You had unconsciously bought your knee up quite sharply when he pulled you into him, connecting it with his exposed groin. You bought your hand up to your mouth trying your best to conceal your laughter, as you sat up and placed your other hand on his shoulder.

‘If it was that bad you could have just said.’ He groaned out through gritted teeth, trying to compose himself a little.

‘I’m sorry! It really was an accident I swear!’ You managed to speak through fits of laughter.

‘you’re the worst.’ He sighed, finally sitting up. His back faced you as he stretched himself out before standing and offering his hand back for you.

‘Come on we need to shower, you stink.’ He smirked over his shoulder.

‘Excuse me!? How rude!’ You exclaimed in mock offence, still taking his hand and following him into the bathroom none the less.

Yoongi turned on the shower and stepped inside after it had warmed up, you joining him after using the toilet to pee.

The only time the two of you really showered together was after sex, that or you were both running late for something. You both just preferred your own space during that time, but it didn’t stop the two of you cuddling and bathing each other under the hot water.

Later Yoongi sat on the bed, legs crossed as he looked at work things on his phone. He’d changed into some comfortable clothing consisting of baggy tracksuit bottoms and a soft t-shirt. You sat at the vanity across the room, now dressed in a long oversized shirt and some shorts as you sorted out your hair for the night.

‘What time do you have to be out tomorrow morning?’ You looked at him through the mirror as you spoke.

‘Early.’ He groaned, not looking up from his phone. ‘Too early. You gonna get up with me to see me off?’ He looked up, smirking at you as he already knew your answer.

‘Yeah, no. I’ll see you at the venue later on.’ You scoffed back at him. You weren’t getting up ridiculously early for anybody, boyfriend or not.

‘It’s late.’ You spoke, glancing at the clock. ‘We should get some sleep.’ After tying your hair into a crude bun you stood up and made your way over to the bed, turning off the room light as you did leaving only his bedside lamp on. Yoongi nodded in agreement as he set his early alarm and placed his phone down on the bedside. He let you get yourself settled before he flicked off his own light.

You shimmied your way towards him as he held his arm out towards you, a silent invitation to cuddle into him. You rested your head on his clothed chest, closing your eyes listening to his heartbeat.

‘Good luck for tomorrow.’ You whispered into his chest. He ‘hmmed’ in response, eyes already closed and falling asleep. You smiled as you circled your arms tightly around him, letting sleep take over.

The concert the next night was amazing as usual, screaming your heart out for your boyfriend and close friends from a private area in the crowd. You had become quite close to all the members since you started dating Yoongi, considering all of them at least friends.

You all had a couple free days after the last concert before you had to fly back to Korea. The 8 of you decided to use the time to explore around the city and go on a shopping spree. You and Yoongi also made sure to christen every part of the overly fancy hotel room because why wouldn’t you?

It was always nice going back home to Korea after spending time away. Even though you weren’t born in the country, it had become like a second home to you after you moved there for Yoongi. You and Yoongi were now back in your shared home, enjoying his break after the tour. Even though he was on break, he was still locked away in his home studio just working away on things that didn’t need to be finished for months.

You sat at the kitchen counter, trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop, when you noticed your phone light up with a call. You smiled at the caller ID. Taehyung and you had become like best friends, having met each other when you and Yoongi first started dating years ago. You were close to all the members, but you and Tae just clicked.

‘Hey Tae, miss me already?’ You joked with a smile, only to be met with silence on the other end.

‘Tae?’ You tried again.

‘Y/N...Have you not seen?’ His voice was quiet but you could tell that he was holding something back.

‘Have yours and Hyung’s phone not been blowing up?’

‘What-‘ You cut yourself off confused. You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. Holy cow! You thought. It was just as Tae had said. It had to be hundreds if not thousands of notifications littering your lock screen. Notifications from every social media you owned and messages from friends and family. The dozens of missed calls from your mom and messages from the other boys were what really caught your attention.

Joon – Y/N, you or Yoongi really need to answer your phones.

Jinnie – Everything will be sorted out Y/N don’t worry.

Hobi – Please answer someone, we are all really worried right now!

Jiminie – I can’t believe that this is happening right now...

JJK – Y/N if you or hyung need anything we are all here for you...

You realised then that your phone had been set to do not disturb, only catching Taehyungs call since you saw your phone light up. You felt all the blood drain from your face as you slowly lifted the phone back up to your ear.

Tae... What’s going on?’ You tried to stop your voice from wavering as you spoke but failed miserably. You heard Tae sigh down the phone before continuing.

‘Look if you don’t know yet it’s probably best that it comes from Yoongi-hyung. Bang PD should be on the phone with him right now.’ You didn’t know what to think. Tae was scaring you with how cryptic he was being , and the sheer amount of notifications on your phone was enough to send anyone into a panic. When Tae didn’t hear you reply back he spoke up again.

‘Listen, talk to Yoongi. I promise everything will be ok. Me and the rest of the boys are all here for you Y/N.’ With that he bid you goodbye and hung up, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You definitely weren’t going to look at your mentions online so you got up and dragged yourself to Yoongi’s office, deciding to leave your phone on the counter.

As you approached, you could hear Yoongi talking quite loudly so Tae must have been right. You tentatively knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside.

‘Where does that leave us now?’ He was stood up, pacing back and forth occasionally running his hand through his hair due to what you can only assume was stress.

‘But that’s-‘ He stopped talking, probably cut off by the other person. You move over and sit on the small sofa in the corner of the room.

‘Yes I understand. Thank you. Goodbye.’ He hung up the phone and stared at it for a second before looking over at you. His gaze not quite meeting your eyes. You watched as he grabbed the back of his desk chair before wheeling it over directly in front of you and sitting down. He gingerly took both your hand in his own and squeezed them.

‘Yoongi...What’s happening?’ You were almost too afraid to ask. ‘Tae called me but he wouldn’t say anything so I’m freaking out right now.’ He looked up at you, face contorted in a way you didn’t recognise on him. He was silent, thinking about his words carefully.

‘You remember the hotel? The one in Vegas?’ You nodded hesitantly, unsure where he was going.

‘Turns out someone...Someone put cameras in our room.’ You froze at his revelation, not quite believing your ears.

‘Cameras? You mean they...’ You trailed off, already feeling the panic build.

‘Yes.’ He said bluntly, knowing what you were going to ask. His voice was deep, filled with a mix of anger, stress and anxiety.

'There are multiple videos of us online apparently..’ You just stared at him as his words began to sink in. How could this happen? What kind of position did that leave the two of you in? How could someone do this to you both? Your breathing started to increase as you thought about what this meant. Everybody had seen you and Yoongi together during your most intimate moments together. All the notifications suddenly made sense. Your whole body ran cold when you remembered the calls from your mother. She knew. Taehyungs call also came to mind and the boys messages...Had they all watched the videos too? No, no. They wouldn’t do that to the two of you...

You ripped you hands away from Yoongi’s and stood up to pace around the room, not unlike he was doing earlier. Your hands held your head, pulling your hair as you felt yourself hyperventilating. Yoongi was immediately on his feet and in front of you, pulling your hands out of your hair.

‘Y/N please calm down.’

‘Do not tell me to calm down Yoongi!’ You screamed startled him. ‘This situation is far from ok! I don’t know what to do.’ You started to break down, tears finally spilling from your eyes. Yoongi just stood there, letting you get it all out. His face had a defeated expression as he pulled you towards him, close to tears himself.

‘My mom knows. She’s tried to call me so many times and everybody who knows who you are has seen the videos. What do we do?’ You were now sobbing into his chest, holding on tightly to him as if your life depended on it.

‘Bang PD said we should lay low for a while. Stay off social media. The company is preparing a statement for us to look over as we speak.’ Yoongi had given up trying to be strong. He was just as upset as you were about his privacy being invaded and he wished it would be over already, despite only just beginning.

‘A lot of your fans already hate me. This is just more fuel for the hate fire.’ You trailed off. You and Yoongi had been public for a few years at this point. The original reaction to your relationship had been mostly positive, but there was a lot of hate littered between. You always tried your best to ignore the hate, but it wasn’t always that easy.

‘I’m so sorry this happened.’ Yoongi tightened his hold on you, his own tears now falling freely.

‘No please don’t apologise, this isn’t in anyway your fault.’ It broke your heart to hear him apologise for something he had no control over. You both needed to support each other right now because it was the only way you would get through this.

‘Have any of the other guys had anything come out?’ You asked, pulling your head up to look at his face. Honestly you were afraid to ask, not wanting to wish this on any of the guys.

‘No. Just us so far. I would go as far as to say whoever planted the cameras knew which room was ours.’ The thought of somebody purposely setting out to capture the two of you made you physically sick.

‘I- I think i’m gonna throw up.’ You pushed away from Yoongi and flew out the room, though you only made it a few steps before throwing up on the hallway floor, not being able to hold your stomach any longer.

This was without a doubt the worst thing that had ever happened to you. Your career could be in danger, not to mention the relationship you shared with friends and family could be on the line. Then there was Yoongi...He had so much more to loose and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one to blame...

#bts #bts x reader #scenario #one shot #imagine #drabble #reaction #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #smut #angst #fluff #female reader

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mrprettywhenhecries · 4 months

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don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

04. | A Bad Idea

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 5.1k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, misogynistic themes, inexperienced!Gator, public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, early ejaculation, oral (f!receiving), cum eating, gator being sweet, recreational drug use/marijuana ⇾ a/n. took longer than I wanted to to finish this chapter, and I think I've definitely looked at it for too long. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I could use some kind words 💚

When Roy realizes his son didn’t heed his advice, he changes tactics, telling Gator to invite Win to the ranch. After a steamy night of sex and drugs, Gator breaks the news to Win and she realizes his feelings run deeper than she thought. And maybe so do hers.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Oh fuck, Gator–”

Win’s voice cracked as her head fell back against the stall door, Gator’s heavy breaths loud in her ear with each snap of his hips, desperately fucking her in the dingy bathroom stall.

“Oh shit, you feel so damn good, Winnie,” he grunted, his brows pinched in concentration and Win couldn’t help but grin as she watched him, her head and heart only tangling further each time she tangled with him, which over the past few weeks had been as often as possible – Gator taking every opportunity he could to fall into bed with her or find some clandestine spot for them to fuck like rabbits at any free second, which at the moment happened to be after breakfast in the diner’s bathroom before Gator’s shift.

For a second, Gator’s expression altered, alarm crossing his face as his grasp on Win began to slip and she let out a yelp, hastily bracing herself before she could fall.

“Gator, if you drop me, I swear to God–” she hissed, gasping as he hefted her up higher against the door to readjust his grip on her thighs, which were wrapped tightly around his waist. “I'm not gunna drop you,” he huffed defensively, resuming his impatient thrusts, making her tits bounce softly beneath her tight top.

“Now quiet down,” we don’t want anyone finding us like this,” he grunted. “Not unless you wanna end up in handcuffs for indecent exposure,” he teased, flashing her a cheeky grin.

“Wouldn’t that entail you ending up in handcuffs too?” Win pointed out, but Gator’s grin only widened.

“Oh, but you forget, sweetheart. I’m the law,” he chuckled darkly, his eyes screwing shut moments later as he came, as if it were the thought of her in handcuffs that had tipped him over the edge.

Panting heavily, he pressed his face to her chest while he composed himself. “Did you cum?” he asked suddenly, as if just remembering to ask, his large brown eyes seeking hers and Win shook her head.

“I was close, but no,” she answered truthfully, and Gator frowned, setting her down unsteadily.

“Fuck, sorry,” he muttered as they fixed their disheveled appearances, his disappointment in himself taking Win aback a little.

By all accounts, Gator seemed like just the type of guy who didn’t really care if his partner finished, as long as he was satisfied.

Except, the more time Win spent with him, the more she realized, Gator wasn’t exactly like she’d expected him to be. Sure, some of the shit that came out of his mouth was problematic as fuck, but it almost felt parroted, as if he were just repeating what he’d heard his whole life, and it was no surprise to her who he’d heard it from.

“It’s okay, you can pay me back later, Deputy,” Win drawled, slipping her arms around his shoulders as she raised up on her toes for a kiss, sighing as his lips moved against hers.

Gator raised a brow at her as he pulled back, his hands lingering at her waist. “Later?” he asked hopefully and Win bit her lip, nodding.

“Yeah, I have the night off, you should come over, watch some movies, play some video games, have some hot nasty sex on my couch,” she purred, grinning at him expectantly and Gator groaned.

“Fuck, Winnie, you’re gunna make me hard again,” he whined and she snickered, taking his hand to lead him to the door.

“You go ahead and I’ll follow, that way it won’t look like we just did what we did,” Win said, giving Gator a little shove and he chuckled as he turned back to wink at her before striding back out into the diner.

Fighting to keep a straight face, she stepped out moments later, returning the waitress’ smile and wave before she noticed Gator standing awkwardly at the end of a booth and her blood ran cold as she noticed who had just sat down.

When Roy Tillman’s eyes met hers, it felt like time slowed, the air around her turning thick like jelly and she forced herself to keep walking, Gator’s gaze catching hers helplessly before she pushed open the door and hurried outside. Something about the Sheriff’s sharp gaze made her feel weighed and judged, like some animal at the county fair, and she didn’t like it.

Gator swore under his breath when he saw his father walk through the door and tip his hat to the waitress, heading to his favourite booth. He’d taken a gamble meeting Win there, hoping Roy would be having breakfast with Karen and the twins.

As soon as Roy noticed him, Gator nodded to him, stopping at the end of the table to greet him.

“Looks like we had the same idea today,” he chuckled, looping his thumbs through his belt loops as he shifted his weight from boot to boot, hoping Roy wouldn’t notice Win leaving, though she’d have to walk right past them to get to the door.

“Guess so,” Roy mused, half glancing over the menu, though he always ordered the same thing, when suddenly his eyes lifted, fixing on something just past Gator. He could smell Win’s perfume as she passed and glanced over at her as she hesitated for a moment at the door before pushing it open.

Once the door shut, the bell on the handle chiming her departure, Roy glanced back up at him and nodded toward the seat across from him as the waitress came with a cup and her pot of coffee.

“Sit with me,” he murmured, and Gator did so, scooting into the booth and resting his arm across the back of the bench.

Roy waited for his coffee to be poured and the waitress to confirm his usual order before speaking, his gaze focused on the steaming cup in his hand.

“Am I to assume you expect me to believe that was merely a coincidence?” he murmured, taking a careful sip from his cup before his eyes flicked up to Gator's, his sharp gaze seeming to see right through him.

Gator shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact. “That what’s a coincidence?” he asked, frowning in confusion and Roy let out a disappointed sigh, thanking the waitress as she set his food in front of him.

“That was the girl I told you to stay away from,” he continued, taking a bite of the crispy strip of bacon. “And you ignored my advice because–? What, you think you know better than me?”

“I don’t know what you’re–” Gator mumbled, only for Roy to cut him off.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, son,” he snapped, his eyes boring into Gator’s. “You’ve been coming home late, if at all, you’re neglecting your chores, you’re distracted,” he listed off, taking a bite of his eggs. “It’s not hard to see where your head’s at.”

Gator opened his mouth, a slew of excuses ready on his tongue, but he quickly swallowed them as his father took a deep breath, as if deciding something.

“I suppose you are a man now, and you can make your own decisions, as long as you understand that she’s not proper wife material… as she is now.”

Gator frowned, just the barest downward twitch of lips and knitting of brow, but he didn’t argue.

“Now, I got two stipulations if you insist on continuing to see this girl,” Roy said, holding up two fingers. “One,” he ticked off, “you pick up the slack with your chores on the ranch, and two–” he brought the second finger down as well– “you bring her to Sunday dinner so we can meet her properly.”

“Uh, I dunno if that’s such a good idea,” Gator muttered, earning himself another sharp look.

“You questioning my judgement?”

Gator gulped, shaking his head quickly. “No! No, it’s just… uh, I’m confused. I thought you said–” he trailed off, stumbling over his own tongue and Roy let out a long suffering sigh.

“It’ll be good for her to spend some time around honest folk, and maybe Karen can show her how a proper woman acts,” he drawled, and Gator quickly nodded in understanding, though he already knew Win wasn’t gunna like it.

“Alright then, get goin’ now,” Roy said, nodding toward the door. “We’ll see you and your girl Sunday.”

Gator nearly tripped climbing out of the booth, trying to figure out how to persuade Win to go.

When Gator showed up later that night–for it could be no one but Gator, with that booming cop’s knock–Win answered the door in a pair of shorts and one of his black tees he’d left behind, her nipples hard under the dark fabric, having forgone a bra when she’d thrown it on after her shower. The pungent smell of weed clung to her, and Gator leaned against the door frame, unabashedly looking her up and down as he got a whiff.

“You been smokin’ in here, miss?” he drawled, his lips stretching into a sly grin and Win shrugged, not even bothering to deny it.

“You gunna arrest me, Deputy?” she asked, arching a challenging brow at him.

“I just might have to,” Gator replied, running his tongue over his molars as he shook his head in bemusement.

Win eyed him skeptically. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, tugging him inside and shutting the door, pressing her back to it when Gator took a step closer, pressing his hands to either side of her head, boxing her in.

“Oh, you have no idea, Princess,” he drawled, watching her lips hungrily.

“I’m really not surprised,” she teased, slipping under his arm to flit past him, leaving him wanting more, and Gator let out a frustrated breath, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his leather jacket before following her.

“You got any weed left?” he asked and Win threw her head back in laughter.

“You’re such a shit cop,” she snorted, pointing to her pipe laying on the coffee table next to her lighter.

“Hey, I’m the law, remember, sweetheart?” Gator scoffed, snatching the pipe and bringing the mouth to his lips.

“I’m not sure that’s how the law works,” Win murmured, rolling her eyes as Gator struggled to get the lighter to light, flicking the wheel several times before a flame appeared and he took a long draw.

Win leaned against the wall, trying not to stare too intently when he finally blew the smoke out in a long stream, the effect somewhat ruined by the coughing fit that followed, and she snickered, shaking her head.

“I’ve got a frozen pizza and some wings in the oven,” she said, nodding toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” she offered, telling herself she was just being a good host and not waiting on him hand and foot.

“Got any Mtn. Dew?” Gator asked, sinking onto the couch and grabbing the remote, flipping through the channels til he found something he liked.

Win reappeared several minutes later with two bottles, dropping one in Gator’s lap before plopping down next to him and taking a swig from her own.

“Die Hard, nice,” she murmured, snatching her lighter and the pipe from the table before leaning back and resting her legs in Gator’s lap, the light from the tv screen illuminating her face in the dark room as she took another hit.

She hadn’t been planning on getting high that night, but their near run in with Roy that morning had her nerves on edge and she’d ended up swinging by her dealer’s trailer on the way home before she realized that’s where she’d been headed. And though she was curious as hell if the Sheriff had sussed them out, saying something to Gator after she’d left, she wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

It weren’t as if they were dating…

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she murmured, taking another swig of her Mtn Dew, her eyes finding his in the dim light.

Gator frowned in thought, his large hand resting on her ankle, thumb drawing circles against her cool skin. “You know I used to play football?” he asked, not really waiting for her response before continuing. “I was All County quarterback senior year, a real winner,” he boasted, his gaze turning far away, as if lost in memory.

“So you were a real hot shot, huh?” Win mused, having a bit of a hard time picturing it, if she was being honest. “I’m surprised you didn’t have cheerleaders falling over you left and right,” she teased and Gator wrinkled his nose at her, clearly not amused.

“Oh, I did. The only problem was, they were all members of the Abstinence Club,” he huffed. “The only action I got was over the clothes and awkward handies while making out,” he admitted with a scowl, just waiting for Win’s amused laughter.

“Aw, you poor thing,” she cooed instead, a hint of condescension in her tone, biting her lip to keep from giggling, just imagining Gator’s frustration. “Weren’t there any freaky girls you could’ve gotten with? You know, anti-social goth girls that wouldn’t turn their noses up at fucking the quarterback?” she wondered.

“Unfortunately, no,” Gator sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch. “It’s a pity you didn’t go to high school with me.”

“You think I would’ve fucked you back then?” she teased and Gator snorted.

“Course you would’ve, you can’t keep your hands off me,” he boasted, a smug grin twisting his lips. “You’re such a shit,” Win scoffed, though she couldn’t hold back her answering grin, knowing he was probably right.

“Can I get another hit of that?” Gator asked, nodding to the pipe in her hand and Win followed his gaze, sitting up slightly. Instead of handing it to him, however, she brought it to her mouth, lighting the bud and taking a long drawl, the light from the small flame illuminating her face. Holding the smoke in her lungs, she crooked her finger, beckoning him closer, peering up at him through her lashes.

Frowning in confusion, Gator leaned in, gasping in surprise as Win tilted her head as if to kiss him, their lips nearly touching before slowly exhaling the stream of smoke into his mouth.

Gator’s eyelids fluttered as he inhaled the pungent smoke, a soft groan catching in his throat before he surged forward the rest of the way, capturing Win’s lips in a searing kiss that took her just as off guard as she’d taken him, pinning her beneath him.

“That was fuckin’ hot,” Gator breathed between deepening kisses, his tongue writhing against hers, exploring her mouth boldly as his free hand traversed her body, slipping under the hem of her shirt to cover her breast, greedily massaging her beneath the dark fabric, his fingers tweaking her pert nipple, playing with her piercing to draw a desperate moan from her.

“Gator–” Win breathed, squirming beneath his touch, arousal pooling low in her gut and seeping through the thin fabric between her legs.

“Hmm?” he hummed, grinding against her, his bulge obvious beneath the rough fabric of his cargo pants and she whined as it pressed against her aching heat, the sudden shrill cry of the oven timer interrupting the moment.

“Shit, I gotta get the food out,” she groaned, half halfheartedly pushing against Gator, a gasp leaving her lips as his mouth found her pulse point, his canines sinking into her skin.

“Ignore it,” he mumbled, grinding harder against her as he pinched at her nipple, his tongue soothing the love bite at her throat.

“It’ll burn,” Win argued, biting back the moan that sprang to her lips before pushing Gator back, nearly kneeing him in the groin as she rolled out from under him. He let out a frustrated growl, but the rumble in the pit of his stomach reminded him just how hungry he was, the smell from the kitchen making his mouth water.

“Win!” he called, palming himself over his pants before adjusting his half softened length. “Hurry up, I’m starving,” he whined, leaning back against the couch to peer into the kitchen to see if she was coming.

“You’d get it faster if you got off your ass,” he called back, finally rounding the corner back to the sofa, two plates in hand.

“Oh, you’re an angel,” Gator cried, reaching for the plate she held just out of reach, waiting for a ‘thank you’.

“Close enough,” she snorted in amusement, letting him have his food before sitting back down next to him and propping her feet on the edge of the coffee table.

Silence fell as the two of them dug in, watching the movie as they ate.

“So…” Win mused around a mouthful of pizza, her eyes flicking from the tv screen to Gator. “When’re we gunna talk about this kink you have with restraining me?” she asked, her lips twitching at the way he froze, half eaten wing still hanging from his sticky fingers.

“What? Who says I—“ Gator cut off mid sentence at the knowing look in Win’s eyes. “I dunno,” he mumbled, sucking the rest of the meat from the wing before dropping the bones to his plate. “Just like the idea of being in control, I guess. Like seeing you helpless,” he murmured, clearing his throat.

Win nodded. “I like being helpless sometimes,” she mused, watching his reaction. “Don’t see why we couldn’t try that sometime.” She shrugged nonchalantly and Gator had to swallow, needing to work moisture back into his mouth.

“As long as you let me return the favour,” Win added, grabbing her pop bottle for a swig. “You look awfully cute yourself when you’re squirming under me, whining for me to let you cum.”

Gator flushed, his eyes falling to his plate, not sure he wanted her to know how much he enjoyed that as well.

“Think we should decide on a safe word before we delve into those fantasies,” she mused. “Maybe something simple as ‘yellow’ for slow down and ‘red’ for a hard stop,” she suggested. “Think you can remember that?”

“Yeah, course,” Gator huffed, rubbing at his nose with his knuckle before making to suck his fingers clean of sauce.

Before he could finish, Win caught his hand, wrapping her lips around the first finger, her tongue curling around his digit before hollowing her cheeks to suck, pulling his finger from her mouth with a soft pop before repeating the process with his next finger, her eyes not leaving his.

Gator’s mouth fell open as he watched, a moan catching in his throat. “Fuck, Win,” he hissed, his cock once more straining against the confines of his pants. “You really know how t’make me hard.”

Win smiled, leaning in to whisper in his ear once she’d finished sucking his fingers clean. “Yeah well, I’m really fucking wet right now,” she breathed, licking a wet stripe along the shell of his ear.

“Oh shit–” Gator groaned, his eyelids fluttering as his hips gave an involuntary jerk.

“Are you gunna be a good boy for me?” Win asked, placing her hand over the bulge in his cargos. “Gunna let me ride you?”

Gator let out a shaky breath, clearly itching to free his throbbing length, but holding back, waiting for Win’s permission.

“Uh huh, I’ll be good,” he whispered breathlessly, wetting his lips as he pleaded with his eyes. “Need you so bad,” she whined and Win’s grin grew. She loved that he was two sides of the same coin–cocky and demanding one minute and needy and submissive the next.

“Good boy,” she purred, grasping the hem of her shirt and lifting it over her head in one swift motion, letting it fall to the floor as she leaned in to kiss him, her hands slipping under his shirt as her tongue flicked against his, her palms sliding up his stomach and chest as she worked the tight fabric over his head.

Breaking the kiss just long enough to rid him of the garment, her mouth was back on his as her hands went to his pants, making quick work of his belt and zipper. As soon as his cock was free, Win stood, hooking her thumbs under the elastic of her shorts and shimmying them down along with her soiled panties, letting Gator watch, his eyes caressing her body like a man starved before she crawled astride him, too needy to tease him any further.

“Need you,” she breathed against his lips, her tongue meeting his as she ground down against him, coating his twitching length in her slick.

Gator’s answering groan was quickly swallowed and his hands circled her hips tightly, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he guided her movements and Win reached between them to grasp his cock, lining him up with her slick entrance and sinking down onto him, their moans blending together.

“Feel so good,” Gator grunted, his mouth falling open as she began to ride him, her hips rolling fluidly against him, picking up speed as his gasp on her urged her on.

Not bothering to watch her volume, Win’s rising moans competed with the sloppy sound of her pussy as her smooth movements turned harried, instead bouncing in his lap, chasing her pleasure as he drowned in it.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he gasped, exploding inside her without warning, her tits bouncing in his face as she milked him, pumping her fuller with each bounce.

“Shit—“ Gator whined, his head falling back against the couch as he panted for breath, kicking himself for cumming too soon.

“Sorry, I—“ he began, wincing as he softened inside her and Win surprised him by pressing a weary kiss to his lips, her sweat slicked forehead falling forward to rest against hers.

“Didn’t mean to cum so soon…”

Win shook her head. “It’s kinda hot,” she murmured, working moisture back into her mouth. “My pussy’s too good, you couldn’t hold back,” she said, her lips quirking slightly. “You know, there are other ways you can help me finish,” she added with a shrug and it was Gator’s turn to wet his lips as a thought occurred to him.

“Sit on my face.”

Win’s brows rose at how fast he suggested it. “You sure?” she asked. Gator’d had yet to test his oral skills and Win wasn’t exactly expecting much, but the husky way he said it made her stomach flip.

“Okay,” she breathed, helping him slide off the couch to the floor, his head resting back against the couch cushions while Win hovered over him, his spunk mixed with her arousal dripping down the inside of her thighs and he groaned at the sight, hooking his arms around her legs boxing in his face, bringing her down to his mouth.

“Oh–” she gasped as he kissed her, giving her clit an experimental lick, his tongue seeking her sensitive nub, swirling around it as he savoured her taste. It was so much sweeter than he’d expected and he moaned into her cunt, his eyelids fluttering as he grew bolder, tilting his chin upwards as his tongue pushed into her folds, exploring her already messy sex with fervor, his nose bumping against her clit with each movement.

“Y-yeah, yeah just like that,” Win murmured, her hands gripping the couch back as she rolled her hips, grinding against Gator’s face in her desperation for more friction.

His fingers bit into her thighs as he feasted on her, using his entire face to pleasure her, past caring about the mess that smeared his chin and cheeks, each gasp and moan he pulled from her felt like a badge of honour, driving him on, his tongue delving deeper before returning to her throbbing clit, lapping at it with broad relentless rolls of his tongue, breathing heavily through his nose as he drew her bundle of nerves between his lips to suck until she was shuddering, her thighs clamping tighter around his head.

“Oh fuck, GATOR–!” she cried, her hips stuttering as her climax hit her and she threw her head back, her entire body going rigid.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, collapsing to the couch and letting Gator breathe. “You can say that again,” he exclaimed, grabbing his shirt to wipe his face and taking a swig of pop before turning to look at her, a smug smirk gracing his swollen lips. “Seems like you enjoyed that,” he drawled, climbing to the couch with her and getting comfortable, laying half draped over her where she lay, their legs tangling as he snuggled closer.

“Don’t get cocky, Tillman,” Win teased, running her fingers through his mussed hair, the gelled strands half falling into his face as he rested his chin against her chest.

“Too late,” he chuckled huskily, licking his lips. “You taste really good, by the way,” he mused.

“Glad you think so,” she murmured, relaxing back against the throw pillow behind her, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “That was pretty hot how into it you were.”

Gator shrugged. “I like making you feel good.”

Win hummed, her fingers trailing down his smooth back, tracing lines between the dark moles and freckles that littered his skin.

“So, I was thinking… you should come to the ranch for Sunday dinner,” he murmured after a moment, his downturned eyes flicking up to hers hesitantly and Win frowned, her brows pinching.

“Gator, are you crazy? That sounds like a terrible idea,” she exclaimed, half pushing up to gape at him. “What about Roy? I thought the last thing we wanted was for him to know about this?” she asked, gesturing between the two of them.

Gator winced, hoping she wouldn’t freak out too much when he told her his dad already knew about them. “Actually, this was his idea…” he replied reluctantly.

“Really? Somehow I have a hard time believing that,” Win huffed, an uneasy feeling bubbling in her gut and she let out a soft groan. “That’s what he said to you after I left this morning, wasn’t it? He figured it out,” she murmured, reading the truth in his guilt filled gaze.

Gator nodded, the lines furrowing his brow deepening. “He said he wants to meet the girl I’ve been sneaking around with.”

A heavy rush of air whistled through Win’s teeth and she pressed a hand to her face. “I dunno, Gator, this all seems very official, and we’re–hell, I don’t really know what we are,” she exclaimed, letting her hand drop while her gaze instinctively sought his in the dim room.

“What do you want us to be?” he asked softly, a worried frown knitting his brows as he waited for her answer, his large brown eyes watching her earnestly.

“Aw Jesus, don’t do that,” Win groaned, snapping her eyes shut against the sight, too much for her to take in the moment—her chest tightening with an emotion she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Do what?” Gator countered, nearly pouting, his frown deepening and Win groaned again when she opened her eyes.

“You know what!” she whined. “Stop looking at me with those damn eyes of yours.”

“What’s wrong with ‘em?” Gator asked, a small smirk playing at his lips when he realized the power he had over her with just a look.

“They’re dangerous!” Win exclaimed, trying to turn away, but Gator was having none of it.

“Yeah, and why’s that?” he countered, grabbing her chin to force her to face him and she huffed a sigh.

“Because they’re more beautiful than they have any fuckin’ right to be,” Win breathed, wincing when Gator’s grin widened.

“Fine!” she huffed, cornered. “I like seeing you, alright?” she conceded, feeling her cheeks burn. “But I like how easy this is–how it’s been–and-and I’m afraid putting a label on it is gunna complicate everything. I don’t wanna get hurt,” she explained, her words growing smaller at the end of her outburst and Gator’s expression softened.

“I don’t wanna hafta hide you anymore, Win. I wanna show off my girl. Fuck, I want everyone to know you’re mine. Is that so bad?” he murmured, searching her face.

“Your girl?” Win scoffed before softening, her resolve weakening—those two little words sending her stomach fluttering.

“C’mon Winnie, be the Ripley to my John McClane,” he uttered with all seriousness, using the line from one of her favourite songs against her and Win barked an incredulous laugh, her doubt forgotten for a moment.

“I can’t believe you actually just made that reference!” she exclaimed, hiding her face against his forehead and Gator stiffened.

“Hey, I listened to that mix you made me. Some of it was weird, granted, but I liked that line!” he yelped defensively.

“Now, how the hell can I say no when you compare me to one of the most badass women in movie history?” Win murmured, shaking her head in bemusement.

“You can’t.” Gator shrugged, half holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

“Alright, fine, I’ll be your girl,” Win relented, rolling her eyes and Gator sobered at her flippant tone, the amusement draining from his face.

"Don’t get my hopes up if you're just gonna leave like everyone else,” he murmured, and Win felt a block of ice drop into her stomach. All this time she’d been so focused on how he could hurt her, never giving any thought to the fact that she could hurt him just as badly, that his feelings for her might be that deep, and it took her by surprise at just how serious he was.

“I won’t,” she breathed, turning his face toward her, her eyes searching his, the vulnerability in his gaze twisting her heart. They’d never talked about his mother before, but if her friends were to be believed, she’d apparently run off when he was young, leaving him with his father.

“I mean it,” she insisted, her breath wavering. “Just… don’t make me regret it,” she whispered and Gator nodded.

“I won’t,” he echoed, letting out a breath she hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. “Does this mean you’ll come?” he asked and Win sighed.

“Yeah, but they’re gunna hate me,” she reminded him, anxiety prickling her gut.

“Just don’t get political, and wear your nicest dress and those boots you look so good in,” he said, the tension leaching from his body as he rested his cheek against her chest, nuzzling closer to her.

“I hope you know what you’re talking about,” Win whispered, but she felt herself relaxing as well, slipping her arms around him, the weight of his embrace calming her somewhat.

“Trust me,” he murmured.

Win squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she could—hoping she wasn’t making a mistake. She knew this meant she’d be walking willingly into the wolves’ den, but at least Gator would be there with her. He wouldn’t feed her to the wolves.

At least, she hoped so.

⇾ taglist. @heartbreak-sandwich @cherrychapsticksteve @super-unpredictable98 @b1tchy3lf

#gator tillman #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfiction #fargo #fargo fx #fargo s5 #oc: win lewis #joz.fic #fic: don’t waste your time on me #otp: wingator

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.7k] prompt: “reader being afraid of thunderstorms” soft sheets, gloomy days, perfect boyfriend Steve.

The news of an oncoming thunderstorm had the kids buzzing with anticipation.

The boys, and to be honest, El and Max, were all filled to the brim with excitement, an event that finally had nothing to do with monsters or other worldly dimensions, Russians or the government.

It seemed almost insignificant in comparison, but the kids had begged Jonathan for one of his older cameras, talking excitedly about the cool photos they were going to capture.

Steve had screwed up his face and groaned, “what? God, no! Henderson, Jesus, promise me everyone will stay inside?” when Dustin asked him if he could drive them all to Weathertop the night of the storm.

The news had been filled with updates on it, chatter about the monsoon level rain that was going to hit the small town and by noon that Friday, most businesses had shut up shop, the school had boarded up its windows and there were dark, indigo clouds rolling in.

Steve had promised to pick you up from work, making you swear to him that morning that you wouldn’t walk anywhere, under any circumstances. You’d agreed, quiet and unsettled, yet to tell your boyfriend about the nerves that had been rolling around in your stomach since the news broke.

You couldn’t remember when your fear of thunderstorms had begun, but you definitely remembered power cuts and tree branches thrashing against your bedroom window, too big shadows that loomed over you and thunder that seemingly made the earth shake.

You hated the noise, the dark it brought, the flashes of light that cut through the gloom.

But then the storm had hit a little earlier than forecasted, the sky turning a purple you’d never seen before and the wind picked up suddenly, slamming into the buildings, angering the trees. The arcade you worked in fizzled into darkness, a pop, a crackle and then silence.

The machines powered off, the lights cut to black and the constant jingle of alarms and bells faded into an unnerving silence. It seemed the whole town was out of power and before you could panic about not being able to call Steve due to the phone not working, the BMW rolled into the parking lot not even ten minutes later.

He was still in his Family Video vest, name badge pinned squint on his chest and he looked a little stressed, settling immediately when he saw you at the front door, doe eyes wide and glassy.

You ran for the car door, Steve leaning over the console to push it open for you so could fall in, chest heaving, breath coming in shirt puffs and god, the rain had started, heavy splotches painting your shirt and skin.

“Got here as quick as I could, babe, shit,” Steve was frowning, neck craned to look up out of the windscreen, grimacing at the threateningly dark clouds that were looming above. “I didn’t think it was s’posed to hit for another few hours.”

He turned when you didn’t respond, a rolling sound coming from the sky, a crackle, a rumble, a flash of light. You jumped, fingers flying to the edge of the seat, knuckles white as you gripped hard, as if the wind was ready to pick up the town and throw it into the sky - as if it was going to take you with it.

You hated how small you felt, how insignificant. How the sky seemed bigger, wider, darker, hungrier. You hated how there was a buzz in the air, the lingering threat of lightning making your hair stand on end, prickle at your neck. You hated how it made your stomach twist, uneasiness in your bones, an ache in your chest that made everything tight.

You heard your name, a soft whisper, a warm hand on your leg, soothing.

“Babe? Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was full of concern and when you turned to him, he was leaning into you, head ducked a little so he could meet your gaze and god, he looked so worried. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

The breath you sucked in stuttered and hitched in your throat, burned in your chest and you could feel tears brimming along your lash line, the rain outside pounding on the sidewalk a little harder before and god, fuck, the sky was groaning again.

“I, uh,” you sniffed, eyes wide and searching, on edge as you waited for another flash of light to split the sky. “It’s so stupid, I’m so stupid, I just, shit, I really don’t like thunderstorms.”

Steve knew that this was more than a simple dislike. You were curled in on yourself, seeming smaller than ever in the passenger seat, tears yet to fall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your whole body was tense. You were terrified.

“Okay,” he nodded, reassuring and his voice was impossibly soft. A hand spread wide and warm over your thigh, his thumb pressing circles into your skin. “Let me take us home, yeah? You wanna come to mine?”

You nodded, fingers clutching at Steve’s and he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressed a kiss over your knuckles and watched you with worried eyes.

“You’re okay, it’s not stupid,” he told you, and with only a little difficulty, he put the car into gear, rolling out of the parking lot with one hand on the wheel, the other still holding yours. Your grip was vice like. “I got you, sweetheart, we’ll be home soon.”

True to his word, Steve drove as fast as he could over the wet roads, the town desolate as everyone hunkered down to prepare for the storm. You hated how you had to drive towards the dark clouds, a menacing sight that reminded you far too much of another world, flashes breaking apart the dark shapes, the wind picking up, the rain falling harder.

The boy took your hand as you both tumbled out the parked car, feet and legs wet with running through puddles that were quickly forming into small pools and even when the door to the Harrington house slammed shit behind you, you could still hear the pounding on the roof, the wind throwing small branches and foliage against the windows.

“You alright?” Steve murmured, leaning down into you, hands cupping your damp cheeks, the stinging cold of his skin nipping against yours.

You nodded, lips twisted, unsure if you were lying or not ‘cause it was only half past twelve in the day and it seemed like the dead of night, but Steve was so soft with you, voice achingly sweet, hands and lips pressing affection into you.

“I’m gonna try and make this better, yeah?” He told you and you wanted to crumble, a lump in your throat when he bent and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and he smiled when you chased it, pushing your lips to his to seek out the comfort you were desperate for.

He did. He did make it better.

He pushed dry clothes into your arms, your favourite sweater of his, a pair of clean boxers that you rolled at the waist, the edges of them barely seen once you pulled the shirt on, soft cotton and leftover aftershave engulfing you.

And when the storm reached overhead, thunder rolling, the sky opening up above you, angry and a dirty lavender colour, Steve took your hands and led you into bed. He put the stereo on, a mix tape made by you playing softly from his dresser, the sheets pulled up tight around you.

He pulled you both into the nest of pillows he loved to have, pulled you into his arms and you lay under the duvet, foreheads pressed, noses brushing.

Steve didn’t question it, didn’t ask you why. He just asked you if you were okay, if there was anything else he could do. You asked for a distraction, eyes still a little wet and he kissed over your lashes, lips impossibly soft. He trailed his mouth to your cheek, the spot under your ear, down the line of your throat and when you pushed your hands up under his shirt in response, he smiled and encouraged you to move over.

Hands in your own, he tugged, gripping your waist until you settled over his lap, legs spread, fingers tangled in his hair and the world seemed so much softer under Steve’s sheets.

He let you kiss him, he let you do what you wanted with him, body lazy, lips pliant under yours, kissing you back soft and deep until you were both a little worked up.

It was warmer pressed against the boy, shirts shifting up, shorts rucked messy up your thighs as you shifted over him, searching for a distraction that would take you somewhere else.

And when the next roll of thunder crashed outside, sky lighting up like the Fourth of July, you barely flinched, lips stuttering over Steve’s for just a second before the boy licked into your mouth, tongue sliding over yours the same time his hand gripped the back of your thigh, pulling you into him.

“How’s my girl doing?” Steve asked, mouth on your throat, voice a little wrecked.

“Good,” was your response, surprised at the way you were tuned into nothing but the boy underneath you. “Shit, good.”

He grinned, hands still wandering, touch and lips all soft for you, deep and full of adoration, the kind of kisses that made you gasp all pretty, your fists curling into the front of his shirt, anchoring you to him.

He didn’t seem to mind, not at all.

In fact, as the rain fell harder still, ricocheting off of the roof like bullets, Steve rolled you both over, caging you under him as he pushed the hem of his own sweater up your ribs, hands trailing hot over you.

“Can I keep distractin’ you?” He whispered, words pressed into your skin, his lips mouthing over your belly button, teeth grazing above the waistband of his boxers he’d given you.

You made a sound of agreement, head nodding enthusiastically and you felt his smile on the jut of your hip, all too pleased with himself as he tucked his finger into the waistband and teased the material down your legs.

“Lie back, sweetheart,” he told you and fuck, you didn’t hear anything else for the rest of the day.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things

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missingmark · 1 year

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― who you gonna call? pt.1

the boys know they'll always have someone to call when they need them. that someone in question being you, luckily that feeling is more than mutual.

‧₊˚ matt x gn!reader

‧₊˚ warnings: light swearing, otherwise very very wholesome :)

‧₊˚ word count: 840

‧₊˚ pt.2 ( nick ) | pt.3 ( chris ) | masterlist

( 𝖒. ) ; you call him when it all feels like way too much

You had almost fallen asleep in Matt's car if it weren't for the enthusiastic rambling of your best friend next to you. One of his hands would sometimes leave the steering wheel to comb through his hair or emphasize his words with some sort of gesture. Your eyes, even half lidded, would follow his movement, your head against the window in the passenger seat

He had offered to pick you up from college after hearing how awful your day was.

"-and, I don't know what happened but Nick suddenly developed a weird obsession with Po from Kung Fu Panda, it's like all he talks about. Can you believe it? Chris has to leave the room any time it starts."

If you weren't so tired you would have giggled at his story, but any movement seemed to drain your energy even more and you were saving it up for having to peel yourself from the seat and walking into their home.

Matt insisted on assisting you, carrying you on his back into the house as he continued to talk.

"Yesterday I walked in on him reading an article called "25 inspirational Kung Fu Panda Quotes that will change your life forever" and when I tried to address it he just hissed at me. He hissed."

Chris looked up from his place on the couch, a smile forming on his face at the sight of the two of you. He, too, was forced to listen to your whining in the group chat about your hard day.

"Move," Matt muttered once he stood in front of his brother, turning around and letting you plop onto the couch with a small thud, your head landing in Chris' lap.

"Ouch! Dude, your head is heavy as fuck."

You opened one eye to glare up at him.

"Cuz it's full of knowledge, stupid."

"I highly doubt that, considering you literally sat through the wrong class today and didn't notice for the whole 50 minutes."

"How do you know that?!" You yelled, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Cuz you literally spammed us all about it in the group chat today, you goof."

"Oh god." You mumbled into your hands, not noticing the third brother also entering the room, leaning over the couch to offer you some of his sympathy.

"Why did I even want to become a film major, who put this insane stupid dummy-dumb idea into my head?!" You groaned, kicking your legs in frustration.

"Because you made a compilation of Nick falling down when we were in middle school and you called it your magnum opus," Chris recalled, stroking your head in sympathy.

"That was a pretty funny video," Matt mumbled under his breath.

"I should quit," You murmured only to be met with disagreement from your friends.

"Sure you're having a bit of a tough day, but you'll get through it," Nick tried to cheer you up, "You'll be done with college soon anyway."

"But if you want to take a bit of a break, we'll understand, maybe skip some classes tomorrow to get a good rest and-"

"That's a terrible idea, Chris! They already missed one of their classes today. If you skip you'll just be farther behind with the material."

Nick walked over to you, taking your hands in his as he looked deep into your eyes.

"A real warrior never quits," he smiled.

You almost smiled back.

"Po said that in the first Kung Fu Panda, but to be honest the second one is like-"

"Ok. I have to leave," Chris mumbled, lifting your head as gentle as he could despite the sudden spike in rage that was building up in him at his brothers words.

He walked towards the kitchen only for Nick to follow after him.

"What?! What's your problem with the panda? You hater!" Their voices grew faint. Only you and Matt being left at this point.

He walked over towards you, lying down on the couch too and pulling you into his chest.

"I believe in you. Never ever tell him I said this but Nick is right; don't quit, okay? Rest a bit now and I'll help you with your assignments once you wake up."

You grinned into his sweatshirt and let the tiredness finally take over your body.

i wrote this while watching schaffrillas production review kung fu panda 2.

i hope you enjoyed, luv u <3

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfiction #missingmark writes #real person fic #sturniolo triplets x you #nick sturniolo x yn #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfiction #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #missingmark

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krash-and-co · 3 months

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haven't done this in a while, so here !! l&co as stuff I've heard/said in the past few months, bc I don't remember exact exchanges before then 👍👍

arguably more unhinged for reasons unknown. fate of Gods favorite clown idk

Lucy: I thought Billie Joe Armstrong went to the moon for a long time, honestly.

Lucy: [calling Barnes] there's a stranger at our house. she tried really hard to get in, and--

Lockwood, in the distance: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

Lucy: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

Holly: Lockwood, you have the coolest style.

Lockwood: thanks!

Lucy: what?!? she just tells me I look gay.

Lucy: and homeless.

holly: I want to help disabled kids ride a tricycle. wait, I meant to say horses.

lockwood: you want to help disabled horses ride a tricycle??????

Lucy: I don't have mommy issues I just don't like my mom.

Lucy: you gave me a framed photo for my birthday

Lucy: and within thirty minutes you stepped on it.

Lockwood: but then I bought you a new frame!!!

Lucy: and then I opened it, and it looked like you stepped on it.

Lockwood: well I'm not buying you another one.

skull: ugh, theyre so obsessed with how they look.

lucy, nodding: yeah, they're all "oh I'm so perfect!" preps. they definitely shave their legs.

Lockwood: I need to work on my swearing problem, cuz there are adults around and they don't li-- *drops thermos* ow FUCK

Lockwood: shut the windows. shut the fucking windows, I feel like we're being watched.

Lucy: hahaha, this is fucking terrifying.

Lockwood: here are the knives.

Holly: do you have any baseball bats? I don't want to stab people.

George: no, but we have crutches. we can hit people with them.

Holly, nodding: that's good.

Lockwood: I'm stupid.

Kipps: no you're not- yes you are. I don't know why I said you're not, so I had to correct myself.

holly: if we kill someone, we'll get in.... trouble.

George: shit!! I mean fuck!!! I mean crap!!!

Lucy, hitting him repeatedly: stop CURSING YOU FUCKING-- DANG IT!!!!!

Holly: do you ever get the urge to be randomly violent, like-

[loud clatter as lockwood and kipps beat each other up in the background]

holly: yeah like that.

Kipps, on searching for Bobby: I used to just grab any kid I saw about his height with brown hair, but that caused problems.

Lucy: what's your biggest fear?

Lockwood: what? spiders.

Lucy: no the other one

Lockwood: change.

Lucy: no the-- the other one.

George: what do you WANT FROM HIM-

lucy: you're going to make me have a gambling addiction.

skull, nodding: that's the idea.

George: pff my mom says im special.

Lockwood: im also special! they put me in classes about it.

[Lockwood and George burst out laughing while everyone else stares]

[Lucy and George are punching each other, screaming, and spewing out profanity in sign language]

George: literally nobody even looked up

Lucy: we're at the point where it's normal

George: yeah, haha!

Lucy: haha!

[a moment of heavy breathing and grinning before they begin fucking attacking each other again]

George, to Lucy: ugh im so sore. why do you keep punching me.

[Lucy punches him]

ok last one but this was a hell of a fucking convo and it was so funny everyone just jumped in with random twists 😭😭

[kipps crew, l&co, and flo are all sitting in barnes otherwise empty office]

George: kipps sounds terminally online, but I can't figure out yet if it's the normal kind or if he has. like. a kin list.

Lucy: the two extremes. normal or homestuck.

George: I read all of homestuck but it's okay I'm normal now

skull: im-

lucy: skull YOU'RE terminally online, but like the video gamer kind. kipps sounds like he had a my hero academia phase.

Lockwood: I was friends with someone who would roleplay mha all the time.

George: like pretend to have powers or something?

Lockwood: no, like pretend to be the characters. interact as them.

bobby: I don't roleplay, but I like to imagine I'm a different person with powers sometimes :)

ned: ha, furry.

flo: furry? one of my friends knows a furry who got her tail stolen, and she's in the office right now.

Lockwood: like today??

flo: yeah today. she's there right now.

Lockwood: [silence] oh.

flo: yeah they just. yoink.

[silence]

bobby: .....im not a furry but--

Lucy: aaaand gonna stop you right there before you make things worse for yourself

kat: why can't we EVER have normal conversations

#pov the most insane person you know has friends and theyre just as bad #bonus points if you can guess who was me bc a lot of these things i said some of lol #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #holly munro #quill kipps #george cubbins #george karim #bobby vernon #ned shaw #kat godwin #flo bones #montagu barnes #lockwood & co #incorrect quotes #sort of lol

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huhustuff · 1 year

Note

Can you write about josh x reader, where the reader is seriously clumsy, hurts herself and josh freaks? X🤍

ㅤ

𝙄 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚___𝙅𝙤𝙨𝙝 𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Thank you for the cute request 🤗 !! It turned out to be more accident based than clumsiness, but I hope you and the other readers enjoy this <3 !!!

___________________________________________

ㅤ

It was once again Josh's turn to organize the upcoming Sidemen Sunday. He insisted that you shouldn't waste your time on helping him (his words, not yours), but you disagreed. Josh was such a hardworking person, you had known that from day one and to make sure he won't overwork himself you always tried to help him.

"You're too kind you know" Josh chuckled as the two of you were carrying a few packages to a room he had rented out for the video. "I don't mind helping you, you know that" you smiled at him and placed the cardboard box down.

Josh did the same and looked at you with more of a serious expression "It's still very nice of you. I appreciate it". Your heart melted slightly at his confession, "Well what can I say? I guess, I do it out of love" as you let out a light giggle you saw his heart-eyes mirror yours.

He was just about to say something when Ethan and Harry entered the room with loud laughter announcing their arrival. After all of you had said your hellos you and Josh continued setting up the set while Ethan and Harry started laughing at their inside joke once again.

While you were setting up one of the cameras while crouching down, you didn’t notice one of the heavy speaker poles starting to fall down. Josh saw the pole falling from the other side of the room, but before he could even warn you the pole came in sudden contact with your head and right shoulder.

As your vision went dark and your body went limp Josh caught you just in time before you head hit the concrete floor. “Y/N!!” he shook your body in a frantic motion and immediately searched for any blood. “What happened!?” Harry asked in worry as the other two had also heard Josh’s panic.

“The fucking speaker pole fell on her head” Josh cursed and tried to wake you by slapping your face with low force. As you weren’t waking up the three men were starting to panic even more. Ethan took a deep breath to calm himself and asked: “Should-Should I call the ambulance?”.

Even though he was left without an answer because the others did not know what to do either Ethan took out his phone. Just as he was about to dial the number you opened your eyes slowly. “Ah fuck” you mumbled as your head and shoulder were hurting like hell.

Everyone sighed in brief relief. "Oh God. Where does it hurt? Are you bleeding?" Josh rambled, frantically checking your head for obvious injuries. "My head, shoulder" you mumbled still confused.

"Should I call the ambulance?"

"Yes, right now!"

"Do we have anything cold to put on her head"

"There was a cooler in the back"

"I'll get it!"

Multiple voices were speaking around whilst the pain was slowly starting to disappear. "What happened?" You asked Josh as he gently hugged you to his chest. "A speaker pole fell on your head" Josh answered and softly stroked the side of your head that had been untouched.

Ethan's home started ringing for the ambulance when you came to your sense. "Don't call em. I'm fine" you quickly said. Everyone went silent, but soon Josh argued.

"No no you could be seriously hurt"

"I am fine I swear, the pain is going away quickly"

"But what if-"

"I am fine, really. Let's not waste their time when others could need it"

Harry came running with an ice pack and handed it to Josh. As he held the pack to your head you managed to convince him that your fine. But the uneasy look never faded.

"I am really sorry. You were here only here to help me and now you got hurt", Josh's eyes were filled with quilt.

"It was just an accident"

"You still got hurt. I was so worried when you collapsed, my heart missed like a ton of beats"

"I am sorry. But I am alright."

"Nah, you could've been seriously hurt, like seriously hurt."

You hugged him closer to you and whispered to reassure him, "I'm fine". Josh smiled, his mind and heart starting to calm down from the shock and worry. "Everything is alright, you are just overworrying a little" you continued, letting out a light chuckle. "Maybe, just maybe. I guess I do it out of love".

‎

Thank you for reading!! I hope u have an amazing day / night 💕 !!!

#sidemen imagines #sidemen x reader #sidemen imagine #josh bradley #josh bradley x reader #w2s x reader #miniminter x reader #sidemen x platonic!reader #zerkaa x reader #zerkaa #ethan payne x reader

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jcbbby · 9 months

Text

Preacher's Girl

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, don't fucking look at me right now (especially if you're Jamie...) I know I will not see the gates of heaven for this. anyway... hello, it has been a minute since I wrote a thing. this is a fic centered on Jamie's Preacher character from the I Am music video. and I'm just gonna leave it at that. also this is not proofread!

warnings: 18+ ONLY I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BLOCK YOU DNI, preacher!Jamie x oc, p in v, unprotected sex (DON'T do it), religious imagery and themes, breeding kink if you squint sort of, also kind of a slow burn at first?

***** Cicadas droned outside through the open windows, loud enough to cut through the sound of the quiet chatter amongst the crowd mixed with the whipping of the little old ladies fluttering their hand fans. Ivy stared out of the open window of the sweltering church, trying to zone out to forget where she was. On the eager request of her grandparents and the encouragement of her mother, she agreed to spend the summer with them in their rural Alabama town. It was a much different pace of life out here compared to the bustling city life she was used to.

Her grandparents were old-fashioned, and very religious; something she never seemed to inherit. Her mother had moved out to the east coast to get away from that culture, opting for a more exciting and open-minded life. So, when she seemed to agree that a summer away in the quiet southern state would be good for Ivy, she was shocked.

“It will give you some nice perspective!” She said. “Plus, your grandparents won’t be here forever, you should cherish the time you have left with them.”

Her mother wasn’t wrong, but that did little to ignite any semblance of excitement over the thought. What was there to do in rural Alabama for a young woman from the city? Still, with her sweet old Nana and Pop eager to host their darling granddaughter, she begrudgingly said yes, soon finding herself in the sticky, thick, hazy summer air of the south. Arriving on a Saturday, of course their plan was to get an early night in so they could introduce her to everyone at their church in the morning.

The church must have had been built in the 1800s, still lacking almost all modern features. No air conditioning, no bathrooms, and no modern technology, save for a single microphone at the podium, connected to a small PA speaker. Ivy fanned herself with her hand, glancing around to survey the audience while her grandparents conversed with an older couple in front of them in the first row of pews. As she looked around, a hush fell over, and gazes shifted to the front of the church. She snapped her head in the direction of the crowd, a tall, dark figure emerging from the side of the slightly raised stage.

He stepped up to the podium, placing his hands over either side of the edge, clearing his throat before glancing down and taking a breath. He was surprisingly younger than Ivy was expecting and stood tall and slim. His golden chin-length hair neatly descended from under a large brim black hat. He wore a very fitted three-piece black suit and white button-up dress shirt. As he looked out over the crowd of parishioners, he smiled warmly, letting the skin around his eyes crinkling perfectly into what reminded Ivy of sun rays.

“Good morning, everyone.” He spoke in a deep, warm voice. “Thank you for being here with me today. Let us begin.”

Ivy stared in awe. He was breathtaking. She straightened up in her seat as he began speaking his gospel. His words filled the heavy air of the church and she found herself feeling stuck in his honey smooth voice, hanging on to each word he uttered. Never in her life would she have thought she would find herself paying such close attention to a church sermon.

He moved his gaze in her direction, momentarily locking eyes with her as she felt her cheeks grow hot. Ivy shifted in her seat, darting her eyes down to his shoes. When she dared to glance back up, he was still looking directly at her. He flashed a gentle smirk to her before breaking away. Ivy let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, feeling a shiver run throughout her body. There was something somewhat devious about that smirk. Maybe there would be some excitement this summer in this dirt road town.

*****

Once the service had ended, the church was hosting a start of the summer lunch reception at the community center just down the road. Of course, Ivy’s grandparents were keen to go. This was a town where everyone knew everyone, community events were obligatory at best. She let out a sigh of relief upon walking through the double metal doors of the community center, feeling the breeze of air conditioning hitting her damp face. She followed closely behind her grandparents as they made their way to the table of various foods, mostly homemade.

“I’m going to just go get us a table, I’m not that hungry.” Ivy tapped her grandmother’s shoulder.

“Oh, honey bee, you really oughtta eat something or else you’ll get sick! Here, you’ve got to try Darlene’s biscuits at least!” She handed Ivy a dense golden biscuit.

“Oh…okay, thanks nana.” Ivy forced a smiled before turning to take stock of open seats.

As she sat down, she looked around the large room, hoping to spot the preacher who had her so enamored. She scanned the perimeter, eyes narrowing.

“Well, it seems we have a visitor today.” An oaky voice came from behind her. She turned to see him standing there, the preacher, towering over her. “May I?” He gestured to the seat next to her.

“Of course.” She smiled politely.

He took off his hat, placing it gently on the table in front of him. He smoothed back his hair with one hand, looking to Ivy to reveal his enchanting ice blue eyes.

“Does our visitor have a name?” He smiled.

“I’m Ivy. Uh, I’m Dale and Irene’s granddaughter.” She returned the polite smile, hoping he didn’t notice the quick up and down she gave him or the rosy tint to her cheeks.

“Oh, how nice. Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Jamie, just Jamie, I don’t do the fancy clergy title. Pleasure to meet you.” He winked, extending his hand out to her.

“Nice to meet you too.” She met his hand with hers.

“Oh, good! You’ve met Jamie!” Ivy’s grandmother set her plate down on the table, sinking down into her seat.

“Hello Irene, lovely to see you.” He smiled. “Dale.” He nodded and reached to shake his hand as well. “I was just telling Ivy here that I had heard so much about her from you two, it’s nice to finally meet her.” He looked back to Ivy with a grin.

“Oh, well we’re just so happy to have her here. She’s staying for the summer with us.” Irene beamed.

“Is that so?” Jamie’s voice lilted. “Well, it will be so great to see another pretty face around town for a while.” He winked, facing Ivy so the elder couple wouldn’t notice. Ivy’s heart thumped against her chest. “Well, I’ll let you all be, I’m sure you’ve got things to catch up on. Great to have you with us, Miss Ivy.” Jamie reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips to give a gentle kiss.

“Uh…just Ivy.” She grinned. “Y-yes. It’s great to be here. Thank you.”

Jamie picked up his hat from the table, setting back on his head. He gave Ivy one final look before turning to greet those at the next table over. Ivy bit her lip as she glanced at the hand he had kissed, taking in a breath. His charm was unrelenting, and it knocked the wind clear out of her. She stared, thoughts racing through her mind, as he greeted some other parishioners. Her grandfather’s voice managed to pull her out of her trance, her attention snapping back to the elder.

“Such a nice fella, that one. All the folks around here love him.” Her grandfather said through a mouthful of food. “We were a little wary when he came to replace old Father Wilkins after he died, what with him being so young and all. But I gotta say he’s a real man of faith.”

“How long has he been in town?” Ivy asked.

“Oh I’d say about a year or so now. Said he came from the west, out in the desert, I think. The town’s really taken to him though, you’d think he was a southern boy from the start if it wasn’t for that accent.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, he seems…really friendly.” Ivy turned to look at him conversing with a couple, not much older than she was. She certainly wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but part of her wondered just how friendly he could get.

*****

Over the following few weeks, Ivy found herself looking forward to Sunday services. Each time she attended church, her eyes would seek out Jamie, and he would reciprocate with small glances and smiles. The innocent exchanges gave her butterflies, and she often caught herself daydreaming about him during the weekdays. Perhaps riding around in the old beat-up truck he drove around, windows down, hands intertwined over the center console; relaxing in the shade under the willow tree down by the pond behind the old mill.

But some nights, alone in her room after her grandparents had gone to sleep, she found herself even fantasizing about Jamie. Though she wasn’t religious herself, there was something so guilty about thinking of a man of the church in this way. He was probably pure, saving himself for marriage. Still, Ivy couldn’t help but sense something hidden under his holy exterior. There was something hidden, and the intrigue consumed her.

The two hadn’t shared more than a few cordial words each weekend, between the glances, though. She was beginning to wonder if she had just been completely misreading things through the rose-colored glasses of her own desires.

One Sunday after the service, Jamie stood in the doorway of the church bidding his congregation goodbye as they shuffled out into the bright midday humidity.

“Irene, Dale, Ivy.” He smiled and nodded politely as they passed by him. “Oh, Ivy!” He followed.

“Yes?” She replied, stopping to turn around.

“I’m wondering if you might be interested in volunteering for the end of summer fair that we’re putting on for the kids next weekend. We could really use an extra set of hands, if you’re able.” He smiled.

“Oh, how fun! Ivy would love to help out, wouldn’t you honey bee?!” Irene excitedly grabbed her arm.

Ivy looked between Irene and Jamie. “Uh…yeah, sure. I can help.” She pushed a smile.

Jamie stood up straighter, flashing a toothy grin. “Wonderful. It’s appreciated. We’re having a volunteer meeting with everyone helping on Wednesday night at 7pm, if you can make it.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll be there.”

He tipped his hat to her. “See you then.”

While Ivy somewhat begrudgingly agreed, she was excited at the opportunity to spend more time with the intriguing preacher during her final week here. She didn’t expect much, but at least she would be able to be around him, drinking in the sight of his tall figure and wonderfully sculpted face.

*****

The Wednesday meeting arrived, going as one would typically expect. The logistics and volunteer duties and assignments were discussed, the timeline, a question-and-answer portion. Jamie dismissed the volunteers, thanking them for their time commitment and willingness to assist.

“Ivy, would you mind hanging back a minute. There’s something I forgot to go over with you.” Jamie called out from his seat as the small group filed down the aisle.

Ivy turned around, letting a few others walk by her on either side. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit.” Jamie gestured to the pew in front of him.

She complied, coming to sit down. As the last person went out the door, it closed behind them with a click that echoed throughout the room. Jamie got up from his chair on the platform, coming down to the pew where Ivy sat and sitting beside her. She felt her breathing pick up slightly, his cologne enveloping the air around her.

Jamie turned to her. “Ivy, I’ve noticed something has been weighing on you.”

Her stomach dropped. He had noticed the way she had been looking at him and the blushing when he glanced back at her after all. She felt his hand rest on her thigh, drawing her out of her own mind and thoughts. She looked down to her lap and then back up to him. His eyes were dark and suggestive.

“Have you had…sinful thoughts?” He asked calmly.

Swallowing hard, Ivy paused, opening her mouth to speak but having no earthly idea of how to respond. She resolved to a shallow nod, darting her eyes anywhere but to his, unsure of how honest she could be with him. Her mind reeled, caught between the boundaries of his position and her own suppressed desires. Jamie nodded back to her, looking forward and letting his gaze wander.

“I have to admit…” He turned his gaze now to her. “I have too.”

Ivy’s heart was in her throat. “Oh?” Was all she could manage to squeak out, the warmth of his hand still radiating through the fabric of her sundress. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing against her earlobe.

“Will you hear my confession?” He whispered.

She turned to him, their faces mere centimeters from each other. “Y-yes…”

He met her eyes with his own. “Those thoughts have been about you.” He said in a hushed tone, his thumb beginning to caress where it rested on her thigh.

A mix of shock and excitement washed over Ivy, burning itself all the way down to her core. She hadn't expected him to be so candid and so forward. She found herself still speechless, never having thought her desires would be equally reciprocated. After a beat, she found her voice.

"Is...is that even allowed?" She whispered, concerned about a faith she didn't even fully understand. “I thought that god-“

"Do you even believe in god?" Jamie interrupted, his tone genuine.

Ivy hesitated before admitting, "No, I don’t…"

Jamie smirked. "Then don't worry about it." He said, leaning closer, his other hand coming to grip her chin. "You don't have to pretend to be so innocent then, do you, my little lamb?"

“I…” She started to reply before his hand on her thigh ventured deeper between her legs. Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the panties that were already wet with her neediness.

“What, you what?” He cooed, still holding her chin tightly with his other hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” She breathed. “I want you to touch me. Please.”

She felt his lips crash against hers, like a man starved. He released her chin, slinking his hand around her neck and up the back of her head. She quickly adjusted herself, swinging her leg over his to sit on his lap, straddling him.

“Not so timid anymore it seems.” Jamie pulled back, smirking.

“I just said I don’t believe in god, I’m going to hell anyway, I might as well enjoy myself along the way.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I can give you something to believe in.” In a swift motion, Jamie slipped his hands under Ivy’s thighs, lifting her up as he stood up.

He walked them both towards the platform, stepping up, and pressing her back against the wall, just under a large wooden cross. Her legs stayed wrapped around his waist, hands rustling through his golden hair. His lips furiously pressed against hers, tongue and teeth coming together in a raw passion. His mouth ventured down to her neck, nipping and suckling just under her ear as Ivy let out a gentle whimper. She felt his length hardening against her inner thigh, making her need for him grow stronger.

“Are you gonna fuck me right here under this cross?” She breathed.

Jamie abruptly stopped, pulling back to look her in the eye. He let her legs fall individually and took half a step back. Ivy furrowed her brow, confused. She wondered if he had suddenly had a change of heart, or if he realized how sacrilegious this all was.

“Hey.” He said sternly. “We’re in a church. You should know you can’t use that language in the house of the lord.”

“Oh, uh-“

“You know you have to be punished.” He smirked wickedly, stepping backward again.

Ivy’s blood pumped furiously through her veins, excitement overtaking her. This was undoubtedly so wrong, but so thrilling. He glanced to the lectern, where a thick bible sat neatly on top. He took it in his hand, turning back to Ivy. He pulled the chair on the platform closer to him, taking a seat and patting his lap.

“Come on.” He gestured. “Bend over, take your punishment.”

Ivy hesitantly made her way over to Jamie, slowly sinking herself lower and folding herself over his lap. Her breath was heavy, anticipating. He cleared his throat and reached for the hem of her dress, sliding it slowly upwards, fully revealing her light pink panties. He neatly folded the fabric at the small of her back, gently smoothing it out with minimal pressure.

“Now…” He sighed.

He drew back the hand holding the bible, and with a swift flick of his wrist, the leather-bound cover made sharp, unforgiving contact with Ivy’s supple backside. She let out a shrill yelp as it came down on her flesh, knowing full well this would leave a mark. Without missing a beat, Jamie pulled back and delivered another hard whack to her. Her shriek echoed off the walls of the empty church, this rap stinging worse than the first one on her already red skin. Tears began to well in the corner of her eyes.

“P-please…I’m sorry.” She whimpered softly.

“What was that, my little lamb?” He reached with his other hand to softly stroke her hair, countered quickly with a third strike of the bible.

Ivy tensed up over his lap, crying out again. “I’m sorry!”

Jamie continued petting her head, now resting his other hand and the book on her back. He leaned down closer to her ear, smiling softly. “Will you be good for me now?”

Ivy took in a shattered breath. “Yes... Yes, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good girl.” Jamie whispered. “Now, sit up…”

Ivy did as she was told, peeling her torso off his lap only to swing her leg over and straddle him once again. She sniffled lightly as she looked at him directly again, eyes still slightly glossy from her punishment. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“To answer your question from before…” He began. “Yes, I am going to fuck you right here under this cross. I am going to show god that you’re mine.”

Before Ivy could respond, his lips were already pressing hungrily into hers. He began to trail down her jaw and on to her neck, suckling hard enough to make sure he would leave his mark. She reached between both of their bodies, undoing the button and zipper of his pants just enough to free his hardened length. She took him in her hand and stroked him slowly, a low groan emanating from his throat. His hot breath against her skin made her already desperate core throb, she felt as though she could combust at any moment.

With his lips still exploring her neck and collarbone, he moved to quickly lower the straps of her dress, letting them fall to her elbows. He tugged at the top hem of the dress, letting her chest reveal itself, spilling out over the fabric. His mouth made quick work of enveloping her nipple in its warmth, drawing out a pleasured sigh from Ivy. She began to grind against his thigh, hoping for some sense of relief.

“Come on, then.” She breathed. “Make me yours. Take me.”

Jamie let out a breathy chuckle, removing her hands from his cock, slipping his hands under her dress and under the elastic of her panties. She rested her wrists on his shoulders, staring down as he pushed the fabric aside, gently pushing her upward to angle his tip at her entrance. She gasped as she sunk down slowly, feeling the stretch of him inside. He let out a groan as Ivy now fully enveloped in, her weight fully back on his lap. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his briefly before closing the gap between their lips. Her hips rocked forward, his hands gripping her hips to help her along. Suddenly, he pulled back.

“Say it, before god, say that you’re mine.” He growled, rocking his hips in rhythm with hers. “I don’t care what you believe in, you’re going to believe in me. Say it.”

“I-I’m yours!” Ivy mewled. “I’m yours.” She fell forward against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, you’re my good girl. My good girl.” He growled again into her neck.

The two of them clung to each other, the space around them filled with their moans and breathing, the aggressive creaking of the wooden chair they were occupying. If the church hadn’t been the only building on its acre of land, someone would have heard them through the open windows.

A gentle breeze made its way through the large hall, raising goosebumps across their sticky, shiny skin, covered in the humid dew of the south. Their movements were in perfect sync, each one locked into the other’s body, as if they were a symbiotic pair; as if they were to lose contact, their bodies would shrivel up and wither away into the wind.

“Look at me.” Jamie whispered. “I want you to look at me as I finish in you. As I claim you.”

Ivy pulled back to look at him, arching her back as she did. “Yes, Jamie…please…let god know I’m yours.” She sighed, digging her nails into his shoulders.

His thrusts became more haphazard, and his grunts frequent. Ivy rolled her hips along with him, the pressure building throughout her core, sensing the euphoria just over the horizon. As if it were a divine purpose, she slipped over the edge just as Jamie spilled out inside her. Ivy fell forward again, burying her face in his neck as she rode out her high, as Jamie wrapped his arms tightly around her. They slowly came to a still, only the sound of their heavy breathing and birds singing outside the church walls filling their ears along with low ringing.

As their senses came back to them, they relaxed their hold on the other. Ivy pulled back from the crook of Jamie’s neck, smoothing her damp hair out of her face. He smiled softly up at her, taking her chin in his hand again, only this time pulling her tenderly toward him to place a gentle kiss to her lips.

“How are you doing, little lamb?” He asked sweetly, his voice no longer gruff and demanding, but kind and warm.

“I’m…feeling saved.” She smiled.

He chuckled lightly as he caressed her cheek. “Oh, is that all it takes?”

Ivy slid herself off his lap, letting him tuck himself back in to his trousers. “You said you’d make a believer out of me. I definitely believe in a lot more than I did before I came here.” She winked.

“Well…you have a few days left here. I can certainly give you a lot more to believe in, darling.” He smirked at her as he stood up, reaching out his hand, silently asking for hers.

Ivy smiled, glancing between his eyes and his hand.

“I’m all yours.”

#jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower rpf #preacher!Jamie #jamie campbell bower x oc #jamie campbell bower fanfic #bat coven llc #i can't even tag this as just jamie campbell bower because who knows if he searches his own tags....

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heartbreakgrill · 4 months

Text

Delicate Vessel (Sleep Token): Pt 4; “We can’t make any promises…”

“Daisy.”

Time felt like it was frozen.

My eyelids were heavy, vision dark beneath their shadow. At the sound of my name, I took a deep, anticipatory breath, chest sinking at its exhale. I struggled to open my eyes because I was so entranced in this moment, this sweet moment. After another slow breath, I came to, like I was dipping my head above water.

Oliver looked down at me, a heaviness sitting in his gaze, as if he had been running for miles and was just not finding rest at my hips. “Daisy,” he said, the corners of his slickened lips rising into the hollows of his cheeks. “Darling.”

I grinned up at him, one hand clutching the front of his hoodie and the other tangled with his hair at the nape of his skull. I didn’t know what to say. What to do. This was…uncharted territory. And the way he had just kissed me? I was beyond speechless. My brain felt dizzy. My heart rammed against my ribs.

I was on cloud nine, with no ladder back down to Earth.

“Darling,” Oliver whispered again, brushing his thumb against the apple of my cheek. His eyes drug themselves across my face, down my figure, back up to my own stare. “You are so beautiful.”

“Really?” I huffed out without really meaning to. I knew he thought I was attractive. He’d gotten a boner because of me dancing just last week. It made sense to my brain that he’d want to kiss because he wanted to fuck me. And, I remembered that first night up on the roof, he had complimented me. But, that hadn’t meant anything. That was a mindless compliment to flatter me upon first impressions.

This confession meant something else. It meant something…different. Better. More.

Oliver wanted to kiss me because he thought I was beautiful.

His brows furrowed for just the flicker of a moment, “Gorgeous.”

“I…” my eyes fell back down to his lips. The compliment, the way his eyes bore into my own, it made my mind wander.

Oliver didn’t let me struggle in the silence for too long. He leaned his head back down and took my lips into his again. I pushed my chest up against his, craving every inch of him that I could possibly consume. I swear to God I heard him sigh into my mouth, but I couldn’t exactly pin my mind on any singular, conscious thought.

If Oliver hadn’t noticed the door opening down the hall, then we would have been screwed. But, he did. And, as he pulled us inside the alcove of Sam and I’s hotel door, I finally registered Adam and Cyrus’ voices approaching us.

Oliver pressed his back against the wall and he turned his head as we anticipated their passing. He was clutching my hand, his fingers entwined with my own. I stared down at the chain connecting us. I couldn’t really be concerned about the danger when his touch was so warm. The spots on my body where he had once been were now cool, a nippy reminder of the fire he had sparked on me.

As Adam and Cyrus approached, I finally looked up from our hands. Oliver glanced at me, brows furrowed worriedly. I bit down onto my bottom lip like an anchor. Maybe they would just turn around, go back to their room? I considered dragging Oliver into the room behind us, but that would wake Sam. And that was a much bigger problem than the one at hand. He would throw a bitch fit if he somehow found out Oliver had so much as lingered a gaze across my skin.

No matter how hard I tried to manifest that Adam and Cy would b-line for their room, they were beginning to walk past us. Oliver quickly let go of my hand, shot across to the other side of the alcove from me. He leaned, casually, against it, hood somehow back up over his head again.

I crossed my arms over my body, face scrunched up as I tried to communicate with Oliver. What do we say?!

He shook his head, lips pressed together. “It’s okay,” he mouthed. Then, his eyes shot over to Adam and Cyrus.

Neither of them even turned to look at us. They were walking right past, caught up in a conversation about some video game. Cyrus, closest to us, glanced behind him just before they were out of sight. I felt my heart sink to my knees as I braced for impact.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he sent a wave over his shoulder. Adam looked at who he was talking to and smiled at Oliver and I.

Oliver nodded his head, looking away from them. I waved, an overly-enthusiastic smile on my lips. “Hey,” I breathed out. It sounded like I had no air in my lungs, like someone was choking me. But, I hoped they wouldn’t notice.

If they had, they just didn’t care.

We waited until we heard the elevator doors slide close, Adam and Cyrus’ voices disappearing behind its steel doors, before we even looked at each other again. I pursed my lips, nose scrunched, eyes squinted, as I waited for Oliver to start freaking out or something. He didn’t want anyone to know we hung out- that was made obvious to me that first morning at breakfast. I hadn’t expected that to change just because he thought I was cute.

So, I expected him to get all bent out of shape over what had just happened. Instead, he let out a deep breath, a playful grin overcoming his expression.

“Those two are dopey as fuck,” he chuckled slighty, stepping towards me. “I should’ve known they wouldn't say anything.”

My head leaned back as he towered over me, my expression shifting into one of confusion. “You’re not worried?”

Oliver touched my chin, tilting my head back more, “If they suspect anything, I’ll cover us, darling. Besides, they’ve been pushing me to talk to you more. Don't you worry your pretty little head.”

I smiled, a blush rising to my face in response to his words. “Okay…” my voice trailed off as Oliver leaned in again. He pressed his lips to mine in a shallow, slow kiss. My eyes fell shut, one hand coming to rest against his chest, the other between my back and the wall as I balanced there. I felt like I could sink into the floor.

But, Oliver was holding me by the hip again. We were falling into each other, completely taken by the moment again. Then, another door, somewhere down the hall, was thrown open. We snapped apart. A set of voices followed our fright, some foreign language neither of us knew rambling between the two.

I met Oliver’s eyes, giggles shaking my shoulders. He relaxed slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe we should get out of the hallway,” he breathed out.

I brushed my hair behind my ears as I spoke through my laughter, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Would you wanna…” our chuckles fell off as he began the question, “my room? Would that be okay?”

I just grinned at him, nodding too eagerly, “That would be perfect.”

Oliver offered me that sweet smile I felt so lucky to be the cause of, and held out his hand. I took it and let him lead me to his room. Once inside, the once flushed air turned awkward. I shut the door behind me and followed him into the space, somewhat familiar to me because of my drunken escapade last week. Oliver stopped at the end of his bed and turned to me. He gave an unsure smile when I met his eyes.

I made my way to stand before him, a few feet put inbetween us. Being here, truly alone together, we didn’t know what to do. I knew what I wanted to do, what I wanted him to do. But, I would never make the first move. That just wasn’t me.

Oliver examined my face for a moment. He seemed to relax, lips curling into his uncontainable smile. I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth, grinning, nervously chewing on my lip. Oliver stepped closer. He took my hand, pulling it from where my arms hugged my stomach. The movement tugged me forward. I let my other arm fall to my side before reaching for his shoulder.

Oliver lazily pulled me closer. I moved into him, taking a deep breath before he covered me with his lips and his hands. We just stood there for a while, kissing each other, soaking up the silence. Oliver was hungry, though, and he began to crave more.

His movements became sloppy, harsh. I didn’t mind- it felt good to be so lusted after like I was right now. I would, I decided, do whatever he wanted me to. Here, now in this hotel room, tomorrow, when we leave this country. Wherever, whenever, whatever.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled me into his lap, easily slotting my legs on either side of his thighs.

I held his face between my hands, so delicately, like I was cradling moonlight. His hands came to rest upon my hips as he balanced me on his lap. Oliver’s fingers dipped dangerously low on my body, barely grazing across my pj shorts that were oh so short on me.

I wrestled my fingers into his hair again, quite content to feel the smooth, soft curls on the nape of his neck. He was so…perfect. So beautiful. I kissed him harder. I must have been too excited because I felt his head flinch back when I tugged at his hair again.

Oliver moaned against my lips, squeezing my hips like a warning. “Careful, darling.”

I bit back a teasing smile, flickering my eyes open to see the pleasured expression on his face as I pulled at his hair again. Oliver responded by grabbing my ass, eliciting a gasp from between my lips. He pulled his head back from my lips, meeting my open eyes with a winner’s grin.

“I said careful.”

I chased his lips, wearing my own smile, but he dodged my kiss. “Oliver…” I whined softly.

“Patience,” he tapped his fingers against my ass, “We have so much time. Let me drink you in.”

I blushed for the millionth time at his words, watching his eyes drag down my body. I felt his fingers move against my pj bottoms again. He seemed to tug at the material a bit, ghosting the curves of my thighs.

“These are cute,” he whispered, pulling at the hem. “Little flowers.”

The way his accent rolled the words out from the plate of his tongue tickled goosebumps down my spine. This, combined with his warm hands on my skin, had me shivering.

Oliver looked dazed, lost in the view, as he continued on looking me over. I didn’t know if he wanted to memorize every inch of my skin, or if he was dragging this out to enjoy every second. Either way, the way it made me feel was heavenly.

I twirled a piece of his hair around my fingers, patiently. He finally met my gaze again.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he moved a hand to my cheek and pulled my lips back into his.

I sunk into him again, gripping at his hair so I couldn’t completely lose myself. I was, however, getting lost in him. I ached for him everywhere, in my bones, in my blood, and my hips involuntarily ground down into his. Oliver moaned against my lips. Heat rushed to every crevice of my skin.

I felt his dick harden between my legs, pressing teasingly against me. I rolled my hips again as I chased that pleasurable sensation. Oliver’s hand slid down my chin, fingers coming to a gentle close around my throat. The pads of his digits pressed into my skin.

This drew a whimpering from my lips, one that curled the corners of his lips into a sweet smirk. “You sound so lovely, darling.”

Elated by his praise, I moved my hands to the hem of his hoodie. I tugged up at the bottom and felt the smoothness of his chest beneath my fingertips. Before I could get it over his head, Oliver removed his hands off of me and took my fingers in his hold.

“Easy, Daisy,” Oliver had pulled his face back a few inches.

A sudden rush of nerves rushed into me, bringing me down from the high I had been sitting on. I opened my eyes, ashamedly, meeting his gaze. I took my lip between my teeth immediately in an anxious rumination.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, trying to read his expression. His eyes swam with some sort of hesitance that only clouded into worry when he realized I felt guilty for trying to make such a move.

He let go of my hands, quickly taking a hold of my face. He dipped his head to my level, “No, no, no. It’s okay, darling. You didn’t do anything. It’s just…” Oliver glanced over to the alarm clock on the bedside table, red digits reading an ungodly hour. He looked back at me. “I want you…so badly, Daisy. But I want to take my time with you. I don’t want to rush it. I want…as long as possible. Can we raincheck? Would that be okay? For me, darling?”

I was bright red, more than likely hot to the touch. And, I was so beyond flattered and elated by his words that I struggled to come up with something to say. I, instead, nodded slowly. Oliver grinned at my struggling response. He brushed his thumb across my cheek before leaning in to give me another kiss.

My hands found their way back up his arms, swooping across his strong shoulders, until they were back in his hair. Oliver took a gentle hold of my neck again, kissing me like he was going off to war in the morning.

As we both began to pull away, his tenderness quickly snapped into this tight hold on my throat, forcing my eyes open, keeping my head steady so I would look directly- obediently- at him. His eyes were darker now, lusted over by his seduction, “Do not leave here thinking that I said no to you because I do not want you. Do you understand me?”

I moved my chin to nod, signaling my comprehension of what felt somewhat like a threat in the most appealing way.

He squeezed my throat for just a moment which straightened the angle of my head, “Ah- use your words, darling. Tell me that you understand me. Say…”

He raised his brows. I parted my lips, managing to respond, “I-I understand.”

“Say it…you know I want you. You know I want to fuck you.”

“You want to fuck me,” my eyes had gone wide, dazed. And my mouth was dry. I darted my tongue out to lick my lips and Oliver followed the movement closely with his eyes.

“Hm,” he squinted his lids in a satisfied manner, “Good girl. I can’t wait to take my time with you, darling. Slow and sweet.”

My fingers curled into his neck. I wanted- needed- friction and almost gave in, almost ground my hips into his. But, I knew it would do neither of us any good. I wanted what he wanted- to really enjoy what had been building up for a few weeks now. Tonight was not the night for that. We had to be on the bus in just a few hours to travel all the way down to Rome.

So, I resisted the urge, the craving pulsating in my veins.

Oliver loosened his hold on my throat. He slid his hands back to my face, cradling it with a sweet smile on his face. “I’ll walk you back to your room, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I chased his lips, satisfied that he gave me a kiss so easily.

Oliver helped me to my feet. He held open the hotel room door for me, before following me out into the small alcove. We peered around both corners and made sure no one was coming from either direction. Then, we darted just outside Sam and I’s door. Oliver caught up to me quickly, grabbing me by the waist and flipping me around. He pressed my back into the door.

I giggled at his sleight of hand, bracing my hands on his chest. Oliver shushed me gently as he leaned down. His nose nuzzled into the curve of my jaw, tickling me, only encouraging more laughter from my throat.

“Oliver!” I let out a strained squeal as he proceeded to nip at my neck. “You want me to be quiet, you have to stop!”

“Oh, but, darling,” he moved his lips to my ear, taking my lobe, just above where my earlobes were clasped, in between his teeth. “I want you loud.”

I smacked his chest playfully. He leaned back, receiving a pointed finger from me, a scolding in my eyes, “You can’t say things like that. Not when we’re out in the open like this. Not when I can’t even do anything about it!”

“Patience, Daisy,” he said my name again like some prayer. “I promise I’ll make all your suffering worth it. Just like I know you will mine. After all, you were the one pressing up against me in the cab.”

I dropped my jaw, “Hey! That’s not fair! You were the one being an ass and then getting a boner the second I changed out of sweatpants!”

“I know, I know,” he rolled his eyes in a teasing manner. Then, he pressed his lips to my cheek lovingly, “I’m sorry. We can talk about it later, when I am more awake, when I can give you a proper apology. Yeah?”

I tugged him impossibly closer by the front of his hoodie, “Yeah.”

“Okay,” he kissed me, “Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

–

“You’ve never seen Star Wars?!?!”

It was far too early for Max’s copious amounts of energy.

I flinched at his exclamatory question, my expression twisting into some sort of stunned, exhausted, confused face. “Huh?” was all I could muster, my bottom lip hung open.

Max rolled his eyes and further pushed to the edge of his seat. His large palms were held open, offensively, “Star Wars. Jedi, the Force, Princess Leia’s golden bikini, light sabers. You know, one of the greatest movie franchises- of all time?! You’ve never seen it? How can you even be remotely related to Sam if you’ve never seen Star Wars?”

“She’s too girly for Star Wars,” Sam shook his head from his seat across Max. He shuffled the deck of cards the two men had been wearing out this entire tour.

I crinkled my nose, “You can’t be too girly for something, dickhead. I’ve just never been interested in watching it.”

“She was too busy watching My Little Pony and playing with her Barbie dolls to really appreciate George Walton Lucas, Jr.”

I picked up a throw pillow sitting beside me on the bus’ couch and hurtled it towards my brother. Because he was facing sideways from me, he didn’t see it. It smacked him in the face. He hissed at the impact, barely hurtful to his strong demeanor, and shot me a glare.

I flipped him off, beyond grumpy because of my lack of sleep. “Literally anyone can play with Barbie dolls and still like stuff like Star Wars. You’re being kind of misogynistic.”

“Yeah, you are,” Ronnie spoke up from the other couch, across from me. She set down her magazine, eyeing my brother, “Talk about tone deaf.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder at her. He huffed, clutching his cards, “It’s just a joke, guys. C’mon!”

I knew my brother wasn’t sexist. He was just…a man. A straight white man who couldn’t really help being a little prejudiced sometimes. I always called him out on it and, over the years, he had improved some of his skewed world views. This was another one that I had been working on- his incessant opinion that we had both been gendered growing up. Sure, I was a feminine woman, but because of that, Sam felt I couldn’t be complex and like masculine-oriented things, like Star Wars or, ya know, metal music. I think it didn’t help that we were siblings. Those interests were his.

Ronnie’s help would have been appreciated long before today because, for some reason, all she had to do was glare at Sam and say, “Don’t be a cuck.”

And, then, my brother was apologizing to me. In his own brotherly way.

“Daz, it’s not that you could’t like Star Wars. You were just too involved with your own stuff to give it a chance. Sorry,” he looked away from me when the word fell through his lips.

I furrowed my brows, deeply confused, yet satisfied by his apology. “...Thank you. I mean, you’re right. But, I have wanted to watch them. Give ‘em a chance.”

“Then, it’s settled,” Max tossed his pile of cards down onto the table before him, “we are having a movie day. Lemme text the boys and see if they wanna join.”

“Any chance you guys can join them?” Ronnie inquired. “Sam and I wanted to play a game on the tv today.”

I looked between each member of the conversation, eyes lingering slightly on my brother and the boys’ manager. Sam met Ronnie’s eyes and seemed to read something there that no one else could quite see. I scrunched my brows again, tilted my head to the side. Curious.

Max, who had pulled his phone from his back pocket to start texting- I assumed- Adam and Cy, paused and looked up, “Hm? Oh, I mean…is that okay with you, Daz? Watch on their bus?”

It took me a moment to catch Max’s gaze, too focused on my brother, but I replied, “Yeah. I don’t mind. But, I might fall asleep at some point.”

“No worries,” Max waved me off. “We’ll switch next stop.”

The next stop was two hours later, in some random Italian town. The buses gassed up, Ronnie and I ventured into the station for some snacks. When inside, away from the prying ears of the boys’, my curiosity got the better of me.

“So, Ronnie,” I leaned up against the drink cooler beside the one she was looking at. I tried not to be creepy about my investigation, but I was too tired to play it cool.

She raised her brows expectantly, eyeing me from the side, “Yeah, Daz?”

“I’m just curious- you have anybody special in your life?” I shrugged, bottom lip jutted out in a I’m-totally-laid-back kind of manner.

Ronnie let the cooler door fall shut as her eyes narrowed slightly. As hard as her exterior was, I was very good at reading people. I saw her face flicker, with some sort of deception, “No. Why?”

“Like I said, just curious,” I waved her off, “I have some cute friends from college you might be int-”

“No, thanks,” she gave me a strained smile and b-lined away from me. I watched her back retreat, satisfied with the way she reacted.

So, something was definitely going on here.

Max was gracious enough to take my pillow, blanket, and book bag to the boys’ bus without me having to ask him. It was a pleasant surprise when I headed out from the station and Max waved me over to the other vehicle, cradling my items in his hands. I bid Ronnie farewell and she shot me a humored, “Good luck.”

As I approached Max, I gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks for grabbing that.”

“The sooner we get you on this bus, the sooner we can change your life,” Max rushed out, hurrying me up the steps.

I nearly stumbled over my feet, but managed to make it up inside the bus in one piece. “Oh- okay!” I breathed out.

Max stepped past me, carefully laying my pillow and blanket down on the couch in a folded pile. He abandoned my back pack on the floor, quickly making his way to the television to grab the remote control. I watched him for a moment, overwhelmed by his energy. Then, I turned my attention to Cy and Adam, who were both sitting on the other couch.

I offered up a smile, greeting them with, “Good morning, guys,” as I took a seat with my things.

“Morning, Daz,” Adam waved back.

Cy had a drum pad sitting on his lap and he focused on practicing some rhythms. He spared me a kind smile and said, “Hello.”

I situated my pillow against the armrest of the couch before laying back against it. Then, I spread my blanket overtop of me. I had my legs bent, knees close to my chest, to save room for Max, who was getting the movie booted up. After he finished, he rushed over to me. He didn’t take his eyes off the movie as he lifted up my legs and pulled them across his lap. My heart nearly melted at his loving gesture. Put aside his silly flirtations- Max was quickly becoming like a big brother to me.

Now that I was comfortable, the exhaustion of the past 12 hours began sinking back in. On top of getting up early for this travel day, I hadn’t gone to sleep until nearly 3am. Oliver and I’s encounter lasted a while longer than I thought. By the time I laid down, it was 3am. And we were due on the bus by 6.

I hadn’t seen Oliver since it happened, either. He must’ve managed to sneak onto this bus before I’d boarded mine. And it wasn’t like we’d text each other. I think Sam had sent me a notes app file with every important phone number I’d need over this summer trip, but I wasn’t going to go out of my way to message him. What would I ever say? Hey, had fun sitting in your lap last night, let’s do it again sometime! Or, hey why the fuck did you treat me like shit for the first few weeks of this tour and then suddenly you want to fuck me? Get real.

I wanted answers, of course. But, more than anything else, I wanted his hands on my body. He made me feel a way I hadn’t before- probably ever in my life. And we’d only just kissed. Everything about him was entrancing, from his words, to his lips, to his smile. I wanted to know every inch of his skin and every corner of his mind.

I didn’t know if I was entitled to that. If he’d ever give me that. Because I didn’t know what he wanted from me.

What did I want?

I realized I should probably ask myself that question. It didn’t matter what he wanted from me- I could not live my life trying to fit myself into the molds that people made for me. No, I could only be what I wanted- do what I wanted.

And I wanted…What, exactly?

My last few relationships hadn’t exactly gone well. From one failed long term relationship, to the next, I had jumped around a few times, from loser man to loser man. Not only did they provide me with loads of trauma, but they also sucked in bed. So, between having poor trust issues when it came to commitment and unsatisfied sexual urges- I didn’t really think I was looking for anything too serious. That was probably for the best, considering me and Oliver’s position.

Maybe we could just be, like, fuck buddies? I could learn to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in my ribcage when he’d say my name.

Right?

This was for the best.

Adam was only half-paying attention, scrolling lazily on his phone. Cyrus continued practicing on his drum pad. It nearly lulled me to sleep just ten minutes into the movie, but I tried to stay awake for Max. He kept looking over at me with an excited grin. I fought back yawns and sleepy stretches. But, I knew I wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

Once my brain quieted down from the noise that was Oliver, about an hour into the movie, I dozed off. When I woke up, the ending credits were playing. I shook myself awake, pushing up off the couch, so I was sitting up more.

Max tore his eyes off the television once he felt me moving around. He looked back at me with a gentle smile, “Morning, angel.”

“I’m so sorry,” I pressed a hand over my mouth as I yawned, “I didn’t mean to doze off. I wanted to watch the movie with you guys.”

Max patted my calf, “It’s alright. Seems like you need a good rest day. Adam and Cy abandoned us, anyways.”

I glanced to the other couch with a frown, “Aw, no. Now, I feel worse for leaving you all alone to watch the movie.”

“S’okay! Oliver joined me. He makes good company because he doesn’t ever say much,” Max nudged my side with his elbow, playfulness in his eyebrows.

At the sound of that name, I stiffened up a bit. My gaze cast across the room and found the darkly-clad figure seated where Adam and Cy had been. He had his long legs stretched out over the couch, face sunken beneath his hood, one arm bent up underneath his head. I drug my eyes down his body. A familiar warmth bubbled in my chest. He looked so fuckable. I had this thing for laps…And his looked pretty comfy.

Self-conscious, I pushed myself up off the couch more. Oliver didn’t even look over at me and he probably wouldn’t, but I wanted to be sure that if he did, I didn’t look like a mound of flesh and bone. I couldn’t really save my appearance when it came to my outfit and face, which I knew both looked unkempt.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe for the rest of the movie. I tried not to look his way too much, knowing that Max already had cautious suspicions of our interactions. But, he was so invested in the movie, I was sure he wouldn’t even notice if I did. Once the film finally ended, Max shot up from the couch to load the next one.

His back was turned to Oliver and I as he switched disks. I spared a glance to Oliver and a rush of heat shot through my body when I found his eyes. He grinned at me.

I flushed, surely bright red, and couldn’t help but smile back. He then glanced to his phone and flicked his head back to me, as if to suggest I pick mine up. I had been too stiff- or passed out- to have even looked at mine in the past three hours. I found it lodged in between my hip and the couch. I hadn’t even noticed the pressure on my waist until now.

I unlocked my phone, expecting to see a text from him, or something of that sort. But, there wasn’t anything. I scrunched my brows at Oliver, mouthing, “What?”

He made sure Max was still distracted before moving his thumbs across his phone screen, “Text me,” he mouthed.

I rolled my eyes at him. Then, I found his number in my saved contacts and typed out a message.

Daisy: you seriously dont have my #? wtf

Oliver: sorry :/ felt awkward asking anyone for it

Daisy: totally kidding, idgaf

Oliver: oh says the creep who already had mine

Daisy: for safety purposes

Oliver: mhm im sure its not because you want to booty call me or smth

Daisy: i dont booty call u freak

Oliver: i dont believe you

Daisy: im not a crusty ass man get real

Humored by the situation, I looked over to see if he had any visible reactions to my messages. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, as though he was biting back a smile.

My phone buzzed as he messaged me, but I was still looking at him. It was a struggled to look away. After a moment too long passed, he looked to see what I was doing. He met my gaze and I swear that a red flush painted his cheeks. I couldn’t look long enough to decide, though, because Max was rushing back over to his seat.

He lifted my legs again, laying them down across his lap, and situated our blanket. As the beginning previews of the DVD began, Max turned to ask me, “What did you think of the first one? I probably should have asked that before I put on the next, but I’m just too excited.”

I didn’t want to break Max’s heart, but I still did not have much interest in the movie series. It could have been because I had been passed out for half of the first movie and then stiff as a board during the second half. So, it was my fault.

I fibbed because I wanted Max to have a good time, “I’m into it. We’re cooking, for sure.”

Oliver laughed from his seat, leaning up to ask. “What?

I was taken aback by the beginnings of this interaction. He never talked to me in front of others, not that he ever spoke to me much at all to begin with. So, it took me a moment to gage my own reaction, process a response. My bottom lip was jutted in slight shock.

Max giggled at his friend’s reaction to my phrasing, confused himself, it seemed, “Cooking?”

I looked at Max with furrowed brows before bringing myself back, glancing between them. “Wha-huh?”

Oliver snickered again, “What the fuck does cooking mean?”

“What do you mean? Cooking? Have you never heard that phrase?” I frowned at their lack of understanding of internet language.

“Never,” Max shook his head.

“God,” I crossed my arms in faux offense, “bunch of grandpas.”

“Hey!” Max shoved my shoulder, only pushing me further into the couch. “We are only, like, ten years older than you.”

“Speak for yourself. Six,” Oliver waved his friend off.

“Kay, but you’re sixty at heart, so…” Max trailed off, lips pursed.

“So, get real,” I mocked Max’s expression.

Max was looking at the television now, so Oliver shot me a playful smile. I flipped him off. He rose his brows at me, then quickly turned his attention to his phone. I tried not to be too eager when I went to grab my own device.

Oliver: careful, darling.dont want to add fuel to the flame

I bit back a taunting smirk, reminded by his message of how much power I had over him, still. More so, now that he knew what I tasted like, what he could do to me in return.

My thumbs moved to their own accord, typing out something I’d probably pay for later…

Daisy: make me.

Before he could even read it, I turned on Do Not Disturb and shoved my phone into my pocket.

His eyes felt like fire on the side of my face.

I would always win this game.

There were literally zero opportunities for us to be alone together on that bus, and I knew it was driving Oliver mad. I refused to text him for the rest of the day and instead found myself drifting in and out of sleep. For a few hours, Max forced me into one of the boys’ bunks, insisting I needed to lay down so my neck wouldn’t break.

When I came back to join all the boys, we only had an hour left on the bus. The sun had already gone down. I was a little disoriented by the sleepiness aching in my bones and the lack of sunlight. So, I waddled to my same spot on the couch like a child, wrapped up in my blanket. When Max saw me coming, he shot up from the couch, having been laying down with his legs stretched out. Oliver was on the other end, by his feet, because Adam and Cy had taken their spots back on the other piece of furniture.

Max patted the spot between him and Oliver, who was scrolling through his phone. I remembered the message I had sent earlier and felt a tiny rush of energy ruffle up under my skin.

“Lay, I just wanna sit,” I waved Max off, tucking my legs up underneath me as I sat down. I was very aware that my thigh and shoulder brushed Oliver’s and so much more aware of the shuddering breath he took when I settled in.

Max thanked me before laying back down, legs stretched out overtop my lap this time. I blocked out the conversation they were all having, dissociating into my own phone. I had a few messages I needed to catch up, some from family members back across the pond, some from friends. A few of my posts on social media, too, had been getting a little more traction because of Sam being tagged in some of them. I tried not to be too chronically online, and only checked social media every once in a while. This was one of those rare moments.

It took Oliver but two seconds to message me again. I had yet to open his text from earlier, nervous though I had been so confident earlier. I took a quiet breath before opening them.

Oliver: is that a promise? Ill hold you to it, gorgeous

Ur lucky were on this bus

Daisy: ur silly

I knew it wasn’t the greatest response, but I still was not used to this kind of talk with someone so close to me. Sure, I'd flirt with men on the internet, but I never met them. Plus, any and all sex I had had so far in my life had been extremely vanilla.

I didn’t know what else to say to him. I was nervous.

Oliver: did i make you uncomfortable?

I tensed up at the message. He was too good at reading people and called my bluff right away, it seems.

Daisy: no no im so sorry

Not at all

Oliver: its okay daisy

Its probably a lot

To go from silence to this

Ill slow down

Daisy: no its totally fine! Promise!

Pls dont slow down

I like it

Oliver: its okay if youre not ready

We dont have to do anything you dont want to

Daisy: i want you though

Oliver: and you have me

But i dont want to rush into things that are that extreme if youre not ready for them

Daisy: im very vanilla

Oliver: thats okay

We’ll get you there, darling

Im patient

Daisy: ive noticed

Its virtuous

Oliver: well i want you

But you matter more than my own desires

And i cannot have you if you are not comfortable

Does that make sense?

Daisy: it does

Its incredibly kind

Thank you

Oliver: (its the bare minimum)

Daisy: i knowwwwwwwwwwwww but still

Shhhhhhhhh

Oliver: you shush sweet girl

you just tell me when somethings too much, okay?

Just talking about it made me feel much better about everything, so I took the opportunity to give him some breadcrumbs. And I enjoyed it when I saw him squirm in his seat, out of the corner of my eye.

Daisy: yes, sir!

Oops 🤷

Oliver: youre such a tease

Daisy: ikr

The conversation sort of dulled out from there. There wasn’t much else to say. And I didn’t know if he wanted me to move our discourse into uncharted territory by asking personal questions.

Besides, we had reached the hotel and were piling off the bus within the next few minutes. Sam and Ronnie were already waiting on the sidewalk, speaking softly to each other about something seemingly unimportant. It was chilly now that the moon had risen. I shivered in my thin sweatpants and wrapped my blanket up around myself more.

“How’d you movie day go?” Ronnie noticed us approaching them and immediately turned away from my brother. I was probably reading into things, but it was almost like they had been passing secrets through their muted whispers.

As we settled before them- me, Max, Adam, Cy, Oliver- I responded, “I might’ve slept through the whole thing?”

“Figures,” Sam snorted, reaching out a large hand to ruffle my hair.

I shoved his arm away, “Oh, shut up. It’s impossible to stay awake in these bus’.”

“No, she’s so right,” Ronnie nodded along. “Speaking of bus’, does everyone have everything they need off of them? They’re just gonna be parked out back. Just wanna make sure.”

I looked around myself, ensuring I had my bag, purse, pillow, and blanket. Though, because I always second guessed my own assurance, I replied, “I think so. But I'm gonna go double check.”

“Pretty sure we’re all good,” Max spoke for him and the boys.

Ronnie nodded between us before I set my things down to move up the steps of our bus. I checked through my bunk and the couch to ensure I had everything. Certain that I did, I joined everyone back on the sidewalk, giving Ronnie a confident thumbs up.

It wasn’t until we had checked in and were heading for the elevators that I realized my phone was missing. Of course it was- I never knew where that thing was.

“Shit,” I cursed, patting my pockets frantically. Max, Cy, Adam, and Ronnie piled into the open doors of the elevator before me.

Sam moved to follow, slotting in beside Ronnie and the wall. He turned back to me when he heard my frantic rustling. “What’s wrong?”

I dropped into a squat, my stuff falling into a pile there. I unzipped my bookbag and began shuffling through it. Glancing up at him, I responded, “Can’t find my phone.”

The doors began to close and Sam moved a hand over the pockets where the doors slid back into place. “Want help looking?

Before I could respond, another crouched down beside me, hands reaching for my purse.

“S’okay. I’ve got her.”

Sam nodded and moved back into the elevator, entrusting Oliver with the situation. “Text me when you find it, kay?”

I shot him a smile and watched as the doors fell shut, a ding signaling their departure. Oliver had unzipped my purse and was looking through it casually.

“Am I gonna find any bombs or drugs in here?” He grinned up at me, eyes peering out from beneath his thick lashes.

My heart skipped a beat. I zipped my bag back up, unable to locate my phone anywhere in there. As I did, I playfully rolled my eyes at him, “Oh, all the coke and all the meth.”

“Easy there, Walter White. Not in there?” He then pointed to my bag.

I scrunch my nose with a frown, “No. Think it’s on the bus, honestly.”

“That’s okay. Let’s go see, yeah?” Oliver stood back up, my purse in his hand. He offered me his other one and gently tugged me up onto my feet.

My shoulder bumped into his, knocking the breath out of me from the close proximity. His smile got a little wider. He took my pillow from my arms, too, and began leading the way out of the hotel. It took me a second to catch up, a little jarred by his proactive role in this. Here was a guy who had been ignoring me for weeks. And, now, not only was he helping me find my lost phone, but he also wanted to fuck me. It would never make sense.

When we were alone on the bus, on the landing of the short set of stairs that led up from the door, Oliver turned back to me. “Where do you think you left it?”

“Probably just where I was sitting earlier,” I set my things down on the couch as I moved towards it. I bent over, stuffing my hands into the cushions until my knuckles hit something hard. “Yep! Like I thought.”

I turned back to him with a proud smile, phone held up like a trophy. Oliver glanced his eyes up from the space where my thighs occupied. He had been staring at my ass. His face blushed slightly as an ashamed smile took over his features.

“You ask me to be patient, then you stare at my ass and make extremely teasing comments in front of our friends,” I crossed my arms over my chest, hip popped in a scolding sort of way.

Oliver sighed, running a hand over his face, “I’m sorry, Daisy.”

He seemed genuinely distraught by my joke, so I threw it away, shoulders relaxing, worries on my lips. “Oh, no, no,” I stepped towards him, “it’s okay! I’m not…I’m not actually mad. It’s okay, Oliver.”

“No, I just owe you so many apologies,” he shook his head, meeting my eyes with a frown.

I moved closer, touching his forearm gently. His skin seemed to melt in mine, his body relaxing into my presence as he almost leaned in to me. I offered a reassuring smile, “It’s okay. I promise. Max told me…a little bit. I get it.”

“No, I…” he shrugged with another huff, “I am going to sound like a fucking cliche right now, yeah?”

“I love cliches,” I snickered as I shoved his shoulder playfully. His fingers moved into mine, squeezing my hand.

“That was cliche,” he whispered through a deep chuckle. He then continued on, “I’m not good at making friends or, like…talking to people. I talk through music cause I just…I can’t ever find the right words in real life. I always say the wrong thing.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I shook my head, “I think…well, I’ll keep my clinical opinions to myself,” I giggled with a playful roll of my eyes.

Oliver waved me off, “I have a therapist, don’t worry. I already know what you’re gonna say. I have low self worth- trust me, I know. I’m working on it.”

“At least you are,” I offered up encouragingly, “loads of fucked up people do way worse than you and they don’t even stop to think about how it affects others. The fact that you’re beating yourself up so much about something so mild tells me everything I need to know.”

“What does it tell you?”

I kept his hand in mine, but moved the other to his chin, touching it sweetly, almost to tell him to lift it up, “That you’re a good person, Oliver. I just know it. A bad person doesn’t worry if they’re bad. A bad person doesn’t carry his friend’s drunk sister home from the bar and wipe off her makeup. A bad person doesn’t apologize, what, three times now? For simply ignoring her because he was scared of letting her in.”

He nodded sheepishly, blushing again. His gaze fell to the floor as he looked away, “It’s not just that, you know. It’s…stupid, I don’t know.”

“No, tell me,” I swept my hand over his cheek, pulling his gaze back to mine. “It’s okay.”

“I, just…” he cut himself off again, searching for the words in my eyes, “You’re trouble, Daisy. I knew it when we took those shots up on the roof. I knew then that I wanted you, in more ways than I can even fathom. But, you’re so different from me…I knew I wouldn’t be good for you. So, I didn’t wanna allow anything to happen between us. That’s why I ignored you at breakfast, why I pretended we never spoke. I’m scared of you.”

“You don’t have to be,” I was just slightly confused by his words. “I’m only human, just like you. Flesh and blood.”

“Flesh and blood and this stupid little halo above your head,” he swept a hand over my head before pulling his touch down to the back of my neck. I giggled at his words. He cracked a smile. “It’s true. I see it.”

“You’re overdramatic,” I squeezed his hand. “Don’t put me on a pedestal.”

“I’ll try not to, but it’s what you deserve, I know it, darling.”

I examined him for a second, searching his eyes for recognition that he might have felt even a little bit better. I found it in the glints shining in his dark pupils. “Are you gonna let me in now? Now that we’ve had this talk?”

“Yeah,” Oliver nodded and I swear I felt him push his cheek further into my hand. “Yeah, I think I will. I just…I can’t make you any promises about anything. About this- about- us. I don’t know what I can give.”

“Whatever you have, I’ll take,” I furrowed my brows, the volume of my voice dropping down in a desperate sort of way. “Whatever you can give me, I’ll have it. It’s okay. I can…I’ll take it, Oliver.”

His face seemed to contort, overcome with emotion, understanding, comfort- peace, almost. He struggled to find words and, after a moment or two, asked, “Can I kiss you?”

I didn’t have to nod. My eyes told him everything he needed to know.

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