#took forever to get close enough to her though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

Just Friends (Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags 🏷 18+ only, minors dni. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be.

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration.

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men.

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date.

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time.

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña.

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb.

Of course he knew Valeria.

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different.

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you.

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things.

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home.

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you.

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse.

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.”

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again.

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed.

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him.

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole.

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you.

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him.

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.”

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile.

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good.

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch.

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier.

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin.

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him.

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him.

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen.

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself.

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true.

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge.

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely.

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you.

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come.

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release.

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely.

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants.

“J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder.

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—”

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you.

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow?

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña angst #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier pena smut

6K notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 4 months

Text

Favorite Star - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: During halftime at the Golden Globes, two guests find an empty room. Or the one where Lizzie's dress is driving you crazy.

Warnings; (+18), semi-public smut, bottom!Lizzie, dirty talking, implied secret relationship, just sinful. | Words: 1.437k

A/N-> This is actually fluff because I'm a sweetheart and Lizzie's face after losing another award made me very upset. And as the saying goes, the devil works fast but fanfic writers work faster.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You've been teasing her.

All day, even before the awards began, you filled her cell phone with selfies and short videos of getting dressed in your attire - A dark green suit that hugged your body just right and was chosen to match her eyes, giving plenty of material for every rumor that has been circling about the two of you. Then on the red carpet, with intense stares and hidden smirks in her direction that your Agent probably wouldn't approve of. When you finally greeted her, you even dared to whisper how breathtaking she looked next to her ear and Lizzie should have won an acting award right there for covering the way her body shook at the compliment.

The Golden Globes party was as full as usual, and it was blistering hot and tedious. She still had to deal with an annoying host, and when the break finally happened, Elizabeth wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that the performance had been interrupted.

She made her way through the crowd towards the toilets, offering polite smiles to any of the known guests she crossed glances with and somehow, perhaps because she caught your eye before standing up, Lizzie knew you were following her.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she felt her wrist being gently grabbed. She caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils before you took the lead, holding her hand and guiding her into the first empty room you could find.

You let go of her hand to wrap your arms around her waist, a gentle push to have her against the closed door. Lizzie was still blushing because she was sure Meryl Streep had seen the whole thing.

Your lips were on hers in the blink of an eye, and all she could do was sigh, her eyes closing on instinct. Fuck, she missed this. It seemed like forever since you last kissed, Lizzie was almost beginning to think she'd imagined it.

When you broke apart, you were a little breathless, your eyes shining in her direction filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Hello, gorgeous." You greeted her with a smile, your hands stroking her sides. "Lizzie, this dress is... fuck."

She blushed at your affected tone of voice, smiling shyly. Her hands went to the collar of your dress shirt, and she stared back at you with the same intensity.

"I'm glad you like it." She whispers even though the room is empty and the noise of the party outside is enough to drown out the sounds inside. "Do you know what the best part is? How easy it comes off..." She teases naughty an inch away from your lips, pleased with the shaky sigh that escapes you. Your hands tighten a little more firmly around her waist and Lizzie bites her lip before instinctively thrusting her hips towards you. The cue is answered immediately - You grab her dress to put up a little so your thigh can fit between her legs, giving her something to grind against. But instead of giving in completely, she’s all too aware of where she is and the short time you both have before the end of the break. So Lizzie fiddles with your tie. "We can't. Not here."

You pout, the hands on her hips giving a tentative pull, forcing her to grind down into your flexing thigh, and her determined gaze falters into an aroused expression, the blood flowing not only to her cheeks but down her body, at a speed that makes her gasp for air. The hot knot on her lower belly making her dizzier by the second.

"Why wait, when you want it so badly?" You challenge back as if you knew how about the ache between her legs. You lean in to attack her collarbone with kisses that turn her into a panting mess, struggling to keep her eyes open. You gently bite the most sensitive spot behind her ear that you have learned to memorize and Lizzie lets out a soft whimper, her hips thrusting forward on instinct.

But there's movement outside. Footsteps and a soft bell. Break time is about to be over. Lizzie grumbles, the firm hands on your shoulder pushing you gently.

"We have to go." She says, but you don't let go, you pull her face to yours and kiss her hard. Your tongue makes her knees go weak and the only support is your thigh between her legs. She whines again, wishing she wasn’t wearing a dress at all. "Baby, they'll notice-" She manages to pant between your firm kisses, but she's grinding against you with a little more frenzy in the next second. Your hands move under her dress and Lizzie lets her face fall into the space of your neck, unable to care about the lipstick staining the collar of your shirt.

She choked on a moan when suddenly, your fingers reached forward - you just pushed the fabric of her already ruined panties aside and sank them inside her without warning. The throaty moan that escapes her is muffled on your skin.

It's ridiculous how helpless she is; riding your fingers in chase of her climax in near despair. And you're not gentle either, your thrusts are deep and quick inside her because you can't afford to prolong this and the second warning bell will ring soon. The cameras will be turned on again, your chairs will be empty, and more gossip about a possible relationship between the Marvel stars will surface in the media.

But Lizzie is coming hard against your hand, so she can't care about any of that right now.

It's one of the quickest orgasms she's ever had in her life, but she doesn't have time to feel embarrassed about it. You remove your hand to suck your fingers clean as she tries to breathe normally again, her hands gripping your shoulders so she doesn't slip to the floor due to her shaky legs.

You turn your face to her next, kissing her intensely and Lizzie moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. You smile as you break away.

"I kinda wanna skip the party and take you home, Miss Olsen." You let her know sweetly, and Lizzie lets out a short, breathy chuckle.

But the second bell rings, and the cameras have been turned on. She curses quietly, and you help her to stand up properly.

"Come on, let me help you with this." You ask, your hands pulling her face to lessen the mess that has become her lipstick as she tries to do the same with you.

But she knows, she knows for sure that her worn-out dreamy expression, the mess in her hair, will give away what she’s been up to. And that not only the other guests, but the fans will know too.

She swallows dryly, tugging at your hand. "They'll know."

You hesitate before giving her a small smile. "Is that so bad, Lizzie?"

She takes a deep breath, her lips cracking into a small smile. "I just... hoped to share the news in a different way."

You absorb her words for a moment, trying to ignore the warm happiness blossoming in your chest. Lizzie wants to go public. You steal a glance at the door before looking back at her and sighing. "Okay, I have an idea."

The whole thing goes very quickly; you pull your cell phone out of your pocket and take a picture of your lipstick-stained shirt collar. She looks at you with a frown.

"What...?"

"Well, you're not on Instagram so this is as good as it gets." You explain, letting her see the photo and the small caption that simply read “a good-luck kiss from my favorite star”. Lizzie felt her face burn, and she giggled nervously. This would cause some commotion, she could already imagine Twitter going insane trying to guess who you were talking to. Knowing her fans, they probably already knew.

She stares at you to say; "Your agent is going to kill you. Not only that, they'll drown you with questions when we are out of here."

You chuckled, offering her a wink. "It was totally worth it."

She approaches again, stealing a short kiss before touching the door handle. "I'll fix my makeup, you go ahead."

You pout. "But my picture was so nice..."

Lizzie rolls her eyes with a laugh. "I never said you couldn't post it." She teases, and it's her turn to give you a wink before walking out the door.

This woman is still going to be the death of you. Honestly.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen fics

2K notes · View notes

forzalando · 3 months

Note

hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!

second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk

Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.

Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.

Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.

It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.

At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.

“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”

“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”

“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.

You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”

His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.

“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.

“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.

It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”

“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”

“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.

“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”

Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”

You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.

Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.

“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”

He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.

“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”

“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”

Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.

He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.

“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.

“Sure, Y/N.”

“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”

Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.

“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”

“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”

Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.

Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.

You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”

You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?

When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.

While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.

You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.

“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”

“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’ boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”

Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.

You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.

“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”

Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns – like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”

When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.

He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.

“Max, I’m not – ”

He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”

You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.

Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.

The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.

“It’s morning,” you whispered.

“It is.”

“It’s morning and I still love you.”

He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.

You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.

“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”

“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #forzalando blurb #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

990 notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 14] Long-Awaited

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You become busier and busier as the charity event comes up, and you’re extremely nervous once the day hits. If everything goes to shit, the blame won’t fall on you because this is Satoru’s event– He could berate you for… something, but you aren’t getting fired. You’ve seen him go back to his old shell, whenever you look at him you start to see glimpses of his eighteen-year-old self, and it takes everything in you to put up a cold front.

The night finally arrives, and you’re getting yourself ready for the exciting event. You’re wearing a simple long black dress, and you’re finishing up the effortless makeup that you told yourself you wouldn’t spend too much time on. Yet, you find yourself wiping away the most minor mistake and redoing the step all over again.

“Ren’s got a tummy ache and doesn’t want you to go.” Your mom leans on the doorframe of the bathroom, and you sigh before you stick out your bottom lip. Your baby boy has been as clingy as ever, and as much as you wish to spend the rest of your evening with him, you have to leave. You still have to work.

“Ren, come here, baby!” You yell, and your mother moves out of the way so the boy can pass to the bathroom. It’s taking longer than usual for him to pop up. You crouch down when he’s in front of you, and you kiss his cheek, leaving a stain of red lipstick on his skin. You would laugh at the sight, but worry consumes you when your lips touch his skin and you feel it warm. The back of your hand touches his forehead, and you look up at your mother, “He does have a slight fever. Nothing worrying though.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on my favorite grandson.” Your mother says, making you chuckle. Ren is her only grandson, of course he’s going to be her favorite. You doubt she’ll be getting more in the future. She grabs your son’s hand to take him out of the bathroom so you can finish getting ready without your clingy baby by your side. “You want some ice cream, honey? We can do whatever you want when your mom leaves.”

You’re almost going to tell your mom to not allow the child to do whatever he wants when you’re gone, but surprisingly enough, you hear him reject the offer. It makes your brows furrow, but you try to put yourself in his shoes. When you have a cold the only thing you want is to lay in bed, snuggled up in a blanket so you understand. You try to focus on doing your makeup since you have to get going soon, after all, you have to show up early to help set up the event. You’re not invited, you’re responsible for helping set up. In other words, this is part of your job.

Ren doesn’t want you to leave when he sees you walk toward the door, but you assure him that you’ll be back soon. Tomorrow you’d do whatever he wants to do but you have to leave for the night. He reluctantly agrees, and you leave him behind to begin your work night.

The moment you get to the hall, you dread all the work you have to do. At first you’re worried, thinking about Ren, but ensuring that everything turns out as desired is what takes over your mind. You’re the one that’s making sure everything turns out as perfect as possible, which should be Satoru’s duty, yet he’s nowhere to be found. But you’re sure he’s worried since it’s his first big event, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

Ten minutes before guests are expected to arrive, your boss finally appears. Satoru looks as handsome as ever, wearing a black tuxedo, his hair slicked back. You try not to admire how good he looks, but you’re sure he notices. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Sayo took forever to get ready.” He puffs out a breath, and you peek your head to find the woman, but you don’t see her. “She’s in the car… Apparently her makeup still wasn’t ready.”

“Oh…” You respond, and you try to tell him that everything is set. Decorations are set. Drinks are ready, food as well. We’re just waiting on guests.” You inform him, and you can tell by the way that he looks you up and down, he isn’t listening to you. You feel yourself get more and more nervous with every passing second. “Mr. Gojo?”

“You look stunning.” He compliments you, and your face gets warm. You don’t respond though, you change the topic back to the event that’s about to happen, although Satoru doesn’t want to listen to it. The place looks perfect– Plus, he can’t do much now. He grabs two glasses from a tray that sits idle on a table, and he hands one to you. “To a great event.”

“Too early to cheer, is it not? No one has gotten here yet.” You respond. You almost feel bad for responding to him like that, so you assure him, “I think it’ll be fine though.”

He clinks his glass with yours, and you watch him bring the glass up to his lips and take a sip. You follow his lead, and you put it down immediately after. You feel your heart flutter as you look at him, and you force your eyes to avert.

“Will you need me the rest of the night, Mr. Gojo? My cat is sick and I want to leave early to take care of him.” You share, and his brows perk up. He ends up nodding his head, not wanting you to leave early for a stupid cat. “What exactly do you need? I thought you and your wife handled everything else.”

“Just need you around… You represent the company.” He says, and your brows furrow.

“I thought you did since you’re the president.” You tell him.

“And you’re my assistant, therefore, you also represent the company.” He argues. You look at the entrance of the hall, and you watch how Sayo walks in, wearing a stunning red dress. She always manages to make you look inferior, simply by walking inside a room. You understand why Satoru chose her over you, if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t hesitate.

You look back at him, expecting him to watch her with his mouth agape, but he’s staring at you. You sheepishly smile at him, bowing down your head before walking away. At the very least, you’ll have Shoko and Suguru with you. In the end, you’ll manage to sneak out to go back to being with your son.

Hours go by, and the event progresses smoothly, Satoru makes a beautiful speech that leaves you surprised– Something that reminds you of his old self. It’s refreshing to see that he has the ability to be the man that he once was, even if it’s for a split second. You’re seated with Suguru and Shoko, and you converse to kill time.

“How is Ren, by the way?” Suguru asks, and you smile at the mention of your son. You’ve gotten no calls, so you can assume that he’s doing better.

“Poor baby is sick. I just want to leave to be by his side.” You respond, and it catches Shoko’s attention.

“Sick? What does he have?” She questions.

“A cold, didn’t seem anything bad when I left.” You answer. After you answer, her mind drifts elsewhere, and for the first time in the night, you follow her eyes. Her gaze is set on the woman that’s next to Satoru. She spends around a minute staring at Sayo, before she feels your eyes on her. She rolls her eyes before standing up and walking away from the table. It’s a weird reaction, so your response is to follow after her to ask about it.

You stand up to follow after her, but just as you rise from the chair, Satoru approaches your table. “I hope you’re not thinking of leaving.”

“I have to talk to Shoko.” You say, and you walk away from the table to go after her. Satoru’s brows furrow and he takes a seat beside Suguru, asking,

“What’s up with them?”

“Wish I knew.” Suguru answers. “Shoko’s been out of it.”

Satoru then mentions your name, “How’s your relationship progressing? Do you see something more in the future with her?”

“Satoru, focus on your event.” Suguru shuts it down immediately. “Everything is going well, don’t ruin your night by finding out about something you don’t want to hear.”

“It’s just a question, geez.” Satoru rolls his eyes before standing up. He’s about to leave the table, approach another one and ask how everything is going so far. He mutters, “I’m allowed to ask, aren’t we friends?”

“That’s the one part of my life that you aren’t allowed to ask. Not after what you did.” Suguru responds, making Satoru scoff before walking away.

While they sort their problems out, you look for Shoko, finding her in the bathroom. She fixes her makeup, and you clear your throat before asking, “Everything okay?”

“Mind your business.” She sounds hostile, and you don’t want to push her boundaries. But she’s your friend, and you’re wildly curious to know why she’s been so focused on Sayo. She stops fixing her makeup and glares at you. “If you aren’t going to fix your makeup or pee, then leave.”

“Do you like her?” You ask, since it’s the only possible explanation. Of course, she could also like Satoru, but you doubt that she does. Shoko has never really been interested in men.

“I told you to mind your business.” She repeats. You decide not to push it further. You decide to take a short break, taking your phone out of your purse to check if you’ve missed anything. It hasn’t ringed once so you’re not too worried. You realize that you accidentally silenced your phone, and when you check, you feel your heart drop.

Shoko looks at you through the mirror, watching as you turn a color that’s not your own, your eyes widening. She forgets that she’s mad at you and worriedly asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Ren’s in the hospital, I have to go.” And she watches as you run out of the bathroom, and she stands dumbfounded.

When you get to the emergency room, Ren has already been moved to a private room. He’s laying in the hospital bed, not in as much pain as before since he got his medicine. You look at your mother, who sits beside her grandson, giving all her attention to him.

“What is it?” You ask, worry translating in your voice.

“An appendicitis. He has surgery very early in the morning.” Your mother answers. She watches the tears that have accumulated in your eyes stream down your face as you look at your son. You should’ve listened to him and stayed when he told you he was sick. “I contacted Mrs. Gojo before coming to the hospital and she arranged for everything to be quick. She’s stopping once the event finishes.”

“Thank the lord for the power of her money.” You answer, going to Ren’s side. He fights back his sleep, his lids heavy and closing on their own. You kiss the top of his head, and grab his little hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, honey.”

“It’s okay.” He says, although he could’ve used you by his side when he was getting injected.

“I promise that after this, we’re going to spend a lot more time together.” You respond, and you’d be worried about making an empty promise, but you’re done. You’re quitting. Your job is consuming you, and you need to pay more attention to the little boy that’s in front of you. He’s your everything, and time goes by fast. You then look at your mother, “You can go, mom. I’ll keep you updated.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving.” She tells you, and a chuckle leaves your lips. Nerves were eating her alive when the doctors took him to run some tests on him, she can’t sleep soundly tonight if she isn’t close to Ren. Her stomach growls and she says, “I might get some food. But I’ll be back.”

“Of course, mom. I’ll be here.” You try to smile at him. You take a seat in her old seat, and you keep your eyes on Ren. His eyes keep closing on their own, and you lay your head on the empty space of the bed, about to fall asleep just like him.

Ren has been your entire world for the time that he’s been alive, you have no idea what you’d do if something would happen to him. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact that when he took his first breath, he automatically became your first priority. You’d die for him.

You slowly drift off, and you hear Ren mutter ‘daddy’, and you feel your heart swell. He’s probably thinking about his dad again, and you begin to wonder how he imagines his father. Does Ren think they look alike? Because they certainly do, they’re practically twins.

Until you hear it again, and you lift up your head to look at your son. Yet, Ren’s eyes are wide open, and you’re paralyzed. You can’t move your head to look at the direction Ren looks.

Your eyes follow his gaze, and you nearly puke at the sight. Wide blue eyes are staring at the both of you. He takes deep heavy breaths, completely baffled at the sight that’s in front of him.

You murmur, “Satoru…”

So Ren isn’t a cat.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

1K notes · View notes

strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Shovel Talk(s) Part One

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.

They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).

Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.

The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.

"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.

So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."

Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."

"I know, sir."

"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."

Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."

He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.

"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."

Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.

"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.

"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."

"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."

"Me either."

"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"

"What? Careful how?"

"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."

Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.

Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.

He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.

"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."

They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.

"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."

"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.

He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."

"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.

He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.

Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.

"Eddie, it's Steve."

"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"

Steve laughs, "business."

"Boo!"

"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"

"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.

"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.

Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."

Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."

There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."

"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.

Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.

Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.

One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.

Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.

It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.

"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.

It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.

Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.

Ah. Steve knows what's coming.

"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"

"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.

If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.

It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.

"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."

"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"

He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.

He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.

One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.

How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?

Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.

None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.

He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?

He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.

He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.

#steddie #my fic #we like making steve a sad emotional mess right guys?#steve-centric #we gotta make the boy Sad so that his boyfriend can fix him #is that healthy? not IRL but this is fanfic and if i want Love to solve all the problems then im allowed to do that #only itll be in part two #that might get written one day #is steve putting words into his friends' mouths #yeah duh the boy needs therapy but its the 80s so hes not getting any

4K notes · View notes

cutielando · 1 month

Text

goals ~ oscar piastri

instagram au

synopsis: Oscar and Y/N's relationship is everyone's favorite, the fans saying they crave a relationship like theirs.

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,194,572 others

yourusername life lately 🩷 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 391,724 comments

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris why are you doing this?

yourusername doing what?

landonorris making me feel single

yourusername you are single?🤔

landonorris ...not the point😠

logansargeant cute liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

user1 they are too cute ❤️

nicolepiastri my children ❤️ i miss you guys

yourusername we miss you too, nicole ❤️

oscarpiastri we'll visit soon ❤️

mclaren 🧡 liked by oscarpiastri

lilymhe ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️

user2 our favorite grid couple ❤️

user3 we love y/n feeding us oscar content during the winter break 🥳🥳

yourusername i got your back 🫶🏻

user3 omg 😭😭

user4 will you come to more races next season? ❤️

yourusername i'm going to do my best to attend them all !! even though Oscar has offered to make me a full-time WAG, i do love my job haha

user4 hahahaha we love Oscar😩

landonorris you're welcome, btw

oscarpiastri for what?

landonorris i took all of these pictures when i was third-wheeling with your asses 😒

yourusername sounds like a you problem

landonorris you always bully me 😔

yourusername sucks to suck

user5 seeing Y/N and Lando bicker like siblings is my favorite thing 😭

user4 fr, they get along so well and i'm sure it's making Oscar's experience more enjoyable and easier because of that

user3 it's amazing to see how much she supports him though

user4 i know, she's been with him for a long time. it’s cute to see how proud she is of him 🥹

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 1,824,715 others

oscarpiastri back to work, always with me💗 tagged: yourusername

view all 417,583 comments

yourusername always ❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris wasn’t i third-wheeling enough during the break?

yourusername you’re the one tagging along

oscarpiastri she has a point 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris i like hanging out with you guys :(

yourusername then why are you complaining?

landonorris …i don’t know

nicolepiastri ❤️my beautiful son

oscarpiastri i miss you mum 🧡

nicolepiastri we’ll see you soon ❤️❤️

user1 i dream of having a relationship like their when i grow up 😩😩

user2 their love makes me believe in fairytales 💗💗

user3 how long have they been together?

user2 close to 3 years. they are childhood best friends as far as i know

user3 ooh, thank you. i was just wondering because they seem very happy together ❤️

logansargeant you never pay attention to me when she’s with you😭

oscarpiastri that’s not true

yourusername i’m just too cool 😎

logansargeant i don’t know about that

oscarpiastri watch it😠

yourusername my knight in shining armor 😩💗

alex_albon are you trying to be aesthetic?

yourusername we’re not trying, we already are

oscarpiastri i’m surprised you know what that is

alex_albon haha, funny

user4 forever thankful for these 2 🥲❤️❤️

user5 i want someone to love me like Oscar loves Y/N 😩😩😩🧡🧡🧡

user6 they are goals 🥹🥹🥲

yourusername has added to their story

seen by 98K

caption: my outfit for today’s race 🧡

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 1,927,481 others

yourusername proud doesn't even begin to describe how i feel 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 471,824 comments

oscarpiastri you were my lucky charm, couldn't have done it without you 🧡

yourusername you're gonna make me cry baby 😭😭😭😭

yourusername i love you so much🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

landonorris i was on the podium as well :(

yourusername i congratulated you too 🥹

landonorris but why does he get special treatment?

yourusername because he's my boyfriend...?

oscarpiastri watch it, mate

landonorris i was just saying :/

nicolepiastri 🧡🧡🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user1 he did so well for her 😭😭🧡

user2 i want a relationship like theirs 🫶🏻😍

user3 the way he looked at her when he was on the podium >>>

user2 i need someone to look at me like that 😩

user4 girl, same

georgerussell63 well done, mate! well deserved💪🏻

oscarpiastri thanks, george!

logansargeant making the Aussies proud, I see

yourusername he never disappoints

oscarpiastri not when i have you with me

logansargeant why do you always have to flirt in the comments?

yourusername we’re giving the people what they want to see

mclaren proud of you, Oscar! what a stellar weekend! 🧡

yourusername i love you, admin 🥹🧡

mclaren ilyt😉😉

oscarpiastri should i be concerned…?

landonorris they’re taking over. run for your life

yourusername 😒

yourusername you need to step up your game, babe

oscarpiastri are you seriously suggesting i’m losing you to the mclaren admin?

mclaren she’s not suggesting it, it’s already happening

oscarpiastri on it yourusername 🫡

lilymhe you were gorgeous, babe❤️❤️

yourusername i could say the same about you❤️

francisca.cgomes we stole the show

alex_albon ...

pierregasly ...

oscarpiastri ...

yourusername sorry boys

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 3,018,472 others

oscarpiastri we celebrated in style last night tagged: yourusername

view all 724,019 comments

yourusername yes we did 🥵🥵

oscarpiastri 😘🫶🏻

landonorris you two are disgusting

yourusername no, u

logansargeant i hope you used protection

oscarpiastri mate, wtf

yourusername don’t worry, eagle. we did

oscarpiastri babe, did you have to say it?

yourusername you know i had no choice

mclaren you’re not making our job any easier, y/n - PR

yourusername ooops 🤭

user1 Oscar is wilding man 😭😭

user2 this is the dirtiest post we’re gonna get from him and i’m here for it 💀

oscaaaaahpastry not y/n being scolded by McLaren 💀💀💀😭

lando.norrriiiiizzxxx imagine the PR nightmare she causes behind closed doors we don’t get to see 😭

user3 she’s a menace and i’m here for it 😉😉

user4 we love seeing Oscar being dirty 😩😩

yourusername same

user5 😭😭

user6 she is so unhinged and i love it 😭😭

landonorris atta boy

mclaren Lando, please, don’t make it worse 😭

oscarpiastri 🫢🤭

yourusername we’re sorry, McLaren admin :(

mclaren no, you’re not

yourusername no, we’re not

oscarpiastri we’re really not

maxverstappen1 these photos aren’t doing the night any justice…

yourusername 🤭

oscarpiastri you weren’t any better, shut up

maxverstappen1 🤐

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE

REQUEST HERE

♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list: @outerudeth @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @lanad3lslay @dardouni @saturnssunflower @moony-artemis @blissfulsunsetstuff @samantha-chicago @nikfigueiredo @therealcap @iloveyou3000morgan @daemyratwst @rqlstefanny @bwormie @hangmandruigandmav @kagome45 @enidsinclairaddamsthesecond @tallrock35 @sesamepancakes @boywondrgrayson @evlkking @evie-119 @ijustwanttoreadlols @cixrosie @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @ellouisa17 @paintedbypoetry @hellowgoodbye @lpab @xlinxdax0704 @decafmickey @teti-menchon0604 @ctrlyomomma @sya-skies @likedbygaslyy @booksandflowrs @acidburnsthings @dhanihamidi @mynameisangeloflife @5starl1ght @teamnovalak @ferrarisfailedstrats @basicuniter @jxnellat

797 notes · View notes

yayakoishii · 8 months

Text

Want | Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

WC: 5.5k

Genre: Fluff, slight Angst

Warnings: Sexual harrasment, derogatory terms for chubby people, mentions of blood, insecurities that lead to a bit of light self derogation (Please remember you're absolutely beautiful as you are <3)

A/n: The response on Hunger is insane. Over 700 likes?! I didn't expect much beyond a few 10-20 likes, thank you for all the love 😭 This is another self indulgent fic, more personal to me because I'm chubby myself so... I'm not super proud of the pacing tbh, but it's still pretty good, in my (biased) opinion, haha. I hope you enjoy it!!! ♡

also available on ao3!

When you joined the Straw Hat crew, you didn't expect to fall in love with the blonde chef.

Actually, when you joined them, you weren't in the mindset to think about love and silly crushes. Your island had been destroyed by the Marines for a 'good cause' and despite the Straw Hats' best attempt, you were the only remaining survivor. Luffy kindly offered you a place on his crew, and you joined as an assistant to Chopper, slowly learning from him.

The first few weeks after you joined were tough for you, who had never travelled outside of your island. It took time to get used to the environmental changes along with the emotional grief of losing all your loved ones. The crew tried their best to cheer you up in their own ways, and you would forever be grateful for every one of them for at least trying, even if their methods weren't the most effective for you. It was the thought and the sentiment behind it that counted.

But what did work for you was… food. Ever since you were a child, you had loved food and it was the way you connected to life. Though you were not the greatest cook out there, you were capable of making things that were edible and quite good at times. On the ship though, you never had to cook, because Sanji would always do all the cooking. Whenever you offered to help, to take your mind off the pain you were feeling, he would kindly decline, saying that he would make you whatever you wanted.

But he couldn't. The dishes from your island were not recipes known quite to the rest of the world. Hell, even you didn't know all of them, save for some of your favourite foods that you had learnt from your mother. So you snuck in after dinner and made a dish from your hometown. It wasn't the best food you ever cooked, but it still meant something to you, because you were reminded of home.

You wrote down all the recipes you knew into a book, and kept it close. Whenever you missed your home, you would sneak into the kitchen at night and make yourself something with your wonky cooking skills that made the dish taste different every time. Still, the familiarity was enough to comfort you and let you wallow in the grief at the same time.

Until one day, you couldn't find your book.

"Nami?" You called unsurely to the navigator, who was lying on the deck under shade next to Robin. Behind them, Sanji was serving drinks. The three looked at you in question and suddenly under the scrutiny, your confidence faltered. "Um, uh.. d- did you see a journal somewhere? I can't find mine…"

"The brown one?" She asked, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. You nodded frantically, hoping she knew. "I don't think I did. Did you check under your bed?"

"I did," you whispered, feeling the sadness wash over you again. It's not like you didn't still remember the recipes, but your memory wasn't the best. Without the book, it would be hard to remember them all.

"Don't worry, we'll find it," Nami got up and reassured you, looking concerned. "Sanji. Robin."

The two of them nodded along and then the four of you were searching for it everywhere, until Sanji had to excuse himself apologetically because he had to go cook lunch. You could only nod, trying not to get down in the dumps again over a book, but it felt a little hopeless. Until you heard Sanji shout from the kitchen. The three of you ran over to find him scolding Luffy, your journal in his hand.

"I just wanted to see what was in it!" Luffy pouted, his rubbery hands swinging around to try and get it back.

"That's an invasion of privacy, Luffy!" Sanji looked angry, but you were too relieved about the fact that you had found the book to get upset with Luffy.

"It's okay," you said, reaching forward to get the book. "It's just… recipes, Luffy. From my hometown."

There was silence in the kitchen for a few seconds and Luffy's face dropped into a serious look.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I thought… If I knew how to help you, you'd be happier."

It made you laugh softly, your heart warm at his kind intentions.

"Thank you, Captain," you smiled at him, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. "I am happy here. I just… miss my home, sometimes."

He wrapped you into a hug and Nami ruffled your hair a little. You smiled under the attention, holding the book close. Sanji for once was quiet, just staring at the book thoughtfully, though you didn't notice it then.

A few days after that event, Sanji called you to the kitchen before lunchtime. Curiously, you followed him to find… a plate of your favourite dish from your hometown. It was plated beautifully, making it look fancy and yet it still had that homey feeling to it. Sanji didn't say a word, just held out the chair for you to sit. You sat down in a daze, too focused on the smell of it lingering in the room.

It smelled like home.

And when you tasted it, you burst into tears. Because it tasted like home. It tasted exactly like your mom's. All the tears you had held back to not worry the crew were now spilling out without any end but you didn't care. Here, where only Sanji could see you, you let it all out. He didn't say anything, just placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and squeezed to let you know he's there for you. You turned around to face him, but the tears made it all blurry. Knocking your head against his stomach, you cried harder.

Sanji just held your head, carding fingers through your hair in comfort, offering you a handkerchief. That, you realised later, was the moment your feelings for Sanji began.

✿

After that day, you became a lot happier. Somehow, without words, just eating the food that Sanji made was enough to heal your broken heart bit by bit. Sometimes, he made extra because Luffy was curious and wanted to taste it too; and then the whole crew wanted it so Sanji made a few of your dishes for dinner. In that moment, surrounded by the smell of home, around your new family, your heart finally started healing.

You started noticing Sanji everywhere after you got used to life on the Thousand Sunny. From the small things he does, to the loud expressions of love he made, everything about him seemed wonderful and warm to you. Because you knew that beneath his overt affections for all the ladies, he was an infinitely kind, caring and observant person. How were you supposed to not fall for him, when he went above and beyond for you?

And yet, for all his admissions of love, you never believed that he could truly like you back like you felt for him. You were after all, not the prettiest girl around and you knew that. You were not slim like Nami or Robin, and it's not like you absolutely hated your soft and squishy body. But you wondered if Sanji would like you even though you weren't pretty.

All that self consciousness went out the window every time you were in his presence. He never made you feel less, or ugly– in fact, the way he spoke to you always left you a blushing mess. He made you feel special, and in the moment, it would be enough. Until you saw him fawning over Nami or Robin, and then the sneaky voice in your brain would whisper quiet thoughts comparing you to them. You had no chance with him, and you knew that.

And that was fine. You could live with that, couldn't you? You had to, because wanting more than you should never ended well. All it would leave behind is rejection, hurt and awkwardness. So you pressed down the feelings and acted as normally as you could.

The moment you realised that you loved Sanji was probably a memory you would never forget. Although it was unforgettable for you, it probably wasn't particularly that unique to others. That didn't matter to you because it was a memory you cherished ultimately.

It happened when the ship docked on a peaceful little island. Everyone else was going out to enjoy their time, and you wanted to spend that time with Sanji. So, casually, you made your request.

"Sanji?" Your timid utterance of his name got an instant reaction from the chef, who straightened up and looked at you with hearts in his eyes.

"Yes, (y/n)-chan?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Um, you're gonna go grocery shopping, right?" You had seen Nami complaining while handing him the money for the shopping.

"That's right," he leaned closer, almost too close but not quite into your personal bubble. Still, the proximity was enough for you to smell the mild smell of his perfume that left you a little weak in the knees. "Did you want me to get something for you, sweetheart?"

"I just," you hesitated, suddenly scared that he might realise your feelings and get disgusted. No, Sanji wasn't like that, you had to remind yourself. He would never treat you unkindly, even if he knew your feelings. "I heard you always do it alone. I thought you might enjoy some company?"

The hearts in Sanji's eyes disappeared as he stared at you like you were speaking gibberish for a few seconds. Under the intensity of that stare, you fidgeted and waited for his response.

"You're too kind, (y/n)-chan!" He finally cried, holding up your hands in his own bigger and colder ones. You flushed at the action, stammering out an actual gibberish response this time before you were whisked away by the blonde chef to town.

It felt all too much like a date to you, when you walked next to him. Sanji somehow made grocery shopping fun, or maybe that was just because of how much you liked him that anything with him was enjoyable? It didn't matter, you decided, because whichever it was, you couldn't deny that Sanji was equivalent to the sun on a cold day.

He enthusiastically showed you around, as if you were a tourist and he were a guide (when in fact, it was the first time in this town for both of you) causing you to giggle. Whenever you stopped to buy things, he would humour your curious questions on how to pick which vegetable and what cuts of which meat are the best. It felt awfully like a domestic date, one that made you smile when you imagined doing this with Sanji years down the line every week.

"And that's the last of it!" Sanji said happily, picking up the last bag. He was holding all the bags since the start, despite your insistence and now you were anxious, seeing him hold so many bags in his hands.

"Sanji, let me hold a few," you tried again, hands reaching out to take some of them. But Sanji just turned around so you couldn't reach the bags and grinned down at you.

"Nonsense, how could I let such a delicate lady hold such heavy bags?" His words made you flush in embarrassment. You were not delicate in any sense; surely, Sanji knew that too. And in spite of all his sincerity, the word just felt like it was mocking you.

"I'm… not…," you struggled to say, not wanting to argue but unable to keep it in either. With your chubby frame, no one had ever considered you as delicate.

"Let me do this for you, my love," Sanji's voice was soft and infinitely gentle, as if he was indeed holding something fragile in his hands. "I wouldn't feel good letting you carry anything when I'm more than capable."

"But Sanji!" you lightly whined, wringing your hands. "I don't feel good letting you carry all the burden either! Come on, just a few bags?"

Before Sanji could respond, you heard a scared squeak. Your brows furrowed and you looked around the marketplace, finding a man cornering a girl a few feet behind Sanji. She seemed uncomfortable and he was all in her personal space, saying something in a rough, sleazy voice that gave you shivers.

You were not a fighter, but the instinct to protect her overtook the rational part of your brain and you crossed the distance to where they were. Pushing him back, you stood in front of the girl to block her from him.

"Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" You said coldly. "Back off."

The man took an involuntary step back until his eyes fell on you. He reeked of alcohol and smoke and you felt like puking from the putrid stench coming off him but you held it together, trying to come off as more confident than you felt. His eyes roamed over your body shamelessly, and you felt dirty and uncomfortable from the action.

"Don't get in our business, fatty," he grinned, the smell of alcohol doubling the moment he opened his mouth. "Are you jealous that no one will ever give you the attention she's getting?"

The words stabbed you in the gut, even though you knew rationally that you were better off without the bad attention. That was the one perk of being conventionally average in looks– no one really looked at you, in good ways or bad. Or maybe you had just been lucky so far. But hearing him call you that, saying those words, even from someone like him, it hurt a small part of you. Before you could respond, a leg in black slacks came up and kicked the man down with such a force that everybody around paused, shocked by the sudden action.

Even you stepped back automatically, gasping when you saw that it was Sanji, still balancing all the bags perfectly while he had roundhouse kicked the man into the ground with so much force that you could see his teeth had become bloody and he was on the verge of unconsciousness.

"(Y/n)-chan doesn't need the attention of sewer rats like you," he said calmly, straightening back into position smoothly. "Her beauty only deserves the best of the best."

The sight of Sanji saying that with a calm face, his hair slightly tousled, his hands balancing the bags and his leg muscles rippling under the slacks – that image was imprinted in your heart and brain for the rest of your life. The words sent you into a shock, but when they finally processed, you couldn't deny the overwhelming realisation that crashed into you.

You love Sanji.

It wasn't just a silly crush, or something that could go away if you gave it time. The chef had unknowingly carved himself a place into your heart. He was taking over it, chamber by chamber.

"Sanji…" The word came out as a whisper, inaudible under the din of the market as people were talking about what was going on. You snapped out of it when you felt the girl behind you shuffle and you immediately squashed your thoughts down to examine them later. You turned around and asked her, "Are you okay?"

She looked very alarmed and upset, but she still shot you a grateful smile as she murmured, "Yes, thanks to you two."

"He didn't hurt you?" You asked, hands hovering over her as you looked to ensure if she was safe. A peek of crimson caught your eye when she raised her hand to rub her face. Her elbows had scraped against the rough brick wall in his tousling. "You have some scratches!"

"Oh," she turned her arms to look at the wounds, now feeling the burn after the adrenaline and fear response was receding.

"Come on, I'll treat it for you," you offered, opening your sling bag which had some emergency first aid. You usually carried it around for the members when you were off the ship, knowing that they were all too reckless to give a second thought to any wounds.

"Oh, no, no, I couldn't trouble you more!" She said, mortified but you gently shook your head, offering her a hand.

"It's no trouble," you reassured her. It took a little bit of convincing but she eventually calmed down and let you clean up the wound before you parted. Finally, you allowed yourself to look at Sanji, who immediately schooled his features so you wouldn't see the warm adoring look he was giving you the whole time. "Sanji… Are you okay too? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Do you think I'm that weak, sweetheart?" He smiled teasingly, but you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I know you are strong," you insisted, worrying your lower lip as you tried to look him straight in the eyes but kept getting flustered. "But even strong people get wounds. Just because they are strong, doesn't mean that they don't feel the pain. So tell me honestly, Sanji. Are you hurt anywhere?'

"No," he promised. "But if you're that worried, I'll let you check me all out back on the ship."

He ended that with a wink, and this time, you couldn't hold back the flush threatening to overtake your face again. Sanji couldn't help making the mood light again, but he had no idea of the effect his words had on you.

"Stupid," you weakly pawed at his arm, walking away before he could say anything. The blonde chef just laughed and followed you, face once again soft and fond as he watched you.

✿

Sanji may have been one of the only people onboard who was oblivious to your feelings, because a few of them did figure it out after watching the way you interacted with him. The first ones to realise were Nami and Robin, who called you out on it when the three of you were lying under the shade on the sunny deck.

"Really?" Nami had scrunched her nose, eyes critically analysing Sanji as he walked (danced, really) back to the kitchens after serving drinks to the three of you.

"Really what?" You asked, too busy sipping the cool drink to notice that she had noticed the way you had warmly thanked Sanji and given him a bright smile.

"Sanji?" Nami gave you a pointed look. The name made you freeze, and you tried to play it off.

"What about him?"

"Oh, come on!" Nami threw the slice of lemon that was on her drink. You caught it before it could fall on your shirt and muttered an indignant 'hey!' that the navigator ignored. "You like him, don't you?"

The words were enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. Robin was smiling knowingly from the other side of Nami and you felt exposed, like they had both just turned you inside out.

"I do," you whispered after the few minutes of silent mortification that Nami had spent in self satisfaction.

"Why that loser though?" She said without any real bite. You knew she wasn't actually demeaning him; it was affectionate, in the way one would talk about their sibling's lovelife.

"Because!" You whispered, eyes running everywhere to check if no one else was around to hear you. "Have you looked at him? He's literally so pretty! He is kind, caring, and so, so thoughtful and generous. Without expecting anything in return, he is always giving and giving and he makes my stomach do silly things. He has curly eyebrows, Nami! I didn't think those could look good on anyone. Hell, I know I would look ugly with them, but he makes it work! It suits him, and he's so beautiful and I'm just–"

You collapsed onto your chair, your wet fingers from the condensation on the drink glass finding purchase in the dips of your face to hide it. Just talking about him was enough to get your heart beating fast, and the mortification of what you had just spilled to the two girls made you want the ground to swallow you already.

"You really like him," Robin's soft observation made you relax. She wasn't teasing you. You turned to look at her and caught the comforting smile she was sending your way.

"I was going to say you could do better," Nami turned to face you, swinging her feet around to your side, "but after hearing all that, I think… You two are perfect for each other. Despite all his antics, he has a good heart. And you'll be good for him, because you see him as he is."

"Yeah?" You couldn't help the small flower of hope blossoming in your chest.

"Really," Nami smiled, a rare genuine smile that was usually reserved for late night talks and reassurances in down times.

"You don't think…." You trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of your top, "he won't… find me good enough?"

"Are you crazy?" Nami snorted, picking up her drink. The melted ice had made the level go up so much that it was threatening to spill any moment. "You're better than anything he could dream of. I told you, didn't I? You would be good for him. Having someone like you in his life to ground him, I think there's nothing better than that. You're one of the sweetest people I have ever met. If anyone here isn't good enough, it's him."

"Hey now," you frowned, ready to defend Sanji but hearing his voice stopped you.

"Who isn't good enough for (y/n)-chan?" His face was stuck in a weird smile, like he was forcing it. He carefully placed the plate of pastries he had brought as he continued casually despite the silence, "I don't know who we are talking about but Nami-chan is right. No one is good enough for our lovely (y/n)-chan."

"Oh, look at that!" You hurriedly switched the topic, looking at the plate he had brought. The tiny pastries were adorable and colourful, looking so delicious that it would have made your mouth water if you weren't distracted at the moment. "This looks so good, Sanji. Seriously, if you keep feeding me like this, my weight will keep increasing!"

The last line became a teasing complaint, but you didn't expect Sanji to come to the side of your chair and lean down to where you were tilted. The proximity caused your eyes to widen, the blood thundering in your ears as he carefully tucked in a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, face so soft and warm that it make your insides feel like they were vibrating.

"All the more for me to love, so I would keep winning, wouldn't I, sweetheart?"

You choked, and the need to get away from him before you did something wild like grab him and kiss him got so much that your knee accidentally shot up and into Sanji's back, pushing him forward. The chef's eyes widened at the sudden attack, but he managed to not collapse on you by quickly holding onto the sides of the chair but now you were trapped in between his arms on top of the close proximity.

It made you so weak in the knees, and there was something hot and warm curling in your gut as you stammered gibberish, feeling like you were about to faint because Sanji's chest was practically touching yours and it was all too much.

"SORRY!" He hurriedly backed off the moment he got his bearings, and for the first time since you had come onboard, you saw him have a genuinely heavily flushed face. There was a little blood starting to leak from one of his nostrils and somehow, it helped you calm down. He was just as affected as you were. The idea was enough to lessen your embarrassment by a little.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Sanji," you said remorsefully, hiding your face completely in your hands this time. "I kicked you!"

"It wasn't on purpose," he said, right hand coming up to hide the blush on his own face. "I'm sorry for… for making you uncomfortable, (y/n)-chan!"

Uncomfortable? Did Sanji have any clue just how comfortable you actually felt? The problem wasn't that you were uncomfortable in the proximity; it was that you were too comfortable, to the point that you never wanted to leave. But that would be a dead giveaway of your feelings, right?

"Okay, this is just painful to watch now," Nami sighed, jolting the two of you. You had nearly forgotten that she and Robin were right there, and they had seen everything. She looked at you unhappily, mouth set in a tight line. "How about you two get a room and make out there?"

"Nami!" You cried out. She really just gave away your crush like that?!

"Just be grateful I'm not demanding money to make up for what I just had to witness," she sniffed haughtily, swinging her legs back onto the chair and pulling down her sunglasses. "Seriously, you two, go talk shit out. Or else, knowing you, you will just be awkward around each other and that's gonna be even more painful to watch."

She wasn't totally wrong. You were planning to avoid him, possibly by jumping off the Sunny and drowning to death since you didn't know how to swim. But that wasn't really a solution and even you could admit that.

"W- What's there to talk-?" Sanji seemed a little scared, wide eyes glancing between the three of you. Nami ignored him, and you were too flustered to look him in the eyes. Nami's suggestion was essentially for you to come clean, wasn't it? But that was easier said than done. The fear of rejection and the eventual awkwardness was gripping your insides in a chokehold, and you couldn't move your feet even if you tried.

"Sanji," Robin said calmly. "Pick up (y/n) and go to the kitchen."

"Huh?" You were startled at her words. Pick you up?! No way! "No, no way, I'm too… I'm too heavy, there's no need for that!" Even as you said that, you couldn't actually bring yourself to move.

"I don't really get it," Sanji admitted, looking between the three of you as he spoke, "but I can do that. (Y/n)-chan?"

"No, Sanji–" the protests died down the moment he bent down and picked you up like you weighed nothing. Even as he walked you across the deck, you couldn't help but think that it was kind of hot just how easily he picked you up. "Sanji…"

He didn't look at you until you were in the kitchen and the door was closed behind the two of you. He walked over to the table and then carefully placed you on it, as if you were a teacup made of fine china teetering with tea. Finally, he let his clear blue eyes stare down at you, the expression on his face more vulnerable and exposed than you had ever seen on him.

"Sanji?"

"I know I made you uncomfortable," he said quietly, backing away. His hands came up to rub away the blood but it only made it spread around and you winced at seeing that. You never wanted to see any blood on Sanji, if you could help it. "I touched your… you. It wasn't my intention, I swear! I just, I wanted, I–"

He abruptly shut up, looking frustrated with himself.

"Sanji."

He didn't look up, fists clenching at his side the moment you said his name.

"Come here, Sanji," you whispered, holding out your hands to beckon him closer. His eyes flickered over your face, as if trying to gauge out what you were feeling, even as he followed through your request without a second thought. You pulled out the handkerchief he had given you long back, and wiped away the blood over his upper lip and cheeks carefully before you picked up his hand. The thumb was bloody too, so you gently held the limb in one of your hands and wiped it with the other. "You didn't make me uncomfortable, Sanji."

He stayed quiet as you continued to wipe it until it was all gone.

"Didn't I?" He said the moment you were done.

"No," you said, looking up at him. You didn't let go of the hand, though you dropped the handkerchief beside you. Somehow, holding his hand seemed to give you the courage to make the admission Nami had told you to. "I… Sanji, I like you. A lot more than I ever thought it was possible to feel towards someone. I like you so much that it physically hurts when I see you flirting with other women. I like you so much that my heart feels warm whenever you are around, and I feel so safe in your arms that I never want to leave. I like it when you are close to me. But I know that you don't like me like that, so whenever you get so close, and I can't help but want you so much, it's painful for me. I never want to let you go."

Sanji's eyes darkened with every word you spoke, a gradual change that you didn't notice at first because you were all in over your head. His hands hovered around your waist as you finished.

"Who told you?" His voice was a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat the moment he realised how desperate he sounded.

"Told me what?" You asked timidly, looking down at your lap.

"That I don't like you?" Sanji's voice was a broken whisper like yours had been. "I have never heard anything more untrue than that. All this time, I wanted you but I kept my feelings to myself. Because you deserve so much, so much more than I am, so much more than I can give. I wanted and I wanted and I felt so greedy, wanting more and more of you, more than you would let me have– I wanted anything you were ready to give, and I also wanted everything you have to give. I thought you wouldn't want someone like me, when there are so many better options around for you–"

"What?" You couldn't help but laugh. All his words were making you delirious; this had to be some wild dream you had conjured up. It didn't feel real. None of it did. "I had better options around? Sanji, I was so sure you would never look twice at me! I never felt like I was pretty enough, or good enough to get your attention and you're telling me… I had better options? That's so–"

You kept laughing, body shaking from the weight of the laughter. Sanji stared at you, unsure hands still hovering around you. His fingers twitched from holding back the urge to pull you into him.

"You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen," he mumbled. "Not good enough to get my attention? Darling, you have had all of my attention ever since I met you. No other woman could compare to you from the moment you made your place in my heart known."

"Did I really have all your attention?" You asked, letting your insecurities bubble up. Now that you were both being honest, it was better to get it all out of the way, right? "Even when you looked at the other women…"

"I never looked at them the way I did you," his words were sincere, and in that moment, they were enough. You looked up at him, and your body broke into shivers the moment you realised the heat in his eyes as he stared down at you; like you were some unique dish he was finally getting the chance to eat after years of craving it.

"I didn't want the other options, Sanji," you whispered, the volume enough for the proximity you were in. "The only one I ever wanted was you."

You held his collars and pulled him in, and it was like he finally snapped, now that he had permission. His hands immediately grasped at your sides, gently holding the soft flesh there as he kissed you. And now it was your time to give and give, while he took from you like your lips were spilling with ambrosia and he was determined to get every drop. His warm breath fanned over your lips and the goosebumps on your skin rose again, your fingers tightening around the collars of his shirt.

When he let your lips go, he was greeted with the sight of your flushed and pleasantly buzzed expression, like you were drunk on him. Seeing you like that, because of him, it was enough to get him groaning.

"So beautiful," he whispered, leaving feather light kisses all over your face. "So gorgeous. All for me. All… for me to have?"

"Yeah," you whispered, looking up at him and seeing the devastated yet over-the-moon expression on Sanji's face. Even without words, he could always just cleave into your heart and press himself within its walls like they were made to fit him, and only him. "You can be greedy. Take all you want. I'm all yours."

°•❀•°

2K notes · View notes

zeezelweazel · 2 months

Note

I beg you make a part 2 of the Wally fic where something happens between her and reader (maybe reader catches Wally in one of the fantasies)

Lia Wälti| Dream Come True|

______________________________________

I wasn't planning on making a part two but since you guys asked so nicely

Guess who finally entered their 20s :)

Part two of "Fantasise"

TW: fingering, degradation, spanking, choking, strap on use, mention of masturbation

____________________________________________________

Lia had to go to training the other day like nothing happened. She tried to avoid you and for the most part she was successful. But of course, she couldn't avoid you forever, you are playing for the same team after all.

Lia stepped into the gym and when she saw it was empty she sighed relieved. That is until she moved further inside the room and saw you on the leg press. Your muscles were shining with sweat and your breathing was heavy from the all the exercise. Your legs were moving up and down slowly and Lia licked her lips as she stood there, ogling you like she was back into one of her fantasies.

"Hey, came to train Lia?" The Swiss woman jolted in surprise when she heard your voice. Lia's brown eyes locked into yours and for a moment she thought she saw something there. She shook her head and smiled politely before she moved on to start training.

After she was done with training Lia packed her things and started moving towards the exit of the gym until she felt you tug on her wrist. Lia turned to look at you and you smirked at her.

"Want to come to my place?" Lia stared at you shocked, simply trying to process your words. The invitation was clear, your voice was flirty and your body language was hinting at one thing only. Lia's cheeks flushed when she remembered what she did last night but all the same, she was confused about where this came from. You've never showed signs of liking her before so why now all of a sudden?

The longer she took to answer the more certain you became of your suspicions. You weren't blind and as someone who's slept with many women you knew the signs of someone being into you.

You also knew Lia, albeit not very well but well enough. Enough to know that all her exes were as interesting as dull dish water. Lia screamed vanilla, not just her perfume, but just with the way she carried herself you could tell this woman has never been properly fucked before. Which is a shame considering how absolutely gorgeous she is with her pretty face and her soft lips and those killer doe eyes that only made you want to absolutely wreck her.

Lia's lips were opening and closing but no words left her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, clearly not expecting you to be this forward. In the end she didn't say anything, she simply nodded and you grinned down at her, like a wolf to a lamp.

Closing the bedroom door softly behind her Lia took a moment to simply take in your room. It was nicely decorated and very much you. Though Lia didn't have much time to appreciate it. Your hands framed her face and her eyes stared up at you. There was this hesitant and curious innocence that you couldn't resist.

Your brought your lips together, the kiss hard but slow, giving her time to relax and get used to it. You pulled her in and Lia threaded her hands through your hair. You dominated the kiss easily and Lia's whimpers were swallowed by your tongue. You manoeuvred your bodies towards the bed and when the back of her knees hit the bed she sat down.

You climb on her lap and press feverish kisses across her neck. Lia sighs and moves her head back to give you more access. Her hands move down to start undoing the buttons of her blouse and you smirk against her neck when you take notice. You let Lia throw away her top and thread her fingers through your hair as you willingly move down to her collarbone. Sneaking your hands around her midsection you unhook her bra and take it off before pulling back to stare at her chest unabashedly.

Lia blushes under your gaze and resists the urge to cover her breasts with her hands. You shakily exhale through your nose as you take her breasts in your hands softly at first before pinching her tight nipples. Lia yelps not expecting the sudden movement. You lean in to press kisses against her jaw while your hands roughly squeeze her tits. Lia gasps when you lick a hot line up to her ear.

"Tell me Lia, what do you think about when you touch yourself?"

Lia almost chokes on air at your words. There's no way you could possibly know. This is probably some sort of foreplay question, right? But still how is she supposed to answer without telling on herself?

You seem to notice Lia's internal turmoil but you don't say anything to the brunette. You let her think it through while you move down to remove her pants. Lia's head is spinning but she still lifts her hips up to help you remove her pants. You grin when you notice the wet patch on her lacy underwear.

Lia had yet to answer your question but the moment you started slowly removing her panties her mind turned fuzzy with pleasure. The cold air hit her dripping cunt and she bit her lip to confide a moan. She whimpered when you ran a single finger through her folds and she spread her legs just a bit more. You smirked and nipped her neck teasingly.

"Do you think about me fucking you when you touch yourself Lia?"

Lia's eyes went wide and her hand clasped your wrist. If it wasn't for the fact that a new wave of wetness hit your finger you'd think that the brunette didn't like the comment. A deep red blush spread over her face and Lia knew she was absolutely done for. She didn't have the mind to ponder over how you know, just that this fact alone made her so wet.

You moved your fingers up to fondle her throbbing clit and Lia whined all high pitched and needy. Lia noticed how horribly dry her throat is only when she opened her mouth to finally answer your probing questions. She swallowed once and looked you in the eyes before answering.

"Yes." She choked out an answer and you chuckled and teasingly dipped your fingers inside her clenching hole only to pull them away and move up to play with her clit once more. "That's not enough princess. You know what I want to hear."

Lia whimpered and threw her head back, face flushed a deep red at your relentless teasing. She took in a few deep breaths to collect herself.

"I-I think about you tying me up and-" Lia's voice closed up when you shoved two fingers inside her tight pussy without warning. You brought your free hand up to play with her breasts and it was getting almost impossible for Lia to think, much less answer your question.

"Go on baby, finish that thought."

Your strict but sweet tone send a shiver up Lia's spine and the Swiss woman has to fight with herself to form a coherent sentence.

"I think about you tying me up and fucking me while you're choking me." Your eyes visibly darkened at Lia's words and you resisted the urge to just push her on the bed and fuck her senseless. You lean in and after a strong bite on her neck you slowly kiss towards her ear.

"Let's make your dreams come true then."

You pull back, removing your mouth and your fingers from Lia, leaving the brunette alone and desperate. Lia sits on the edge of the bed waiting for you to come back. With you busy searching the closet it doesn't take long for the Swiss to get impatient. Lia slowly drags a hand down her body and runs a single finger through her folds. Her mind almost starts to wander on its own but before Lia can sneak a finger inside a harsh slap on her thigh makes her jolt. Her eyes snap open and they first meet your furious eyes before sliding lower to land on the big appendage between your legs.

Lia gulpes at the sight of the big cock in front of her face. She's imagoned you fucking her many times but this is the first time she's actually seen such a big strap. Now she's not so sure she can take it. Before Lia can voice her worries she feels yet another slap, this time on her sensitive clit. Lia yelps and her legs snap closed as you thread your other hand into her hair and tug her down until Lia falls on her knees.

You could moan just at the sight of her like this with her pretty doe eyes looking up at you, legs splayed open just a little on the cold floor and hands behind her back. Your hand moves from her hair down to her jaw and your thumb glosses over her pretty lips.

"Open your mouth like the good little slut you are."

Lia hesitantly does as you ask, not really knowing what to do from there. You grin at her innocence before taking the cock in your hand and slowly stroke it. You push the head of the cock against Lia's lips and the brunette whimpers slightly. Slowly she presses small kisses on the cock head before moving lower and back up again.

You use your free hand to guide Lia to take the cock in her mouth. Lia moans around the shaft as your hand tugs on her hair and forces her to take more. Lia gags and immediately recoils, the brunette panting on the floor with saliva dripping down her chin. You pat her cheek reassuringly when she pouts up at you.

"Don't worry, I'll train your whore mouth to take all of my cock."

Lia moans and gets up again to push her lips against yours for a feverish kiss. Lia groans against your lips and you take the chance to push your tongue in her mouth. You two slowly move up the bed and Lia's hands desperately pull at your top. You pull back and take your shirt off only to push Lia down before she gets the chance to touch you. You reach on your drawer and pull out a set of handcuffs. Lia smirks and cheekily puts her hands up above her head ready for you to finally tie her down.

You smile at the brunette's newly found confidence and pull a black pair of leather handcuffs from your bedside table. You secure her hands on the bedpost and make sure the Swiss is comfortable before moving your head down to bite and suck on her neck. With her hands tied Lia is unable to push your head lower towards her aching heat so she's left squirming against you. As a result Lia receives a sharp slap on the side of her thigh that only makes her wetter. She whimpers when you take a nipple in your mouth and suck. Her head is dizzy, mind spinning in pleasure when you bite down on the tender flesh of her breast.

All the different sensations drive her crazy and she's so out of it she gasps when you run your cock through her folds. Lia throws her head back when you try to push the head in and she tries to relax to accommodate the sheer size of it but it doesn't seem to be working. Lia moans loudly at the stretch when the head pushes past her entrance but after a few minutes of you shifting your hips and pushing in slowly Lia whines loudly in frustration.

"I can't take it. It won't fit." You move one of your hands from her waist to the column of her throat and squeeze until Lia's eyes snap closed. You chuckle and thrust your hips forward, hard and deep, as you watch Lia's pussy swallow more of your cock.

"You will take it. Fuck, that's it baby, you take my cock so well." Your hips keep moving as you slowly start upping the pace. Your thrusts turn from deep and hard to fast and shallow while you work Lia's tight cunt open. Lia is left to thrash hopelessly on the bed, her tightly clasped hands not allowing much movement. The brunette couldn't make loud sounds due to the pressure from your hand, still steady on her throat.

With a steady pace the fake dick keeps pushing farther in and Lia's head spins from the stretch, accomodating the pain mixed with pleasure. With a particularly harsh thrust and a high pitched breathless moan from Lia you finally bottom out and you groan, putting both of your hands on her hips and grinning down at her. Lia opens her eyes, chest heaving with deep breaths and her eyes lock with your before following your line of sight. Lia moans softly when she's greeted with a soft bulge on her lower belly. Your hands stroke over her abs and you groan when you feel your cock nestled deep inside the midfielder.

"Fuck, Y/N, please." Lia started rolling her hips against yours, desperate for you to start moving again. Your fingers squeezed her hips and you leaned down for one final kiss before you begun pounding into her once more.

Without your hands restricting her airways Lia is now moaning freely and you almost groan at the pornographic sounds that leave the normally quiet woman. You groan at the beautiful sight of the woman under you almost shaking from the pleasure. Lia can barely form any coherent words but you can make out pleas and sounds that remind you too much of your name. Lia's thighs begin to shake and you feel your own orgasm approaching fast.

"You're so beautiful. That's it come for me pretty girl."

You try to push Lia closer to the edge by bringing one of your hands to rub at her clit in short and fast circles. Lia tugs at the restraints harshly and you know that if her hands were free she'd be raking her fingernails down your back.

"I'm gonna -" the words barely leave Lia's mouth before the Swiss blacks out as her whole body shakes. Your hips keep moving as your high approaches quickly and you feel yourself getting close. The picture of Lia lying beneath you with a fucked out expression is enough to push you over the edge. The orgasm racks through your body and you fall limp on Lia. You take a few moments to collect yourself before you push of the midfielder and slowly remove the strap. Lia whines quietly and tugs at her wrists once, you quickly get the message and take off the handcuffs. She sighs and stretches on the bed, finally able to move her body freely. You grab some lotion and rub it on her wrist softly and Lia tries not to blush at how soft and gentle you're being.

Lia has never done this before. Not really knowing what this is that's going on between you, but as far as Lia is concerned you aren't supposed to cuddle in bed and laugh until the late hours of the night with your supposed one night stand.

____________________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #smut #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #arsenal women #woso smut #awfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #lia walti smut #lia walti #lia walti x reader

442 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 2 months

Text

taught a lesson II a.putellas x sister!reader

"alexia!" you yelled loudly with a scowl, stomping out of your room to find your sister sprawled out on the lounge, her girlfriend laid in between her legs as both older girls gave you a curious look.

"why is there a lock on my window?" you moved to block their view of the tv and crossed your arms, glaring daggers at your older sister whose face remained blank.

"why don't you tell me why you would need a lock on your window hermana?" the blonde hit back raising an eyebrow as you scoffed. "because you think you're a prison warden!" you snapped, the warning glare sent your way doing nothing to deter your anger or where it was directed.

you'd moved in with alexia when after years of academy training and playing on the junior team you were finally offered a contract on barcelona's senior team.

you'd all been over the moon and you weren't sure if you could ever do anything to make alexia prouder than she had been once you'd picked up the phone and called her first.

quickly accepting the contract, the club had offered to set you up with your own apartment, car and a nutritionist to visit weekly to help you settle in and form a healthy routine around balancing this new adjustment to your life.

however both your older sisters and your mami declined this on your behalf, all sharing the opinion that at eighteen you weren't responsible enough to live by yourself even with assistance, and your protests fell on deaf ears as you were instead moved into your eldest sisters spare room.

to her credit she'd done everything she could to make it feel like it was as much your place as hers and olga's, allowing you full creative control over everything about your room and even offering to move about or change some things in common areas in an attempt to help you not feel like just a guest.

though not dissimilarly to both your older sisters you had a temper, especially at eighteen it hardly took much to have steam pouring from your ears and as much as it amused alexia to wind you up she knew where the line lay between teasing and taking things too far.

that did not however stop the two of you from being at one anothers throats more often than not. alexia had always and would forever be fiercely overprotective when it came to her younger sisters, and about as close to a helicopter sibling as one could be.

it was rare things got physical now alexia was thirty and knew better, never afraid to smack or shove you when she was younger and you'd be on her case about something refusing to leave her be until you got your way. now for the most part she left the wrestling and the rolling around to you and alba, rarely involving herself.

as much as she was also protective over alba, with nearly twelve years between the two of you it meant she'd adopted more of a maternal role. this only seemed to worsen once you moved in with her and she had much easier access to every little aspect of your life, trying to control as much of it as she possibly could in order to keep you safe, happy and healthy, at least in her eyes she was doing what she thought was best for you.

but this lack of autonomy, privacy and independence didn't fare well with you, and caused the two of you to clash heads frequently. olga more often than not acted as the mediator between your disputes, much more reasonable and in touch with her emotional intelligence than your sister was.

but when you'd stupidly left your laptop open on the kitchen bench having stepped out of the room to shower, alexia had snooped and found your iMessage threads with friends, head boiling as she read through weeks worth of successful executed plans to sneak out and get up to god knows what with them at all hours of the night.

so to prevent this from happening again she'd had the lock installed when you were out with your mami for lunch the next day, olga warning her against it and trying to remind her of when alexia herself was eighteen, prompting that you needed the room and space to make your own mistakes and learn from them.

warnings which of course, fell on deaf and very stubborn ears.

"stop sneaking out then and i would not have to put things in place to keep you in." alexia spoke coldly, olga squeezing her hand trying to catch her eye and encourage her to take a different approach which went ignored.

"how did you even know about-" you scoffed in disbelief, shaking your head firmly and storming back to your room. "i know everything pequeña, including what is best for you!" alexia yelled after you, having never been able to let you do anything without poking her nose in or getting involved.

"stay out of my life!" you yelled back, bedroom door slamming with such force that a picture in the hallway could be heard falling off its hook and to the floor with a thump.

a string of angry catalan leaving her mouth alexia gently moved her girlfriend off and stood, ignoring her warnings to leave you be to cool off as her footsteps raced toward your room.

olga sighed as your door could be heard being flung open and the two of you started to argue, voices raising higher each minute as both you and alexia refused to relent or budge an inch, not able to see at all where the other one was coming from.

"you looked through my personal fucking messages?" you yelled as alexia finally got angry enough to let it slip what had prompted the lock in the first place. "no! you were stupid enough to leave your laptop open." alexia defended herself as you scoffed.

"so you thought you'd read them instead of just...being a normal human being and going about your day. you're crazy alexia!" you hauled a pillow at her which she caught with ease only further fueling your rage.

"you are my responsibility pequeña. you live with me! i know what is best for you and i did what i needed to do to keep you safe. you are eighteen what if someone had taken advantage of you walking around in the middle of the night huh? mierda!" alexia spat throwing her hands up in the air.

"i wasn't walking around in the middle of the night puta i was picked up and driven to my best friends house. my best friend who i never get to see anymore because if barça's training schedule isn't enough you are always on my back about doing more." you paused to take a breath, feeling a little light headed for a moment.

"extra laps, extra weights, extra media study, extra shooting practice, extra drills, if you had your way i would never leave the pitch alexia. i need a life outside of football too, please!" your anger quickly melted away as honesty leaked through, your voice straining and eyes pleading for her to see it from your point of view.

"just because you don't have a life, doesn't mean you get to ruin mine." you spoke quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed and rubbing your face tiredly with your hands, your sister missing all the signs that now would be a great time to wrap this up.

"football is your life, and if you don't see that then you don't belong at barça." your sisters words hurt more than you let on, face falling just for a moment before it hardened, olga now appearing realizing she should have stepped in sooner.

"get dressed, now. we have training!" alexia warned sternly, again ignoring the way her girlfriends eyes burned into the side of her head and she tugged on her shirt in warning.

"i'm not going." you spoke, eyes trained to the floor as alexia scoffed and stepped further into the room. "perdón?" she spoke, eyes drilling into you and cold tone warding you off of arguing, intimidation often her best tool of communication these days when she didn't know what else to do with you.

"mami is picking me up soon and taking me to the doctors, i have an appointment. jona already knows!" you rolled your eyes, still refusing to meet hers which bore down on you as you stood to your feet.

"why did you not tell me? what is the appointment for? i could have taken you." your sister rushed out, eyebrows furrowing as you snickered. "because my body is none of your business alexia, and you're my sister, not mami!" you grunted, pushing at her chest so she stumbled out of the room, the door quickly closing in her face.

scoffing at the gesture alexia's hand reached for the handle to push it open again, never allowing you the luxury of a lock bar the one now on your window, but fingers caught her wrist and tugged it away, olga staring up at her with a firm look and a raised eyebrow.

"sí, vale." alexia sighed, moving away from the door as her girlfriend followed after her to their own bedroom to continue the conversation.

"go, go go!" mapi chanted, raising from the lounge and clutching onto alexia who was sporting the same wide eyed stare as they watched the barcelona mens team play.

"bah! where was he offside huh? joder!" mapi threw her hands up with a roll of her eyes as the whistle blew and both girls dropped down into their seats with annoyed frowns.

alexia's head turned when she heard your key in the door, sure enough a few seconds later you were walking through, only alba was following you which caused her eyebrows to furrow.

"pequeña! we missed you at training." mapi greeted you with a cheer, opening her arms expectantly for a hug as you breezed right past and made a beeline for your bedroom. "what was that about?" the defender asked confused as alba joined the pair on the lounge.

"ask ale." the younger putellas chuckled with a shake of her head. "i thought mami was taking her to the doctor?" alexia ignored the previous remark and directed the question at her sister who shrugged.

"no? mami's been at work all day, i just picked her up and took her to get food." alba shrugged as alexia frowned. "from where? the doctor?" alexia sat up more as alba shook her head and her phone rang.

"no from the bus stop not too far from here. conned me into paying for her food of course, diablillo." alba rolled her eyes as mapi chuckled, the phone ringing again. "so mami didn't take her to the doctor then?" alexia clarified as alba gave her a look.

"no, why are you being so pushy?" the younger putellas questioned as alexia ignored her, the phone ringing again. "mierda! alba would you get that?" alexia snapped as it rang for the fourth time, her patience breaking.

"vale relax its not mine! its hers, took it cause she wouldn't stop taking ugly photos of me eating." alba scoffed, pushing her hips up and grabbing it out of her back pocket.

"that is hilarious." mapi chuckled as alba shoved her and clicked accept. "she's busy call back later!" your sister spoke the phone without looking, but her face clearly changed when whoever was on the other line spoke up.

"no lo siento i understand. i will have her call back soon as she can, gracias." alba spoke much more politely as the older girls beside her gave her a funny look. "amor." before alexia could question her on anything olga appeared, nodding for her to follow.

"two seconds cariño." alexia waved her off and turned back to alba as olga cleared her throat. "alexia, now." at the more serious tone the blonde was quick to her feet, ignoring her sister and best friends teasing jests after her.

"before we speak, you need to promise me you will stay calm amor." olga closed the bedroom door as alexia took a seat on the bed with a confused nod of agreement, stomach churning at the anxiety of what could be going on.

"you need to talk to your sister." olga sighed without giving much more context. "about this morning? cari i know she was upset but-" olga shook her head and cut her off.

"no, you need to talk to your sister." olga repeated as alexia's frown deepened. "i do not understand." the midfielder shook her head as olga stepped into their ensuite for a moment.

"what?" alexia questioned seeing her girlfriend had something hidden behind her back. the younger woman hesitated for a moment before slowly moving her hand, holding up something which made alexia's eyes widen.

"calm alexia, you promised me calm." olga warned as the blonde snatched it out of her hand, staring at the positive pregnancy test in disbelief. "why would i be upset? amor i did not even know you were speaking to doctors or-" as her girlfriends large hand settled on her stomach olga's eyes rolled.

"its not mine! idiota." olga smacked her on the head with a huff as alexia frowned. "then who would it-" suddenly everything clicked into place and the spanish captains blood ran cold.

"i found it in the bathroom."

"ale." olga warned seeing the instant switch in her facial features. "amor think about this and how to-" but her words fell on deaf ears as the bedroom door opened and alexia stalked back to the living room.

"maría, vaya." alexia ordered nodding to the door as the defender looked confused. "ale the game still has-" she gestured to the tv but was promptly shut down with a stern glare.

"vale, vale! i know where i am not wanted." mapi held her hands up in surrender and stood, grabbing her keys and quickly leaving the apartment to head to her own.

"we need to talk." both alba and alexia spoke in sync, frowning at one another. "you first." again they spoke at the same time rolling their eyes now, though as alexia held up the pregnancy test alba's jaw dropped.

"felicidades hermana!" the girl leapt up and tried to hug her sister who pushed her off. "it is not mine, and not olga's." at those words alba's eyes widened even further in shock.

"the call on her phone. it was a nurse with her test results, wouldn't say anything else but that she has to call back as soon as possible." alba explained, the two having a conversation entirely with their eyes before nodding and turning to head to your room.

"mi amor, go easy. if you push and yell she will just close off!" olga warned, hovering by the bedroom door respecting this was more a family matter as alba sent her a small smile, though she winced as alexia basically kicked your door open.

"hey! what i have to knock when i enter your room but you can't do that for mine?" you glared up at your sisters from your bed, spotting your phone in alba's hand. "oh i was looking for that." you sat up and held your hand out expectantly.

"alba!" you huffed when your sister didn't hand it to you, shifting a little uncomfortably as they both glared you down wordlessly. "what?" you questioned with a frown.

"what test did you have today?" alexia spoke first, voice seemingly calm as you rolled your eyes. "i told you, my body is none of your business." you repeated from earlier.

"well i know mami didn't take you, so you tell us or you can tell her." alexia threatened as you paused, looking them both over and finding no weakness you could pick at or exploit.

"i am eighteen i am an adult, i don't have to tell you or mami anything." you held firm as alba scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed beside you. "and is that what you think you are, sí? an adult?" alexia taunted as you glared up at her.

"good, good. because you will need to be to look after a baby!" alexia yelled suddenly causing you to flinch, pulling the positive pregnancy test out of her pocket and holding it up.

"thats not mine." you spoke quickly, trying to keep your face as still and as calm as possible. "oh no? well pequeña it is not mine, not olga's, is it alba's?" alexia's voice dripped with sarcasm making your eyes roll.

"you have friends over all the time." you scoffed, crossing your arms and shrugging. "sí, friends who do not sleep with men! idiota." alexia threw the pregnancy test as you as you ducked and it went sailing behind your bed.

"the doctor called, said they have your test results hermanita. time to stop lying!" alba warned sternly, moving to stand beside your eldest sister as both of them stared you down.

"okay, it is mine." you spoke with a shrug. "we said stop lying! we-" alexia started to lecture but stopped as alba tapped her shoulder and she registered your words.

"it is yours?" "sí."

"dios mío, we're going to be tia's! we can't be tia's first, you're supposed to have a baby first." alba moaned in shock, smacking alexia and siting down at your desk in shock.

"you are too young to be having sex joder! who is the father? you're a baby you can't have a baby!" alexia roared, vein in her forehead near to exploding as alba grabbed the back of her shirt stopping her from lunging at you like she wanted.

"alba, call mami. olga!" at her call the brunette appeared in the doorway, alexia asking her to go to the chemist and get a few more tests. but all three of them stopped their fussing and planning at the sound of your laughter.

"you think this is funny?" alexia's eye twitched as she took a step closer and you nodded, ignoring both alba and olga frantically gesturing for you to stop behind her, both girls recognising the eldest putellas was about one second from exploding.

"sí, very funny." you grinned tauntingly, alexia's mouth opening and closing like a fish as the tips of her ears turned red and you laughed again.

"i'm not pregnant, idiotas" you smiled, leaning back on your hands as all three girls frowned. "but you said-" alba gestured to the test on the floor and your stomach. "it is my test, but i'm not pregnant." you replied with a shrug.

"pequeña. you have five seconds to explain before i rip your arms from your body." alexia growled, fists clenched by her side as you chuckled. "i bought it online, its a fake test that always show positive." you explained as alba's jaw dropped.

"i bought it to scare you. so now i hope you learned your lesson about snooping around in my life, alexia." you spat with a roll of your eyes, alba quick to grab her sisters wrist as she stepped toward you again.

"what about the test? the doctor called." alba pushed with a frown. "mami found a weird spot on my back last week, made me an appointment to go get it tested to make it sure wasn't cancer or anything bad. call her! she will tell you." you replied honestly, pulling down the collar of your shirt and twisting to show the marks.

"you are not pregnant?" you fixed your shirt and shook your head with an infuriatingly smug smile that had your sisters seething. "prove it."

with a shrug you bent down and grabbed a pregnancy test from your side table, assuming this would have been the outcome. "muévete por favor." you shooed your sisters out of the way as olga stepped aside and you went to the bathroom.

olga again recognizing this for now was a family matter stepped out of the room as your sisters took a seat on the edge of the bed, both were silent still trying to process everything.

"see? negative." you returned around five minutes later, handing the test to alba as both her and alexia studied it with a frown. "i peed on that you know." you reminded as your sisters face scrunched in disgust and she promptly dropped it on alexia's lap.

"alba!" the older of the two smacked it away, both starting to bicker as they wiped their hands on one another making you chuckle, the noise alerting them back to the issue at hand.

"i hope this taught you both a valuable lesson about snooping." you rolled your eyes, hands on hips and staring them down in a stance scarily similar to eli's.

"you are not pregnant?" "no." "promise? on papi?" "yes, not pregnant."

"good, dios mio." alba exhaled shakily, catching alexia's eye as they seemed to again wordlessly have a conversation, your suspicions peaking as they stood and fixed their eyes back on you.

"you go left, i'll go right, she can't outrun us both. vamos!" your eyes widened and you nearly fell to the floor in your haste to get away, both your sisters launching at you.

"olga!"

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #alexia putellas

856 notes · View notes

cupidsdolll · 2 months

Text

pairings: boyfriend!harry x fem!reader [1.8k]

content warnings: cockwarming, small bit of fluff

“Don’t. Move.”

Harry’s voice is low enough to not be picked up by his computer microphone but loud enough for the girl before him to hear. She looks up at him from her spot on the floor, her knees aching from sitting in the same place for long periods of time. She’s unsure of just how long she’s been sitting on her knees, eyes watery and mouth full of his cock, but she thinks a good chunk of his meeting has gone by she’s been sitting down. He had told her before the meeting started that it was an important one and that she should be good and keep herself busy until he’s through. That was his only request, she needed to leave him alone.

She nodded then, sure of herself and her ability to stay away from him. She was wrong. It only took twenty minutes into the meeting that the heat started to bloom within her. It started off as a small little feeling in her chest and she frowned. She started to read to try to distract herself from it but then the book started to get a little steamy which only made the heat worse. The longer Harry stayed in that room on his call, the more antsy she became, the more the heat grew.

He’s been in there for at least an hour by now, talking and laughing on the other side of the door and Y/N can’t wait any longer. She walks quietly into his office and he shoots her a warning look, reminding her of what he said earlier. Be good. She shakes her head and sits on an empty chair near him. She’s hoping that the close proximity will calm the heat licking at the inside of the girl’s body. She just watches him, her eyes roaming over every part of him, his slender fingers free from his rings minus one. It’s a simple little ring that Y/N had bought for him when they were just friends, a plain gold ring with a couple of small gems in a circle that just somehow reminded her of him.

Time passed and the girl was bored and horny and just itching to tease him just a little. She scooted herself closer to Harry, just out of sight of his camera. If Harry saw, then he acted as if he didnt, completely ignoring her, nodding along to whatever the man on camera was saying. She lays one hand on his knee, a touch so innocent seeming and just lets it rest. She watches him out of the corner of her eye, her main gaze focused on the screen, watches as he flares his nostrils and exhales deeply. He cuts her a brief glance with a hard look, another warning. He’s normally a very patient man, hard to visibly upset. She knows that he enjoys her being the slightest disobedient on a regular day, but he doesn’t tolerate it as much when he’s in business mode. He doesn’t like being distracted and she’s his biggest and main one.

Slowly she begins to start trailing her hand upwards on his lap, the feel of the rough cotton against her palm rewarding her but doing very little to calm the fire burning inside her. One hand swats at hers, a lingering tingle on the back of her hand remains. She can hear his mouse click a couple times before he turns his head to look at her.

“What did I say, hm?” He asks and she just shrugs.

“You’ve been on this call forever. I miss you.” She says and he just chuckles, a dry sounding laugh that just says he doesn’t buy it.

“So you think you can just ignore what I told you? You can do whatever you want, hm?” He says and she watches a glint pass through his eyes, one that only happens whenever she’s being a brat and she clenches her legs as the fire burns stronger inside of her. She’s warm, a little warmer than she’d like to be in all honesty. She shrugs, all faux confidence and brattiness. She’s trying not to seem eager at all this attention she’s getting from him and trying to ignore the wetness pooling in her underwear.

It’s no use though and she knows this, he’s able to read her like the back of his hand. He knows she’s turned on and trying to seem big and confident, knows that she’s squeezing her legs as tight as she can. He simply smiles, a genuine one as he turns back to his computer. He’s able to pick right back where he left off, adding onto the conversation as if he wasn’t talking to her just a second ago. She watches in disbelief as he goes back to ignoring her, acting as if she was outside of the door instead of right next to him. She huffs in annoyance before her hand is resting back on his leg, sliding upwards faster before she reaches his covered dick that’s beginning to harden underneath her touch. He breathes through his nose as she smiles and starts rubbing him over his clothes. He clicks his mouse and turns to look at her, the look in his eyes is one that she loves to see.

“On your knees, in front of me. Hurry up.” He says and she just tilts her head at him, feigning innocence.

“Why? Aren’t you supposed to be focusing on your meeting? I’d hate to distract you.” She says and squeezes his dick once over his jeans. He closes his eyes and sighs, she’s really pushing his patience and the both of them know it.

“On. Your. Knees. Now. Don’t make me tell you again, pet.” He says as he turns back to his computer and unmutes himself, she stares at him a little longer and then decides to listen to him. She stands up and sinks to her knees, crawling so she’s in between his legs, looking up at him with a smirk. She thinks she’s in control, she’s gotten what she wants so there’s no way she’s losing anything right now.

She has him wrapped around her finger normally as does he, they’re both equally whipped for each other and there’s no denying it. She thinks she has him in the palm of her hand, has him right where she wants him, but it’s quite the opposite actually. Harry knew she could only stay away from him for so long. Knew that she could only take so much before she gets all antsy and needy for him, just like she is now. He offers a soft smile, full of love and warm, opposite of the fire burning in his emerald eyes. He’s full of lust and the thought of punishing her while he’s actively on a call makes the fire burn brighter, hotter.

She stares at him, one hand tracing random shapes into his pants as she waits for instruction. He hums, an agreeing noise.

“Go ahead and take me out then, baby.” He says after muting himself, not wanting to alert his other coworkers, it’s none of their business and he does have a professionalism to maintain after all. She smiles up at him with excitement in her eyes as she begins to trail her hands up his legs, over his knees and begins to pull his pants down slowly. He lifts himself off of his chair as subtly as he can, disguising it as getting himself more comfortable. After all, he has been sitting in that chair without a break for over an hour. She stares at his hard cock, standing straight up and a small bead of pre cum begins to dribble out. Her mouth waters instantly at the thought of sucking him off, it’s one of her favorite things. He smiles at her again, this time it’s more of a smirk if anything. He knows she’s eager for it, she always will be. He coos at her gently before nodding once, letting her know it’s okay to go ahead. She wastes no time, eagerly leaning forward and taking him into her mouth. He closes his eyes briefly before he opens them again and tries to pay attention to whatever’s being said from the other side of the screen. He does his best to ignore the feeling of her mouth on him as she bobs her head and sucks on him greedily, her tongue gently circling around him whenever she reaches closer to the tip. Before she’s able to get too into it, Harry has to remember that this is supposed to be a punishment. She’s not supposed to be enjoying herself so he calmly takes one of his hands and tangles his fingers into the back of her head gently tugging on her roots.

“Don’t move now, just keep me warm.” He says softly, doesn’t want to keep having to mute himself in order to protect their ears and just chooses to talk quietly in hopes that his mic won’t pick up his words. She whines and shakes her head slightly, showing her displeasure but he doesn’t care. She brought this on herself. He sits hot and heavy on her tongue, the taste of his pre-comeum is salty and intoxicating. She’s always loved the way he tastes, and can never get enough of it.

She hates when he has her do this, hates just being still even though her mouth waters heavily, desire swirls in her stomach and courses through her body. She huffs at him to show her annoyance, trying to show her attitude even with her mouth closed. He simply chuckles at the girl and her efforts, amused at her antics. He pays attention to the screen, his boss droning on about numbers and marketing techniques that could help business. He finds that she listens to him, aside from a couple of tongue swirls around his sensitive tip and a few swallows whenever too much spit pools in her mouth. He smiles to himself as the meeting continues.

He’s not sure how much time passes, these meetings always end up being several hours long simply because no one can agree on one thing. He checks the time on his computer to see that thirty minutes passed, and he feels content. She’s been good, being as still as she can with just a few teasing licks and sucks. He smiles as he mentally decides to reward her, ettling deeper into his chair and subtly thrusting himself into her mouth and she immediately moans, her eyes fluttering close and the vibrations flow through him and makes him curl his toes. He clears his throat in an attempt to hold back the throat making his way up his throat.

He’s being mean, he knows he is. He can’t help it though, as he thrusts softly into her mouth again and she eagerly hollows her cheeks as she sucks him in deeper. He quickly mutters something to his team, some pathetic excuse of needing to get something as he mutes himself and turns off the camera. He begins thrusting slowly into her mouth and a rumble comes from deep in his chest as he watches her.

“There you go, baby. You did so good, I think you deserve a reward.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one direction #harrystyles #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shots #harry smut #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #my writing

546 notes · View notes

eveningepiphany · 9 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: you take a beautiful sign to the final show and have the sweetest interaction with harry. then somehow bump into him in italy 2 days later.

warnings: nothing but fluff, and a few little mentions of how he saved your life!

a/n: i am so fucking proud of h. i want to give him a hug more than anything. this is for all my lovelies who love hslot so fckn much it makes them ill.

also this is such an unrealistic oneshot but like that’s just the way for it ig

———

There’s a certain type of atmosphere that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s one that no matter how many photos or videos you take, you can’t capture it. One that no word has enough emotional range behind it to convey the feeling it opens up in you.

That is the only way to get close to even describe standing where you are.

You can’t lie, you had waited hours upon hours in the Italian sun just to feel the warm metal of the barricade underneath your palms.

You’d waited years just to get here in general.

When you turn your head to look behind you, you see tens of thousands of people there. Going from visible, overwhelmingly happy faces to a sea of tiny dots.

But you’re here. At the front.

You smile because you made it. This has, albeit dramatic, been a home to you over the past 2 years.

A creature comfort. One you followed every step of the way. And somehow you can’t believe you made it here, and neither would the girl back 18 months ago watching a pixelated Instagram livestream.

Standing in your outift, which took more rhinestones and glitter than you could ever have kept track of.

But you shined under the sun like a mirrorball, so it all felt worth it. Even though you swear there’s still glue stuck under your nails.

Your friends around you shared water, staying hydrated as the show starting neared. Wetleg had already preformed their final set. And tears had been randomly springing on you all day.

You heard the power in the crowd as they sung the prelude songs, goosebumps dotting over your body as you realise he’s probably able to hear it now.

Soon enough he’ll be looking at it. In all of its 100,000 people glory.

“You okay lovely?” Sofia, an Italian girl you’d met in the line checked in on you.

You nodded with a heartfelt smile. The whole experience was so bittersweet. Full of lasts.

“I’m okay. Just so so proud.” You nodded and she softly chuckles.

Her outfit was an electric blue that contrasted her tan skin, “I have some granola bars in my bag if you’re hungry? You should eat, we’ve been standing in the heat all day.”

Your best friend from your other side peered over, drawn back into conversation after being lost in the magic of the crowd surrounding her.

“On cry number— let me guess— 24 of the day?” She said it teasingly.

“Saying that as if you don’t already have mascara stains half down your face.” You grumble back jokingly, leaning your head back to look at the pastel blue sky.

You turned back to Sofia, “We’ll save them for after, maybe lay down on the ground and eat them or something.”

You only said no because you felt like you could probably be sick right now.

“Amore sciocco, troppo testardo il tuo bene, mio dio.” She mutters under her breath with a laugh, shaking her head at you disapprovingly.

“Trash talking her again in Spanish. God I wish I knew how to speak it.” You elbow your best friend at her quip.

You could stay in this moment forever.

As Bohemian Rhapsody begins playing you watch the sun go down, and in this very moment, It is your forever.

You live and breathe every second of it. All the way into peace piece, and as you’re gripping the girls around you for dear life as the lights start to dim along with the setting sun.

Harry coming has the arena screaming so loud it would have been heard for miles. He looks beautiful.

Like a shiny star up on stage. Blowing kisses and sending thank you’s to as many areas of the crowd be possibly could.

Mouthing words in Italian, causing Sofia to almost pass out beside you she screeched that hard the first time he did it.

And him counting in Golden with their language, speaking proudly into the mic— “Uno, due— uno, due, tres!”

“HES— WHAT THE FUCK!!” You’re laughing, holding her hand as she shouts frantically.

Songs bleed into one after another, going on your part from embarrassing screaming and dancing onto equally embarrassing crying.

The overwhelming feeling of seeing him so close— so damn close you can see each individual sequin on his silver outfit when his on the main stage at his mic stand in the centre.

You don’t even realise he’s doing a sign reading interlude until Sofia hands you yours from where it leant on the bottom of the barricade at your feet.

You were enamoured by him.

Taking the sign, your hands shook a little as he was on the main stage. Right in front of you.

His eyes are scanning the crowd, glancing over some signs and smiling.

“We have a choice tonight,” he begins, voice echoing through the speakers.

“we can either move quickly through signs, in which case, we’ll be able to give you some more songs!” An array of screams come from everyone, and you feel sick just at the prospect he was suggesting. The fact he could pull out any song.

He chuckles, walking further towards the area of the pit where you are, “Just an idea, just an idea!”

You’re pretty sure the girls are yelling something about him walking over, but you’re stunned at what’s happening overall, and you can’t even process what they’re saying.

But contradictory to what he’d just said. He stops a moment.

From his perspective, he saw a handful of very bright colours in the front of the crowd. One holding up an equally eye catching sign.

But he takes a moment to blink, focus in on the person holding it.

This girl has her eyes locked dead onto him, like as if he moves an inch— something could implode at any moment. Yet it somehow comes across in a flattering way.

And then he reads the sign.

‘you saved me. i cant thank you enough for that. BTW…’

His heart immediately pangs. Already too emotional at this whole event to be reading a sign like that.

You are in shock. Because he certainly just made eye contact with you and he’s been staring at your sign for a few good seconds.

“Can— wait can you turn that for me, love?” His voice falters a little.

As if Harry Styles just asked you to do something, you move with a haste you never had.

However you misinterpreted his question, turning the sign clockwise like as if it was upside down. Feeling a little embarrassed in yourself that it was around the wrong way.

He chuckles into the mic, causing a small uproar at the softness of it.

“Wrong way, it has B-T-W on it so I’m assuming there’s more on the back.”

“Oh, god— sorry!” You shout out to him, it sounding a little shaky, and you can’t lie that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

You had waited so fucking long to have a chance to tell him that he genuinely saved your life. And you’re finally doing it.

Also spinning the sign so the back of it is facing him, and his eyes flit gently over it too.

‘you have by far the prettiest smile ever.’ It reads, with a few large red hearts around it, decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

A dimple pops out on his cheek and he covers his mouth with a hand, flattered as ever.

“Why thank you.” He does a little bow as well, and you’re laughing out of shock. You’re interacting with him right now.

He straightens up, “I’m flattered as ever.” Prodding one of his dimples as he shows off just how pretty his smile is.

“And thank you for coming, it means everything to me.” He flushes a little, laughing at himself and your still starstruck reaction.

“You are stronger than you probably think. What’s your name?”

A tear breaks past your waterline, and you call out, “Y/N!”

Both girls at your side are clutching you like no tomorrow, and Harry takes his in-ear out to hear you better.

You call it out again, he makes only one off guess before he gets it. And your name rolling off his accent tongue makes your stomach flip.

“Y/N? That’s right— well that was a pretty good record for name guessing—“ he laughs, walking over as close as he can to the edge of the stage.

He holds the mic up to his mouth, “make some noise for Y/N everyone!”

You are in complete shock as you hear the whole arena cheer and holler for you, and Harry has this wholesome feeling of adoration wash over him as he sees your reaction.

The tears slipping down your pink cheeks. If he could, he honestly would go down there and wipe them off.

Not something he often find himself thinking. Yet here he is.

“Thank you for coming Y/N. What do you say we do some more songs?” He asks, smiling at the shocked raise of your brows.

“Yes, please.” You enthusiastically reply.

“Alright, you heard her. More songs it is!”

And so the show continues on. The second he breaks eye contact and moves away, a sob tears out of you.

You can’t believe that just happened. And the fact the rest of the show— unless you’re delusional, and making this up in your head— he lingers anytime he’s going past where you are. Catching your eyes, and smiling a little wider.

And you’re absolutely a wreck at the speech he makes, even though Sofia has to translate every word that leaves his mouth.

But if that nearly killed you, the piano ballad was honestly your final straw.

You cried so hard you couldn’t see the fucking stage at one point. And you wish you could say you were embarrassed for him to see you as he did one last round of goodbyes. But you couldn’t.

It was all your love and appreciation for him, poured out of you through the tears streaming down your face.

To your disbelief, he stops in front of you again, blowing a kiss to your friends and then one to you.

Bending down a little further to look at you, lips starting to move— from what your could hardly hear, and mostly got from reading his lips, he said ‘thank you, I love you.”

You blow a kiss back.

And before you know it, the show has ended. And there’s this full, yet hollow feeling inside of you.

Like you’re not sure how to feel. You miss him already, but that was by far the most amazing experience of your life.

You’re overwhelmed, with love and gratitude. And you, Sofia and your best friend end up doing what you’d proposed earlier before the show.

Eating chocolate granola bars with your back up against the barricade, tears still falling from your eyes.

———

Post love on tour depression is a real thing.

There is no normal explanation for having to force yourself to get up to have an amazing brunch in Italy of all places.

But 2 days after the show day, you’re doing just that. Dressing in a nice summer outfit at the very least, and taking your LOT bag with you.

The streets aren’t too busy considering it’s midday, and you make your way through them peacefully. Stoping to peak into stores, or take photos of little things you like every now and again.

And all your adventuring leads you to a beautiful little corner-cafe. One that the second you step foot into, you are comforted by its cozy feel & strong aroma of coffee.

The building itself had all its historic bones, but had been modernised. Fitted with sleek wooden floors and new furniture. Walls painted a crisp white to brighten up the already light filled room.

You find the menu hanging above where the counter is, on large pretty chalkboards.

You’re mulling over what to get when you hear a voice from beside you.

It causes you to jump a little at it’s unexpectedness, “I like your bag.”

It’s said with the tone that you can tell someone is smiling. And you turn to greet the person who had just spoken to you.

That’s when you’re met with a sight that knocks the wind from you.

Beside you— standing tall, with his tousled brown curls and rolled up linen long-sleeve is quite literally the man you saw on stage 2 nights ago.

“Oh my god—“ you jump a little at the realisation, it hitting you like a train within seconds. But you’re trying to keep you voice down, as to not cause some kind of scene.

He laughs at your stunned reaction, the way your ringed hand goes over your mouth. It’s a reaction he’s accustomed to. But the way your pretty features portray the expression has him all the more intrigued.

He does his classic introduction, “Hi, love. I’m harry.” Sticking his hand out, smiling. Like as if you didn’t know.

“I— well I did notice that.” You rush out in a nervous laugh. Glancing around looking for some kind of film camera, gauging if this is a set up and not a coincidence.

You’re left realising it’s just the two of you, and some older guy with a newspaper a few metres away at a window seat.

But no one with a camera or phone out filming this interaction.

You shake his hand after a moment of hesitation, telling yourself mentally you’re not going to cry as your relish the feeling of his calloused fingertips against the base of your wrist.

“Hi…” You flush profusely.

“What are you ordering?” He smiles at you, and your eyes are so obviously darting over his every feature.

Which you feel like you couldn’t stop from happening when he’s this close, and you’re able to fully see the plains of his beautiful face.

The structure of his jawline— that’s dotted with a light stubble—his cupids bow lips, the definition in his cheekbones. And fuck his eyes.

That are very intensely locked onto yours…

“Oh. I’m sorry. I…” you fumble for words a little, “probably like a tea. That’s usually my go to.”

He nods, “let me get it for you, please. How do you have it?”

“No, no. It’s okay, you don’t need to do that.” You insist immediately, because even though the gestures small, it feels like too much.

“Y/N.” He tuts gently.

“Weird that you remember that.” You think aloud, unable to filter the shock at the fact he just said your name. Even though the show was only 2 days ago, when he learnt it.

“Of course I do. You had quite the sign. I won’t lie, it made me tear up a bit.” He laughs, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Well, It was true. Not to be cheesy or anything, but your music genuinely means everything to me.” You say carefully. Not wanting to come across as weird.

“And love on tour was one of the best experiences of my life. So… thank you for that.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at your shyness. And you recall the fact you told him he had a pretty smile.

Prettiest smile. The fact he knows you think that?

You wonder if he’s thought the same thing at all in the last 5 minutes.

“Your support means as much to me. Wouldn’t be able t’do what I do if it weren’t for people like you.”

“Now, how you have your tea?” He reiterates, asking for an answer, not for another polite declination.

“I— okay. Since it’s clear you’re not going to take no for an answer.” You sigh. Corners of your mouth upturning anyway at his stubborn ways.

You rattle off how you have it, and he nods, mentally noting it down like this is going to be a regular occurrence.

He walks over to the counter and you shuffle over to the side that you’ll pick up the order from. Watching carefully as he goes up, you take in his much more causal appearance to the usual extravagance of the outfits he adorns on stage.

Hes got a pair of denim shorts on—strong legs on display— paired with a white longsleeve that’s rolled up his fore arms.

You avert your gaze to the older Italian man at the register, clueless to who he is serving.

Until a younger girl, say 15, walks from the back room and does the biggest double take youve ever witnessed.

Harry has to be used to it, because there was no way anyone could miss that.

You’re feeling like you’re in a parallel universe. Because Harry is just casually strolling back over to you, like you’ve known each other for more than a total of two, 5 minute interactions.

You take a breath, reminding yourself simply that he is a human. Just like you are. He wakes up in the morning, has bad days and good days, has habits and routines he follows— just like anyone else.

You keep this in consideration as you open your mouth to speak, “Thank you for doing that. How have you been?”

He smiles at your shy tone, a tiny wholesome feeling bubbling up at your question.

“I’m good, honestly. It’s been a big start to the year. I’m excited to take some time off even though wrapping it up the other night was really hard.” He nods, eyes casually trailing the man who was making the drinks.

“If it makes any difference, I was sobbing like a baby at pretty much every point of the show.” You laughed.

“I did see your very tear stained cheeks.” He shocks himself little with his continuation,

“Would’ve jumped down and given you a hug if I had the bloody time.” And he smiles with gratification as you mask your shocked reaction as much as possible. However, tiny little micro-movements in your face were still popping through. “I went a little overtime with the speech.”

Just human to human. You drew a tiny breath through your nose, “Which was great by the way. I mean my friend had to translate the whole thing, but was also another tear jerker.”

He goes to say something else, interrupted by the call of his name from the counter.

In which he collects the drinks from the lovely man, smiling at him with a warm thank you before turning to come back to you.

“Here you go, darling.” He hands over yours, and his green eyes look bright as ever.

The darling makes your stomach flip. He’s British, they use pet names like this in passing conversation often. But fuck if you didn’t know any better you’d think there was a chance he was flirting with you.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.” You repeat.

“You have a different accent, you’re not from Italy no?” He interjects and you’re a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“No I’m not from here…?” you laugh.

“So you’ve travelled all this way to come see me I’m assuming, the least I can do is buy you a tea. Think of it as a thank you.”

He tests the waters a little further, “i don’t usually stay in cafes for overly long but, if you have time to sit for a bit…”

“You continue to amaze me.” You chuckle, slowly following behind him as he pulls up a chair, back to the window.

“You also made me a very flattering sign. So im just being courteous, as a way to return the favour.” He smirks almost. And you’re honestly not strong enough to endure this.

“And that little piano thing you did? Is this compensation for my mental health?” You hold the cup up and he lets out a surprised laugh at your gentle quip.

“Yes, I’ve heard word that it came across as emotional as I’d intended.”

“You could hear a pin drop in the whole arena.” You nodded, taking a sip of the tea he’d bought you.

“I was so worried I was gonna fuck it up somehow.” He shakes his head, hand running through his hair as though he was anxious just at the thought.

“It sounded amazing, Harry. Made me feel a lot how fine line did when I first listened to it.”

He looks sincere with gratitude as you talk. And it stays that way as he continues on conversation with you.

You know heaps about him— you’re a fangirl that’s practically your job— yet he doesn’t know anything about you. Leaving him curious about many aspects of your life, and also with plenty of questions. Ones he really can’t believe he is even asking given you’re a fan, and he’s never actually done this before.

Whatever this is, because it felt a lot like a first date. With the way he asked where you were from, who you came to Italy with, where you grew up.

The whole lot. Your drinks both long since finished, but the questions still flowing between you two. Like there was never enough information to be learned.

He was interrupted by a call, and it almost popped this little bubble you’d made around yourselves.

Which possibly wasn’t a bad thing for him. But it served as a reality check for you.

You’re still just a fan at the end of the day. Even though your not sure how that term stands after he knows about your favourite foods, or childhood stories from your younger years. Because you feel like now that he knows that, the dynamic feels different to you.

But most of all you dreaded the fact you had to say goodbye again. But now you have to say it knowing that he walks away from this knowing things personal to you.

You realise he’s on the phone to his mum as he talks, “Yea, tell Gem to grab them anyway… I’ll be back soonish.”

He glances up at your after a moment of brief silence, “I’m just out with a friend of mine I… bumped into. So I’ll see you soon, okay?”

A friend of his?

“Alright, bye, I love you.”

And just like that the phone hung up.

“I’m feeling very special at my label. A friend of yours.” You laugh, but not lying whatsoever.

“Was m’mum. We’re having a late lunch at her BNB.” He explained, and the fact he didn’t object his choice of wording meant even more to you than anything.

You stare at him a moment, both mutually realising that this moment was seemingly going to have to end at some point.

“I don’t often do things like this.” He shrugs, watching your eyes train on random objects around the room as you get lost in thought.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Never sat down with a fan and just had a drink. It was lovely, thank you for being so polite.” He smiles again at you.

It surprised him just how far he went with it. But you had this gentle aura about you. He knew of all people, you were safe to share this private slice of himself with.

“Thank you for buying my drink… to have spent this time talking, it— well it meant a lot to me.”

“I would give you my number if my manager wouldn’t kill me.”

As stated, he continues to surprise himself just how far he’s going.

Your brain stalls at his comment.

“You could just have mine? Buy a burner phone and text me off it.” You make the first suggestion that comes to mind and he barks out a laugh.

“Could just reaffirm that you weren’t going to sell my number off to fans on Twitter?”

“Ah, that could also work too.” You nod, raising your brows.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, and your heart genuinely palpitates. Because how the fuck had you managed this.

“Gimmie yours, if you’d like?” He slides it over, and you feel like you’re picking up something with more value than just a phone. I mean it’s Harry Styles’ phone of all things.

You begin to type it in, glancing up as his gaze is trained on you, “how many numbers of fans do you have banked up in here?”

He rolls his eyes at your tease, still smiling, “I’ll have you know you’ll be the first. If my mums counts though, then only two.”

“I just…” he pauses, pursing his lips as he looks for the right words, “knew I’d regret it if I didn’t have a way to get in touch with you. I’d say we’ve got a lot in common and it’s always nice to meet new people. And I don’t want to be thinking later ‘wow, she was lovely, wish I could have kept in touch’. Y’know?”

You send yourself a text, just a simple ‘:)’ so it saves in his recent messages. “Well, I suppose I’d be a little sad too. Probably start sending emails to your manager trying to find a way to get in touch again.”

He laughs at this, standing up from his chair and pocketing his phone in his shorts once you hand it back to him.

You also rise from the table, watching his movements keenly.

“Makes this part less sad.” He says, in reference to the impending goodbye, “I’m not leaving Italy for a little bit though, and if you’re sticking around as well, maybe I can buy your more cups of tea— to make you feel even more guilty about it, of course.”

You let out a soft chuckle, “Yea, I’m not leaving for a little while…”

He walks to your side of the table, not hesitating to pull you into a hug that leaves you winded.

You freeze a millisecond before jumping to embrace it. Enjoying the gentle yet strong feeling of his body holding yours. And the way his hands are ever-so-slightly caressing your lower back.

“Thanks for hanging out, alright? Don’t be shy to message me.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I— okay. I won’t. Thank you, Harry.” You smile into the crook of his neck.

He gives a final squeeze before pulling back. Fighting the internal urge to press a little kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you around, hopefully. Bye Y/N.” He gives you a final smile before waving goodbye, and heading out the cafe.

Your head is reeling as he exits. Unsure if you just imagined that whole thing. You needed someone to pinch you, because as far as your concerned that whole interaction was something you dreamed up.

You check your phone to see the time.

1:53pm

1 new notification

Unknown Number | :)

So that actually did just happen.

———

To reaffirm that you weren’t the only person in the world to witness what happened today, you see a tweet reposted on an update account that reads,

so, i just saw harry styles in the cafe i work at, and he sat down and drank a tea with someone he talked to at a show. not naming the interaction for privacy but like… what the fuck?

And secretly you smile. Maybe this is something you’ll keep to yourself for a bit. Like he’s a new secret friend of yours.

———

part two!!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles smut #famous harry #fan! y/n #fangirl! y/n #italyrry #he’s so cute

1K notes · View notes

pearlcigs · 5 months

Text

⋆ french girl

“have you ever seen titanic?” you asked, toying with the hem of ellie’s shirt. “yeah, why?” ellie’s eyes were closed, hand under her head, serving as a makeshift pillow even though she was laying on two already. “y’know that one scene? where jack draws rose.” you voice, inching your body closer to her. “the one where rose gets naked and asks jack to draw her like one of his french girls? yeah i’m familiar.” ellie chuckles, unsure of where you could be going with this. “watched that scene more times than i care to admit.” she continued, eyes opening to look down at you, your head laying on her chest. “draw me like one of your french girls, ellie.”

the off white colored sheets were now wrinkled under your nude body. the flesh of your skin plush against the cool fabric that was quickly warming up due to your body heat. nerves coursed through each one of your blood vessels, taking deep breaths and rubbing your thighs together. you hadn’t expected your fantasy to get this far. posed like a doll, afraid to move and ruin the whole image, though ellie wasn't too concerned. she had your body in this position memorized, each perfect imperfection on your body engraved in her mind. she didn't think she could forget, even if she tried.

the sharp sound of her pencil scratching the paper put you somewhat at ease. the melodic sound making you eager to see what your girlfriend's artistic abilities would bring this time. your chest heaving with each breath, though it felt like you couldn't get enough air. "you're doin' great, babe." ellie praised, tongue poking out her mouth just slightly as a form of concentration. her pencil drew every one of your curves. verbatim on the paper to what she was looking at with her own eyes.

“why don’t you spread your legs a lil’?” she asked, it was innocent, truthfully. she wanted to make sure this drawing was perfect, from each stroke down to the pose. your face heated up, bottom lip slotting between your teeth at her vulgar yet seemingly sweet request. “els,” you giggle, gently trying to inform her of what her words meant to you. ellie looked up at you upon hearing the serenade of your voice calling for her. “hm?” the scratching of the pencil slowing to a stop.

just looking at you and how flustered you suddenly looked, she realized just what she said. a light pink pigment blushing over her freckled cheeks. “i mean, ‘course only if you want to.” she tries to correct her mistake, though she’s not entirely sure if it was a mistake to correct— or even a mistake at all. “like this?” you mumble with bated breath, spreading your plush thighs apart just enough to let ellie see the start of your glistening cunt. she stares intently for a minute, trying to hold herself back from dropping her art supplies and crawling onto the bed to pleasure you the way you deserve.

“you look even prettier than rose.” she comments, offhandedly, as she returns her attention to the almost finished sketch. “can i see, els?” your voice is sweet, but full of eagerness. “you gotta wait till it’s done, babe. be patient.” she smiles with a cocky grin, liking the fact that even for just right now she’s the only one who’s ever seen this drawing. it prided her in more ways that one for reasons she couldn’t explain. “but ‘m not patient.” you complained, voice a borderline whine. “oh, trust me. i am well aware of that.” she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i’m almost done, alright? just hang on, baby.”

the few minutes it took her to finish the drawing of you that you were excited to see felt like hours. your body felt stiff, like you were turning into a statue to be a piece of art forever. ellie smudges a few of the harsh lines with her finger before putting her pencil down for the final time. she savors the feeling. of what? she’s not sure. “ready?” she asks, looking up at you and you’re already sitting up, enabling her to see more of your perfect body. she walks over to the bed, sitting next to you and somehow fighting back every erotic thought she had about you flipping the paper to finally show you.

you take in every sharp line that the pencil, that ellie claims is her lucky pencil, made. you looked at it so intensely that ellie thought maybe you didn’t like it, until you smiled. “you’re so talented, ellie.” you complimented, heart fluttering with adoration. ellie took the praise with a grain of salt, blush painting her bashful face. “couldn’t’ve made something this beautiful without the perfect muse.” she deflects, goofy grin on her face. ogling shamelessly at you body. she places the finished art piece on your night stand, hands caressing you body with a soft kiss to your lips. “come ‘ere, ‘french girl’.”

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader

626 notes · View notes

lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 10 months

Text

Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window

"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly

Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff

AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.

Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).

The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.

Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.

After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.

When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.

“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.

You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.

“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.

“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.

It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.

“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.

You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.

Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.

John Marston:

You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.

John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.

When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.

Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.

Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.

It was like love at first sight.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.

“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”

John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”

Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.

John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.

He may have been getting ahead of himself.

Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.

He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).

He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.

It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.

Then he met you.

You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.

It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.

Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.

You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.

He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.

The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.

Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.

Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.

You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.

You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.

“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”

You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.

“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.

You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.

“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.

That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.

On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.

He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.

Javier Escuella:

You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.

Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.

“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”

The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.

Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.

You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.

Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.

From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.

Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.

Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.

You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.

You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.

“Mi amor?”

You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.

At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave - he did not expect you to usher him inside.

You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.

You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.

It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.

He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.

Charles Smith:

Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.

You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.

When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.

As you grew older, your feelings grew too.

You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.

Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.

Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.

Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.

It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.

Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.

It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.

You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.

One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.

You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.

That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.

You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.

“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.

He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.

“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”

It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.

Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.

You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.

“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”

You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.

Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)

Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.

Sean MacGuire:

The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.

Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.

Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.

He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.

Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.

He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.

His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.

“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.

He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.

“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.

You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.

Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.

After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.

Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.

He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.

“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”

Sean was in love immediately.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.

The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.

Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.

She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.

She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.

She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.

You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.

You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.

She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.

Then, it grew to be a little more.

Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.

She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.

After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.

Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.

Friend by day, girlfriend by night.

Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.

She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)

Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.

The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.

<><><><>

1K notes · View notes